The king came into the Borders that autumn to hunt. He left the queen behind at Linlithgow with his mother. The queen was pregnant with a second child; her first, a son named after his father, had been born in the early part of the year, just before the queen’s coronation. The king’s mother and wife had become good friends, and Marie de Guise had helped reconcile Margaret Tudor with her son.
Maggie was excited that the king would spend a night at Brae Aisir. Fin was less so. Brae Aisir wasn’t the kind of house set up for entertaining a king. It also worried him that the king had no idea that the house was more keep than manor. He hoped this fact would not anger James. Dwellings such as the Kerrs’ home usually required royal permission to be built. But Dugald had told him Brae Aisir had begun as a tower house and had just grown from there.
Fortunately, the house had no style, and the chambers were in general small. Fin hoped that the king would not be impressed once he saw this even if the outside of the house set on its hill was impressive. He himself chose a chamber for the king. It had no hearth and only a small wooden-shuttered window. There was barely room to turn around in it, but Fin cleverly saw his servants furnished the space with their best. The bed was hung with homespun linen and red velvet brocade. The springs on the bed had been tightened, and a new mattress and feather bed were laid upon it. There was a fine down coverlet, and pillows, the cases of which were scented with lavender. The taperstick by the bed was silver, and the narrow candle in it beeswax. There was a long narrow table against a wall upon which a tray with a decanter of whiskey and a goblet was placed. The king would be comfortable but hardly envious.
James arrived in midmorning. He came with only one companion, his servant. He was a man who enjoyed going about the land incognito as thegudeman o’ Ballengeich.His red hair usually gave his identity away, but there were plenty of lasses willing to pretend they were in ignorance of his true identity. Today, however, he was himself, and he was ready to hunt grouse, which was now in season. He met the laird and charmed the old man. Then Fin took him hunting with a party of Kerr clansmen.
“Did ye not want to go?” Dugald Kerr asked his granddaughter.
“I did, but Fin asked that I remain home. The king has not lost his wandering eye or taste for unfamiliar flesh just because he has a queen he likes. Ye know how I am when I hunt, Grandsire. I ride like a devil, and I am very enthusiastic in the pursuit. Fin feared that such behavior would entice the king. Ye can’t say no to a king.”
Dugald Kerr nodded. “Nay, ye can’t,” he agreed.
“I shall show the king a mile or two of the Aisir nam Breug tomorrow before he leaves,” Maggie said. “And tonight I shall sit meekly at the high board, being a perfect, if dull, hostess.” She chuckled. “My husband is very jealous, I find.”
“The man loves ye, lass,” her grandfather said. “Yer a fortunate woman.”
When the hunters returned, the king was in a particularly good mood, for he had bagged a half dozen grouse and killed an antlered stag. He was ready for his dinner and, knowing he would be, Maggie saw that it was promptly served. To begin, there were fat prawns broiled in butter, along with salmon poached in white wine. Then came the poultry, which included duck roasted with a sauce of raisins and apples; a fat capon; and a dish of tiny ortolons in a pie with a flaky crust. This was followed by game, venison, and rabbit, and a pottage of vegetables. Fresh crusty bread, butter, and cheese, both hard and soft, were also offered. The king’s cup was never allowed to empty, and the meal concluded with a dish of plump apples baked with honey and cinnamon.
Maggie was relieved that the king barely looked her way. He was enjoying the masculine company of the laird and her husband. He had taken a liking to both Clennon Kerr and Iver Leslie, who had ridden with them that day. And when she decided she might leave the hall, Maggie came and curtsied politely to the king.
“If ye will excuse me now, my lord,” she said, “I must see to my bairns. Is there anything ye need that I have not provided?”
The king’s eyes flicked over her, and Maggie held herself very still. “If ye would be kind enough to provide me with someone to warm my bed, madam, I should then be content.” His look was questioning.
“Of course, my lord. Someone buxom or more slender?” she inquired politely.
“Buxom and clean, madam,” the king responded.
“She will be awaiting ye, my lord,” Maggie said with another curtsy. Then she said to her husband, “I’ll see to Davy and Andrew and go straight to our bed, my lord, if that would please ye.”
“It pleases me,” Fin said, looking directly at her. Then he said, “I do believe, Maggie mine, that the king would enjoy Flora Kerr’s company.”
Now how did he know that? Maggie wondered as she nodded to her husband before turning and hurrying off. Flora Kerr was a pretty widow in the village who earned her living discreetly servicing men whose wives were with child. She kept no man as a lover, nor would she give herself to just any man. He had to have a wife who was with child before she would raise her skirts and offer herself. The women of the village appreciated the service she offered. Flora Kerr didn’t want their men. Her late husband had been a controlling man. She was relieved to be free of him. But she did miss the bedsport they had shared.
Maggie sought out Busby, and finding him said, “Fetch Flora Kerr. Tell her the king wants a woman for his bed tonight, and I would be grateful if she would service his needs. I will see she is reimbursed for her time. And tell her to wash. He specifically said the female should be clean. Take a sliver of my soap from the storeroom for her. If she smells of flowers, it will make him remember that we treated him well during his visit to Brae Aisir.”
“At once, my lady,” Busby said. “I’m certain Flora will be cooperative as well as honored by the king’s attentions.”
“Put her in his bed to await him,” Maggie said.
“Of course, my lady,” Busby replied, his eyes twinkling as his mistress turned away and hurried upstairs. He could but imagine her relief that the king had not wanted her to warm his bed. He went himself to fetch Flora Kerr and bring her back to the keep, stopping before he departed to collect the bit of soap from the storeroom.
Maggie told Grizel of the king’s request.
“He’s a randy fellow, but then, his da was too. Well, Flora will give him a happy time and leave him satisfied,” Grizel remarked. “The lads in the village have no complaint. And just how did ye know about Flora Kerr, my lady?”
“She was my husband’s suggestion,” Maggie said.
“What?!”
“The whole hall heard him suggest her,” Maggie replied.
“Perhaps he visited her when ye were carrying one of yer bairns,” Grizel murmured. “He’s a lusty man, his lordship.”
“Are ye telling me he has visited Flora Kerr himself?” Maggie asked.
“Well, how else would he know of her?” Grizel said. “She will only lie with a man whose wife has a big belly. It gives them surcease from their lust and satisfies hers.”
