She nodded. "I will trust you, my lord, but remember I want no husband who will have dominion over me. I will be your mistress, but I do so of my own free will, not because you force me to it." She sat up and began to rebutton her jerkin.

"And I want no wife, although I ask one thing of you, lambkin. Never deceive me with another man. If the time comes that you want someone else you have but to tell me and I will let you go, but do not betray me, Alix Givet."

"I will not ever mislead you, my lord," she responded. "I swear it!" He was thinking of his wife, Alix thought. "But you must make me the same vow. If you decide you wish to have another for your mistress, or a wife, you will tell me in order that I not be shamed."

"If that day should ever come I will indeed inform you, and I will provide for you as well, lambkin. I know my responsibilities."

"I ask nothing of you but courtesy," Alix quickly said. "My father left me provided for, and I have the wherewithal to make my own way if I must, my lord. I am no whore to be cast off and paid for services rendered you other than my compensation for educating your daughter." There was a proud tilt to her little chin.

"It is not a matter we are faced with, so why should we argue over it?" he replied. Her stubborn pride pleased him well. Robena had wanted everything of him.

"I will awaken Fiona, my lord." Alix stood up and brushed her skirts off. Then she went to gently shake the little girl awake.

They rode back to Dunglais in the late-afternoon sunshine, listening to the now-rested Fiona chatter about how she wished to ride all the way to Edinburgh one day to see the king. "Do you think he would marry a girl like me?" she wondered aloud.

"Kings usually marry great ladies," her father told her.

"Are you not a great lord, Da?" Fiona wanted to know.

Malcolm Scott laughed aloud. "Nay, lassie, I'm just an insignificant border lord with a herd of cattle, a flock of sheep, and an old stone keep."

"But you were the old king's friend. Can't you be the new king's friend too, and ask him to make you a great lord?" Fiona wanted to know.

"Our new king is a little boy, Fiona. He's just two years older than you are. And his days are spent very much like yours are, learning his lessons and learning how to be a good king of Scotland like his father and his grandfather were. And he is already betrothed to little Princess Margaret of Denmark. His wise father did that for him before he was killed, God assoil his soul," the laird told his daughter.

"Am I betrothed?" Fiona wanted to know.

Malcolm Scott chuckled. "I am not certain yet that I ever want to let you go," he said with a smile at his little daughter.

"Oh, Da!" Fiona replied, but they could tell she was pleased.

As they sat afterwards at the high board when Fiona had gone to her bed, Alix asked the laird, "How did you know the king, and were you really his friend?"

"Jamie Stewart and I were educated together," Malcolm Scott said. "When King James the First was murdered and his eldest son became king, his mother, Queen Joan, sought for a few lads his age who were not involved with either the Douglases, Lord Chrichton's family, or the Livingstones to be companions to the boy king. Jamie had been the survivor of twins and he bore a rather harsh birthmark. Half of his face was the color of an amethyst. In the streets he was known as James of the Fiery Face."

"Oh, how sad!" Alix noted.

"Because of it he didn't like great public shows or spectacles where he had to show himself. He was intelligent, inquisitive, and preferred companions like himself. He had nothing but scorn for old Douglas, and as for Crichton and the Livingstones he but bided his time until he could take control of his kingdom, for there was a ruthless streak in him. It was shortly after he married Marie of Gueldres, the Duke of Burgundy's niece, that he exerted his influence. Many thought she was behind it, and while I am certain she encouraged her husband, Jamie was his own man. We learned to like bad women, good whiskey, and guns together. Of course, I went back to the borders right after he married. He didn't need me then. My father had just died, and a border holding not strongly held by its owner is apt to be taken by another."

"Were you with him at Roxburgh?" Alix asked.

"Aye," the laird replied grimly. "I said that damned canon was ill loaded, but he was so anxious to show off for his queen. He loved her, you know, and got four sons, and two daughters on her. She has not just the little king to worry about, but the other five as well. Hers is not an easy task, but she was a good wife to Jamie, a good queen, and she is proving stronger than anyone anticipated as the queen mother."

"So in a way you were brought up at a court too," Alix remarked.

"Not really," the laird replied. "We moved from place to place. We were always on the go. There was no real court as you would know it. The idea was to keep the king safe and alive. To get him educated to take up his duties. Most of the other boys fell away in the furor between all the factions trying to control the king's person. But he would never go anywhere without me, and I even slept in his bedchamber most of the time. We were bedded by the same whore for the first time when we were fifteen," Malcolm Scott chuckled as he remembered. "Livingstone was a prig, but Crichton arranged it for the king, and if the king did it then I had to do it. Jamie Stewart would have it no other way."

"And after that you never looked back," she teased him.

"Nay, I never looked back. And now I am looking forward to a new adventure, lambkin." He took her hand and kissed it, laughing softly when she blushed.

"You are so bold," she said softly. "You frighten me, and yet I trust you. 'Tis odd."

"I don't want you frightened of me," he told her earnestly. "But I believe once we have become lovers in every sense you will not be afraid of me, Alix. At least I hope not." He still held her hand in his, and now, turning the palm up, he placed a kiss upon it.

He excited her. She had never before felt excitement for a man, but Malcolm Scott excited her. His touch set her pulses racing. "My lord," she whispered, looking into his handsome face. And he was indeed handsome to her eye.

He smiled a slow smile. "May I come to you later?" he asked her softly.

Alix's heart thundered in her chest. For a moment she wasn't even certain she could breathe. She was actually considering what it would be like to be naked in his arms. But what if his gentle words were just that-words? What if Hayle's treatment of her was the way all men behaved with women? But it couldn't be! Her mother could not have loved her father had he been such a brute as Hayle Watteson. Nor could Queen Margaret have loved her husband if he had been so cruel. But both her mother and the queen were devoted to their men. And she would never know the truth of men and women if she did not take this one chance. And if it was awful? Well, then she would flee Dunglais.

"Alix?" His deep voice penetrated her thoughts.

"Aye," she whispered. "You may come to me, my lord."

"Colm," he said. "If we are lovers, Alix, then you must call me Colm."

She stood abruptly, pulling her hand from his. "I must go to my chamber now, my lord," she told him and fled the hall.

I must bring some wine with me, he thought. My lambkin is yet frightened, but struggles to be brave. I will give her time. Perhaps I shall even let her sleep a brief time. Coming down from the high board he seated himself by the fire, gazing into the crackling, leaping flames as they burned. "Wine!" he called out to no one in particular. And after a brief time a goblet was placed in his hand. "My thanks," he said, looking up to see Fenella by his side. "Sit," he invited her.

"You were in deep conversation with Alix earlier," Fenella noted.

"She will be mine before morning," the laird said. "She has agreed to it."

Fenella nodded. "Be kind, my lord. Be gentle. Alix has suffered at a man's cruel hands, and while she may have agreed, she will still be frightened."

"She is to be my mistress," he said.

Fenella nodded again. "Better you took her to wife, my lord."

"I want no wife and she wants no husband," Malcolm Scott answered his kinswoman. "It is an excellent arrangement. We have agreed to be open with each other should we find another who pleases us more. She will be the perfect mistress."

"And what kind of an example is that to set for your daughter?" Fenella asked candidly. "Fiona believes you loved her mother so much that you can love no other."

"Fiona is young, and will not see the change in the relationship between Alix and me," the laird declared. "And she loves Alix, who is like a mother to her."

"Fiona loves you. If she discovers you have taken Alix to your bed she will assume you love her," Fenella pointed out.

"Have you not been nagging at me to take a woman?" the laird grumbled.

"I want you to take a wife, and Alix Givet is the wife for you. She is young enough to give you sons. She is educated and sophisticated enough to keep you from becoming bored with her. But she has also learned the lessons of loyalty to a husband, to clan, as Robena Ramsay did not. Alix will never betray you, my lord. She will never shame our name. She deserves better than to be your mistress."

"Hush your mouth, Fenella. I want no wife, and Alix declares she will have no husband to hold dominion over her. She has agreed to my coming into her bed. The bargain has been struck!" He emptied his goblet and stood up. "I will bid you good night, kinswoman." And he strode from the hall.

"I told you you wouldn't get your way in this, my pretty schemer," Iver chuckled, coming forward from the shadows to join Fenella at the hearth.