"Are you all right, my lord?" Alix's sweet voice pierced his thoughts.
"My head hurts," he admitted to her.
"We will soon be at St. Margaret's," she said. "The past few days have been busy for us. You are not used to even an informal court such as Queen Marie's. We will be home in a few days, and you will be better."
"Aye, it will be good to get back to Dunglais," he agreed.
The weather was beginning to turn. Their first day of travel had been beneath a weak sun and a still wind. The second day was gray and the wind had begun to rise, but at least it was at their backs.
Halfway through the third day it began to snow lightly, but the winds had picked up. The tiny white flakes melted at first as they hit the ground, but as the snow grew heavier it began to stick, and by the time Dunglais Keep came into view it was barely visible. The laird had transferred Fiona from the small gelding she had been riding. He had set his daughter before him, wrapping his own heavy cape about her to keep her warmer. He looked to Alix, who rode by his side. She was hunched down, the hood of her cloak pulled well up, her head down.
"We're almost there, lambkin," he said to her.
She looked up briefly, giving him a smile. "I hope Fenella has a hot stew," Alix responded. "I am ravenous after this icy day and our cold ride. I thought the meal served this morning at St. Ninian's was paltry, and they gave us nothing for our bellies along the way. It was stingy," Alix grumbled.
He chuckled.
"Is Fiona all right?" she asked him in a concerned tone.
"She's fallen asleep, poor mite," he answered her. She loved his child. Was not that a point in her favor? Robena had disliked their child for no other reason than she had been a female, which meant his wife must attempt once again to get an heir. He had not been unhappy with a daughter.
"Is she warm enough, Colm?" Alix wanted to know.
"She's not freezing, and we'll be home shortly," he said. The keep was getting nearer and nearer.
"It was like this the day I sheltered among your cattle," Alix said.
"It's early yet for snow," the laird said. "It will not last."
"I was so fortunate to be found by your men before I died," Alix remembered.
"You may show me your gratitude for rescuing you this evening," the laird teased.
Alix laughed.
And then they were riding into the courtyard of Dunglais Keep.
Stable lads ran out to take their horses. Alix jumped down from her mare, and reaching out, took a sleepy Fiona from the laird. He dismounted, and together they hurried into the house. Both Iver and Fenella came forward wearing broad smiles.
"Welcome home, my lord!" they chorused.
In the great hall the two hearths were heaped high with logs and burning brightly.
Alix set the half-conscious Fiona gently on her feet, an arm about the child. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she said. "We are home at last."
Fiona's bright blue eyes snapped open. "Home?" She looked about her, and then she cried, "We are home! We are home!"
"You would never know she had a wonderful time at Ravenscraig," Alix told Fenella. "The king himself taught her to play chess."
"Gracious!" Fenella exclaimed. "Consorting with a king, were you, my bonnie?"
"He's ever so nice," Fiona said. "Not at all like his three rough younger brothers. I didn't like them at all, Fenella. Especially the Duke of Albany. He is very rude. The two earls are not so bad, but bad enough."
Fenella's face registered the proper amount of interest and awe. Then she said, "Fuzzytail had her kittens while you were away. Would you like to come and see them? They have just opened their eyes today."
"Oh yes!" Fiona replied excitedly.
"The meal will be on the table shortly," Fenella said. Then she took Fiona off to see the new kittens.
Iver took brought them goblets of mulled wine and took their capes away. Together the laird and Alix sat down upon a settle next to one of the hearths, the heated spiced wine in the goblets warming their hands. They remained silent for a few minutes, the crackling of the fire in the fireplace the only sound.
Then the laird said, "Are you glad to be home, lambkin?"
"Aye, I am," Alix said.
"Queen Marie would have gladly had you in her household," the laird noted.
"But I prefer the company and life at Dunglais," Alix responded.
"Why?" he asked her pointedly.
Alix considered a moment. Then she said, "Are you not happy to have me here, my lord of Dunglais?"
"Of course I want you here!" he said half-angrily. "Do you think otherwise?"
"Why do you want me here?" she inquired, neatly turning the tables on him.
"You are good to my daughter," he answered her quickly.
"Is that all, Colm?" she replied.
He was very quiet for what seemed a long time, and then he answered her with another question. "Do you love me, Alix?" His gray eyes searched her face anxiously.
"Aye," she answered him without hesitation. "Do you love me?"
"Aye," he responded as quickly, gazing into her hazel eyes, and his heart leaped with pure happiness at the look of joy upon her sweet face at his answer. He took her two hands in his and kissed them passionately. "You will marry me!" he said. He didn't ask. It had been a statement pure and simple.
"Aye, I will!" she told him, laughing. Then she grew serious. "But what of Sir Udolf of Wulfborn, Colm? He still seeks among the families on both sides of the border for me. Does the dispensation he carries require my obedience? Must I marry him unless he frees me of the obligation?"
Malcolm Scott looked puzzled. "I do not know," he admitted, "but if we have wed according to the laws of Holy Mother Church in Scotland, can the rite be denied by the church in England?"
"I am not a scholar," Alix said. "We must ask your priest. Until then say nothing, my lord. And after we have had the benefit of clerical counsel I would like us to tell Fiona first. She should be consulted also if you propose to make me her mother."
At that moment Fiona came running into the hall cradling in her hands a small white kitten with a tiny pine tree of a tail that was both black and white. "Look!" she said. "This is Fuzzytail's daughter. She has two brothers, but they are not nearly as pretty as she is. Can I have her, Da? Please!"
The laird looked to Fiona. Then he looked to Alix.
"I think Fiona is old enough to have her own cat," Alix said. Then she turned to the girl. "But the kitten is not ready to leave her mother, ma petite. She is still just a wee babe. You must take her back to Fuzzy tail until her mama can wean her from her teat and teach her to hunt. But you can certainly visit her every day and play with her."
"What will you call her?" the laird wanted to know.
"Bannerette," Fiona replied.
"Bannerette?" The laird looked puzzled.
"It is very clever, Fiona," Alix told the child. "I think it a perfect name."
Fiona beamed proudly. "I will take her back to Fuzzytail now, Alix."
"Hurry, ma petite. I see they are about to serve the meal."
Fiona ran off with the kitten.
"Bannerette?" the laird repeated.
"The kitten's tail is like a little black and white banner. When she grows up, it will be more obvious. And since she is a female, she is Bannerette, not Banner," Alix explained to him.
"As Fiona grows, I understand her less and less despite the fact I adore her," Malcolm Scott said. "But you understand her completely."
Alix laughed. "She is a girl. Of course I understand her."
The laird pulled Alix into his arms and, caressing her face, he said, "You are the most perfect woman, lambkin."
"And you are the most perfect man," she responded, gazing up at him adoringly.
He kissed her tenderly, wondering why it had never been like this with his wife. But he had been given a second chance, and he was going to take it. He loved her, and she loved him.