The Border Vixen Read Online Free PDF Page B

undistinguished house. They were not wealthy, nor influential, and had no place among the court or the powerful. Fingal Stewart hired his sword out when he needed funds. His father had done the same.
    The rest of the time he lived quietly, gambling with a few friends now and again and enjoying the favors of one of the town’s pretty whores for a night or two. His funds did not extend much beyond that. He had been decently educated, but he had no pretensions, for there were plenty of others bearing the name Stewart who kept him from thinking he was someone special. He wasn’t, and he didn’t want to be.
    “The king wants someone not associated with him, but he also wants someone he can trust, Fingal,” Janet Munro told her cousin. “Ye are nae just his kin. Yer mine too.”
    He thought a moment, and then grinned. “Aye, I am related to ye both. Maire Drummond gave David Stewart, Duke of Rothsay, heir to King Robert the Third, a son. She was enceinte with the bairn when Rothsay was murdered by Albany, so James the First followed his father after his exile in England.”
    “The Drummonds protected the bairn whose mam died birthing him,” Janet said.
    “And Albany was so busy with his plotting to supplant his nephew, he forgot all about the child who grew up, married an heiress, and sired two sons and two daughters before dying in his bed at the age of fifty-four,” Fingal said.
    “Which of the sons do you descend from?” Janet asked, curious.
    “The elder, who was christened Robert after his father. He had a son, David, who wed Jane Munro, and sired James, who sired me at the advanced age of fifty-six.”
    “God’s mercy,” Janet exclaimed. “I did not know that! How old was yer mam?”
    “Sixteen,” Fingal Stewart said. “She was the granddaughter of an old friend. Her entire family was wiped out in a winter plague. She had nothing, so she sent to my father, begging his help. There was nothing for it but to marry her, for she had virtually naught to bring any man for a dower. Even the church did not want her. I was conceived on their wedding night. My father wanted to be sure that my mother was safe if he died because, while he was hardly a wealthy man, he did have this house and a small store of coin with the goldsmith. He believed if they shared a child, none would dispute her rights. And she loved him, strange to say. She died when I was ten.”
    “But your father lived to be eighty,” Janet Munro said. “I remember my father remarking upon it. He said he had never known a man to live that long.”
    “Do ye love him?” Lord Stewart asked her, suddenly changing the subject entirely. “Do you love James Stewart, Jan?”
    .Janet Munro thought a moment, and then she said, “James Stewart is nae a man who inspires love, but I like him well enough, and he is good to me. He wants a lover who pleases him and asks little of him. Actually he is more generous that way.” She laughed. “My influence with him is coming to an end, for he plans to go to France in the autumn. He wants a queen, and Marie de Bourbon, daughter of the Duke of Vendôme, is available. I have just discovered I am enceinte, and so I will retire to my father’s house when the king leaves, and only return at his invitation, which is unlikely. He will nae offend his new queen, nor would I make an enemy of her.”
    Fingal Stewart nodded. “When would he see me?” he asked.
    “Come back to Linlithgow with me today,” she said.
    He nodded. “Very well,” he agreed. “I suppose today is as good a day as any. But first I must see if Archie can find me more respectable garb in which to meet the king.”
    “I’m not sure ye have a good enough garment to go to the court,” Archie said dourly when asked. Turning to Janet Munro, the serving man complained, “I keep telling him he must keep one fine thing, but he says the expense is not worth it.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can find for him, my lady.”
    “He’s quite devoted to