Dugald Kerr laughed aloud.
“She is very forward,” Janet Munro ventured.
“A headstrong lady, I can see,” Lord Tweed said with understatement.
“She is known as Mad Maggie,” Fin murmured, “and is rather proud of it.”
“God’s foot!” Janet exclaimed. “And ye put up with it?”
Fingal Stewart smiled knowingly. “She is worth it, Jan. I should have never imagined such a wife as I now have.”
“He loves her,” the laird murmured softly.
“I have not said it, Dugald,” Fin quickly replied.
“But ye do nonetheless,” the old man answered, “and I’m glad for it. I shall go to my grave content knowing Maggie is safe with ye.”
“Yer an old fraud,” Fin said. “Ye won’t go to yer grave for years, Dugald Kerr, and we both know it. Ye may fool Maggie, but ye don’t fool me.”
The laird chuckled, giving his grandson-in-law a broad wink. “Ye’ll not tell on me, I hope,” he said.
Janet Munro smiled at the repartee between the two men. When she had suggested her cousin to the king’s service, she could not have imagined the happiness he would have, but she could see it in his face. She saw it when he teasingly reprimanded his wife and saw it in the warm relationship Fingal Stewart had developed with the laird of Brae Aisir in just under a year. Her cousin had a family now, which was something he had not had in many years. All that was missing were bairns. “Is yer wife with child yet?” she boldly asked Fin.
“Not yet,” he said, “but neither of us will disappoint Dugald. She is young yet. Will ye give yer lord bairns, Cousin?”
“Aye,” Janet replied. “Margaret is three months old now. In another month or two we shall work harder to give her a brother, for it would please my lord, would it not?”
Matthew Baird nodded. “It would please yer lord very much, Jan,” he said.
Fingal Stewart smiled. His cousin had found happiness as well, and he was glad of it. He looked forward to the time they would spend together. The rest of the day and the evening were pleasant. The following day Maggie and Fin took their guests on a ride through a portion of the Aisir nam Breug. Lord Tweed was impressed by the traverse and how it was protected. His wife, however, was enchanted by the multicolored summer flowers that lined the way—yellow and white ox-eyed daisies, common milkwort, Mary’s gold, bluebells, and heather.
The following day they departed for Edinburgh, escorted by Iver and a company of a dozen men-at-arms. Fin had sent ahead to Master Boyle, saying that he would expect his house vacated for his arrival and that of his wife and their guests. Two hours before their arrival in the city, and on their second day of travel, Archie and Grizel rode ahead to make certain all was ready. They found Master Boyle eagerly awaiting them.
“I’ve had the house cleaned, the beds made, and the fires started,” he told Archie. “How long do ye think yer master will be here?”
“Two or three days, but no more,” Archie answered. “What’s yer hurry?”
“I’ve got two bishops arriving next week, and ye know these churchmen pay well for their lodging. Especially for such a fine house so near the castle.”
“We’ll be long gone,” Archie said. “Lord Stewart wanted to pay his respects to his cousin, the king. We have been told the young queen is failing fast.”
“Aye, aye,” Master Boyle replied mournfully. “ ’Tis a great tragedy. Why he picked such a weak little lass is a mystery.”
“She brought a large dower with her for the king, and ’tis rumored he loves her,” Archie responded. “Even the mighty fall in love with their wives now and again.”
“Then ’tis an even greater tragedy. They say some of the lords are already seeking a suitable second wife for him,” Master Boyle confided. “Some are pressing for another Frenchwoman, but others say he would do best with a good Scotswoman. Look how many bairns he’s fathered on his own. Six fine sons and two daughters—and all healthy. ’Tis hoped they at least allow the king to mourn before they’re putting him to bed with another wife by his side.” His curious gaze went to Grizel. “Have ye taken a wife then, Archie? I didn’t think ye ever would, but she’s a fine-looking woman.”
“His wife?” Grizel said, outraged. “As if I would wed with a bandied-legged old fellow! Indeed! I will have ye know that I am my lady’s tiring woman, ye nosy little man. Now, if there is nothing more of import ye need to tell us, get ye gone back to from wherever ye have come. Go on with ye! Shoo! Shoo!”
At first surprised, Master Boyle recovered quickly. With a wink at and a sketchy bow to Grizel, he went off chortling, but not before telling Archie, “Now, there’s a fine redheaded woman who could well warm a man’s bed on a cold night if he were smart enough, and quick enough, to catch her.”
Archie laughed aloud.
“Yer neither smart enough nor quick enough,” Grizel said darkly. She bustled off to make certain all was truly ready for their master and mistress but not before instructing Archie to go to the cookshop, and the baker. “Is there wine in this house? And see if ye can find some cheese. We must set out some sort of meal, for my lady will be tired and hungry when they arrive.”
The travelers arrived in the late afternoon. Janet Munro sent up to the castle to ask if her cousin, the guardsman, would join them later. When he came, they were able to offer him a joint of mutton, bread, cheese, and wine. He ate and drank the meal gratefully, and when he had finished, he looked at Janet, saying, “Ye wish to enter the castle? When?”
“Tomorrow,” Janet said. “We will all come to pay our respects to King James at this trying and terrible time for him.”
