She only asked the question to make him remember all of that, so he gave her a lazy smile to show her he had long since put that heartbreak behind him.
“I’ve come to speak with Huntly,” he said. “But first I have a lady waiting for me, so I’d best be off.”
“You’re too late,” his mother said before he had taken two steps.
He turned back to face her. “Too late for what?”
“To speak with Huntly,” his mother said.
“He’s left the castle?”Damn it.“Where’s he gone?”
“To his grave,” she said. “The Earl of Huntly is dead.”
Finn could almost hear the faeries laughing in their faery hills at his bad luck. Hell, what could he do now? As a skilled warrior, he could always go to Ireland or France and fight for the highest bidder, but he’d hate to leave Scotland.
“Why don’t ye come home to Garty?” his father asked. “Just until ye figure things out.”
Jesu, he hoped he had not sunk that low. He would rather live by his sword in a strange land or spend the rest of his days in one of his relatives’ dungeons than live at his parents’ home.
“I appreciate the offer, Father,” he said, “but—”
“For God’s sake, Finlay is a grown man,” his mother interrupted, planting a hand on her hip. “He neither needs nor deserves our charity.”
At that moment, like an angel from heaven, Janet Kennedy, the former mistress of King James IV of Scotland, appeared at Finn’s side to rescue him from his family. Janet was a woman not even Finn’s mother would dare challenge.
“I have need of Finlay,” was the only explanation she gave them before taking his arm and leading him away.
“God bless ye,” Finn said as they crossed the hall.
“How did ye manage to know that woman for twenty-seven years and not murder her?” Janet asked.
“Drinking helps.” He picked up a flagon of wine and two cups as they passed a table. “Where are ye taking me?”
“Upstairs,” Janet said. “You and I need to have a talk.”
“Only a talk?” Finn smiled and cocked an eyebrow. Though he was in no mood for flirtation after hearing the news of Huntly’s death, Janet expected it as her due.
“Aye, just a talk,” she said with a laugh.
Janet Kennedy was an extraordinary woman, still vivacious and beautiful at five and forty. In her youth, the strong-willed lass with flaming red hair had attracted powerful men, including the king. She was married three times, though the king had her first marriage annulled when he made her his mistress, and her third husband divorced her. Having outlived them all, she now reveled in her independence.
When Finn was twenty and full of himself, Janet had taken him to her bed and taught him lessons that every woman he bedded since should thank her for. Years had passed since their affair, but they remained good friends.
She led him up the enclosed circular stairs to a richly furnished bedchamber. As the mother of two royal bastards, she was an important guest and given one of the best chambers. She was also related to the Gordon chieftains, which probably made her and Finn third or fourth cousins, once or twice removed.
Janet took one of the chairs before the hearth, and Finn sprawled in the other and put his feet up.
“Damn Huntly for dying on me,” he said. “Ach, he probably wouldn’t have taken me back into his guard anyway.”
When Janet refused the cup of wine he poured for her, he drank it himself.
“Becoming a drunkard like your father,” she said, “will not solve your problem.”
“It serves him well enough,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Unlike your father, ye have no lands,” she said. “Consequently, you must make yourself valuable to someone who can give them to you.”
“I tried that and was nearly killed on Orkney for my efforts,” he said, raising his cup to her. “I suppose I could offer my sword to Huntly’s son.Ach, no, he’s dead too. The next Earl of Huntly is the sniveling grandson, isn’t he?”
