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Royal blood had been a curse in Titus’ case, but it also meant he kept abreast of the politics of Scotland. He knew who the enemies of the Crown were, and he knew the major players, and MacMerry had most definitely been an enemy.

He was careful in his reply.

“What does it matter if I have or have not?” he asked, a twinkle to his dark green eyes. “All that matters is that ye have the money and I have the time. Let’s have a drink before I wash the grime from my body.”

He was already moving for Clegg’s elaborate sideboard, brought all the way from Constantinople. Upon it sat a full pitcher of wine and cut glass cups. Titus poured two full measures and handed one to the old woman, who was gulping it down before he even took his first sip.

That gave him an idea.

“More, love?” he asked, picking up the pitcher again. “Come, now. Let’s drink tae our good health and tae the sovereignty of Scotland.”

Mary eagerly took another drink, spilling some of it on her breasts. “’Tis fine wine, indeed.”

Titus refilled her cup even though it wasn’t quite empty. “It is,” he said. “The finest wine for the finest women. Tell me, Mary – how did ye come here? I’ve not seen ye before.”

Mary was nervous. Titus could see that her hands were trembling as she downed her wine.

“I’ve come before, indeed,” she said. “I’ve seen ye fight many a time. Ye’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. A beauteous lad, ye are.”

Titus grinned, flashing straight and white teeth. “And ye’ve never wanted tae see me before now?”

Mary shrugged. “There are a hundred women waiting for ye every time I come,” she said. “I paid well tae have ye tae myself tonight because I’ve come with a purpose.”

“Oh?” he said, sipping his wine. Unlike Mary, he didn’t want to become drunk. “What is that?”

Mary took another gulp of wine that drained her cup. Oddly, Titus wasn’t feeling as insulted or furious at the moment. Mary wasn’t as sultry as she had been when he’d first entered the chamber. She seemed nervous and… forlorn. It was difficult to describe.

He filled her cup again.

“Tell me, Mary,” he said. “Why did ye come?”

She took another big drink before looking at him. “I came tae touch yer young body,” she said. “But I’ll give ye something in exchange.”

“Of course ye will. Money.”

She shook her head. “Something better,” she said. “I have no heirs, lad. When I pass, Whitekirk Castle will return tae the king and I dunna want him tae have it.”

“I canna help ye, lady.”

She nodded eagerly. “Ye can,” she said. “If… if ye let me touch ye, I’ll make ye my heir. I’d rather have Whitekirk go tae a lowly fighter than go tae the bastard on the throne. Will ye take the castle instead of money?”

Titus almost started laughing. If the woman knew who he really was, she would not have made such an offer. This certainly wasn’t something he had expected when he’d entered the chamber.

At first, he wasn’t sure what to say, but the royal bastard in him who had been denied everything from birth wasn’t afraid to speak up. It was the entire reason Titus had become a fighter for profit – he had to work for everything he ever had and ever would have. He’d been born into poverty, held captive for years, before finally being released only to discover that his father had no intention of acknowledging him. Therefore, he’d learned to take money where he could get it.

Including accepting a castle from an old woman with no heirs.

“Are ye certain about that?” he said. “It seems like a high price tae pay, even tae me.”

“I’ve no one else. Will ye accept?”

He eyed her a moment as if deliberating, but it was all an act. If she was serious, then he’d be foolish to pass it up.

“Of course, m’dear,” he said. “I wouldna want ye tae go tae yer grave fearful of leaving yer property behind. But tell me again so there are no misunderstandings – are ye sure ye want me tae have it?”

The old woman nodded. “I do,” she said, downing most of her second cup of wine. “And dunna worry – I’ve no relatives tae contest my wishes. I’ll find a Serjeant-at-Law and have him witness my signature on my will. But I only know ye as The Eagle, love. What’s yer name?”

“Titus Alexander Albert Hugh Stewart.”