“In a day or two,” his sibling replied. “What a tale you’ll have to tell your bairns one day of how you saw Scotland’s king crowned, and feasted in his hall afterwards.”
“I’d as soon find a noisy tavern in which to celebrate,” Fergus grumbled. “These high lords chafe me, and besides, the farther north they come from the more difficult it is to understand a word they say. I’m fearful for my life that I might unknowingly insult one of them and end up spitting the fellow on my sword,” Fergus complained.
“Then just eat, drink, laugh when those at our board do, and ogle the lovely wenches,” his brother suggested.
“You’re hoping to see that pretty creature who rode next to the queen that day on the road,” Fergus said slyly. “You’ve spoken of her several times since. She’s riding with one of the Gordons. They say he means to have her to wife.”
“How the hell do you know all this gossip?” Ian demanded.
“I drink in taverns instead of the palace hall, and I saw him helping her up onto her horse when we came from the abbey,” Fergus replied, grinning broadly.
“Who do we know here who would introduce me to her?” Ian wondered aloud.
“Sir William will be among those in the hall today,” Fergus reminded his brother. Sir William Douglas was Glengorm’s overlord.
“Aye, I’m a dunderhead not to have remembered it! Then I shall this day be presented to that pretty wench. Shall I fall in love with her, Fergus?”
“Why not?” His younger brother chuckled. “Don’t you fall in love with them all before you seduce them? I never knew such a lad for the lasses. Our grandfather would be proud of you, Ian. Father lived but long enough to sire us, and I killed our mam with my birth. But our grandfather was a man for the lasses just like you are.”
“Aye, I see his face aplenty among those in our glen.” Ian laughed. “ ’Tis not so fair a face upon the lasses as it is the lads.” Then, suddenly finding himself pelted with flowers, he looked up to see a group of women in an upper window watching the procession and waving. Ian Douglas waved and gave them a wink. The maids above squealed delightedly, and he laughed again.
“You had better save yourself if you intend having anything left for the queen’s little companion,” Fergus said wryly.
Ian Douglas roared with laughter. “Mayhap you’re right,” he agreed. “But then, I always have more than enough for the lasses,” the laird of Glengorm boasted, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.
Fergus Douglas shook his head. “Our clan would nae tolerate you were you not such a good laird to them,” he said. “Ian, listen to me. It is past time you ceased this constant merriment. You need to find a wife. To sire another generation for Glengorm. I know there are none at home who attract you enough to wed, but perhaps this pretty English girl will please you. She looks biddable enough, and the gossip is that not only is she close to her mistress, but she has a plump dower as well. I’ve never known you to speak twice of any lass, but you have spoken much of her since we saw her on the road.”
“Advice from my little brother,” Ian Douglas teased his sibling.
“I’m but eleven months younger, and I already have a wife, a bairn, and another on the way,” Fergus Douglas said seriously.
“You’re my heir, and your bairns,” the laird said carelessly. “Glengorm is safe.”
Fergus shook his dark brown head. “You are the laird,” he said stubbornly. “It is your duty to wed and breed heirs.”
Ian Douglas shrugged. Then he sighed. “I know,” he admitted. “But I must be honest with you, little brother. You say I have spoken often of the girl on the road. ’Tis truth, for I have. There was something about her . . . I am not even certain I can put a name to it. But I believe she is the mate for me, Fergus. I must have her to wife! I want no other. ’Tis madness I speak, and I will never admit it to another.”
“Then we had best find Sir William so he may introduce you to this lass,” Fergus said in practical tones. “If she’s the one then you had best begin your courting quickly, lest the Gordon laird steal her away from you.”
The two men returned to the small inn where they had managed to find accommodation, thanks to Sir William, who had wanted a goodlyshowing of his clansmen at the coronation. Ian Douglas washed his face and his hands. His face bore a skim of reddish stubble, but he had nothing with which to shave. His hair was shaggy, brushing the nape of his neck, not at all the short, fashionable cut worn by the king and many others. He was dressed in dark woolen breeks, a white shirt, and a leather jerkin. His dark velvet cap bore his clan badge and an eagle’s feather. His boots were incapable of being polished any more. His brother was dressed no better.
Returning to the palace, they sought out their clan chief, Sir William Douglas, who, seeing the two young men, greeted them warmly. “Well, what think you of this Stewart king?” he asked them candidly.
“He seems a fair man, if hard,” Ian answered slowly.
Sir William nodded. “Aye, lad, you have a good eye for men.”
“It’s women he’s interested in.” Fergus chortled. “One lassie in particular.”
Sir William raised any eyebrow. “Indeed, Glengorm, and who is it?”
“I don’t know who she is, my lord,” Ian answered. “I was hoping you could tell me, and then perhaps arrange an introduction.”
“Is she here in the hall?” Sir William asked. “Can you point her out to me?”
Ian Douglas scanned the hall, and then he saw her. She was dressed in a grass green velvet gown over which she wore a deeper green brocade surcoat. Her auburn tresses were loose this evening, and fell in luxuriant waves about her small face. He couldn’t help but contemplate whether that beautiful hair would be as soft as it looked. “ ’Tis that lass,” he said, pointing. “Near the queen.”
“The one with the Gordon standing by her side with a proprietary air,” Fergus put in wickedly, grinning.
