Page 26 of Betrayed

Maggie MacLeod snorted with impatience. “Surely ye are not waiting for Angus Gordon to declare himself, Fiona Hay? Ye cannot be that silly! Men are children; they never grow up. A man needs to be reassured that his suit will not be denied before he can muster up the courage to tell a woman that he truly loves her.”

“But I thought I should wait for him to say it first, and the queen agrees.”

“Blessed Mother!”Maggie MacLeod swore. “Listen to me, Fiona Hay. I have no doubts that the king loves the queen, but the first thing that crossed his cannyStewart mind when he decided to choose a bride was her suitability. Do ye understand me?” Lady Grey's eyes bored into Fiona's.

“Joan Beaufort was certainly the most eligible maid in all of England. James Stewart swept her off her innocent little feet with his charm and his attentions. And she, encouraged, no doubt, by her powerful Beaufort relations and by daydreams of a queen's crown blurring her vision, probably whispered shyly to our liege lord thatshe loved him.Only then, I promise ye, did he say thathe loved her.

“That is how it always is in the battle between men and women, and how it is always likely to be. If the women of this world did not take matters into their own hands, not a man would take a woman to wife.” She laughed. “How do ye think I caught Ben Duff? A more sly widower there never was, but I was a canny lass, and when my Andrew learned I was carrying his heir, there was no holding him back. He couldn't get me to the priest fast enough!” She laughed again, her bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What yer saying to me, Lady Grey, is that I have been a damned simpering little fool,” Fiona replied. “Is that not so?”

“Aye,” Maggie drawled. “Yer a highland woman, Fiona Hay, and we highlanders take what we want. We don't wait to be invited. Did ye not steal yer laird's cattle?”

“I have never admitted to it,” Fiona quickly replied, but Maggie MacLeod only laughed louder.

“Ye had better get Black Angus to the altar, lassie, before some bold baggage here at the court decides she wants him, or the king decides to give him a nice English heiress in return for his loyalty.” Then she loweredher voice to a deep whisper. “Have ye been taking something to prevent conception?”

Silently Fiona nodded.

“Don't take any more, Fiona Hay. Let yer man put his bairn in yer belly, and for sweet Jesu's sake, tell him that ye love him before it's too late. Happiness is not an easy commodity to find in this world. Ye must hold tight to it when ye do find it.” Maggie MacLeod took Fiona's hand in hers and gave it an encouraging little squeeze.

“Now I have two friends at court,” Fiona said softly.

“I'm in good company.” The older woman chuckled.

The queen's page announced that it was time for them all to adjourn to the Great Hall, where a new group of noblemen and lairds would be coming to pledge their loyalty and have the patents for their lands examined for approval. The queen, accompanied by her women, hurried to join the rest of the court.

“God's boots,” Maggie MacLeod murmured, her eye scanning the hall and lighting upon a man. “’Tis my cousin of Nairn, Colin MacDonald. What brings him here, I wonder, for he is as independent a highlander as was his sire.”

“Who was that?” Fiona asked.

“Donald MacDonald, late Lord of the Isles,” Maggie said softly. “Nairn is a bastard half-brother to Alexander, the third Lord of the Isles, but Colin MacDonald's first loyalty is to his brother and his clan. Their interests would be unlikely to coincide with the king's. What can he be doing here? The king will go to Inverness eventually to take oaths from the northern lords. Why has The MacDonald of Nairn come all the way to Perth?”

“Why not ask him?” Fiona suggested in practical tones.

Maggie MacLeod laughed. “I don't know if he would tell me the truth. Colin can tell a lie better than any man I have ever known.” Her fingers worried her blue brocade surcoat as she considered Fiona's pragmatic suggestion. “It's been at least five years since I last saw him. He may not even know me now.”

“Ye knew him,” Fiona said dryly.

“Colin is not a man a woman forgets.”

“Ye dinna mean—” Fiona didn't know whether to be shocked or not.

Maggie chuckled. “He had his hands up my skirts when I was twelve. We mature earlier in the northwest.” She shrugged. “He was always a wild one, Colin MacDonald.”

Across the hall the subject of their discussion watched the two women covertly. A small smile briefly touched the corners of his big mouth. Cousin Maggie had grown into a very pretty woman, but the girl by her side was a rare beauty. He was about to make his way across the chamber to greet his relation and be introduced to her companion when a tall, dark-haired man came up to them. He smiled, a few words were exchanged, and then the man escorted the beauty off. Before Maggie MacLeod might turn away, Colin MacDonald crossed the room in several large steps and was at her side.

“Maggie! And prettier than ever, I see,” he said jovially, kissing her on the cheek. “How nice to see a friendly face among all these damned Sassanachs.” He spoke to her in the Gaelic of the north.

“Mind yer mouth, Colly,” Maggie warned him softly. “Enough of the court speaks the Gael to have ye hung. What are ye doing here?”

He answered her question with one of his own. “Who was the exquisite creature with ye a moment back?”

“Answer me first, cousin,” she said firmly.

“Alex wants the lay of the land,” Colin MacDonald said frankly.

“Why?”

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