Free The Border Vixen by Bertrice Small

much is it costing Brae Aisir?” he asked.
    Lord Stewart laughed. “I see my cousin’s reputation extends into the depths of the Borders,” he replied. “He wanted half of the yearly tolls paid each Michaelmas in coin. I argued for a third. When the contracts for our agreement reach me, I shall ask they be paid on St. Andrew’s Day beginning next year. I believe that is fairer as I have no idea what ye collect, although judging from yer keep, I must assume it is a goodly sum.”
    “It is,” the laird said, but gave no further details.
    “Perhaps tomorrow the lady will ride out with me so I may see the pass,” Lord Stewart suggested.
    “Aye, before the winter comes there is much you will need to see and learn about Brae Aisir. And tomorrow I shall send one of my own men to the king with my thanks for sending ye. If ye wish to write to him, my messenger can take yer letter too.”
    Father David Kerr, robes swaying, hurried into the hall, his servant behind him carrying the priest’s writing box. “What is so important that I must come posthaste, Dugald?” he asked his older brother. The priest’s eyes went to Lord Stewart.
    “This is Fingal Stewart, Brother. The king has sent his cousin, Lord Stewart of Torra, to wed with Maggie,” the laird began. Then he went on to explain.
    The priest listened, nodding as his elder brother spoke. When the laird had finished he said, “ ’Tis as good a solution as any, Dugald.” He held out his hand to Fingal. “Welcome to Brae Aisir, my lord.” The two men shook. Then David Kerr looked back to the laird. “And what, pray, does my niece think of this? I saw her when I came into the courtyard working her lads hard. I think she is not pleased to be told what she must do.”
    “She will sign the marriage contract tomorrow when it is drawn and ready,” the laird assured the priest.
    “And the blessing?” the priest asked.
    “He must fulfill the conditions any other suitor would before the blessing,” Dugald Kerr said. “She is determined, and Lord Stewart says he can beat her fairly.”
    “You would let her have her way in her foolishness?” David Kerr asked Fingal.
    He nodded in the affirmative. “Aye. She needs to feel she has some control over her life even if she doesn’t. Some men might not care, but I want my wife to respect me. She will not if I cannot best her. And yer neighbors will not feel so slighted by this match when I do.”
    The priest looked thoughtful, and then replied, “Yer a clever fellow, my lord. And I think ye could be dangerous, given the opportunity. If yer willing to indulge the lass, then so be it. When will yer contest take place?”
    “After the gleaning,” Lord Stewart replied.
    “Well, ’tis not so long to wait,” the priest said. “I’m pleased to see yer a disciplined man.”
    “Remain here tonight, and draw up the contracts,” the laird said. “I want them signed after morning Mass, Brother.”
    “Agreed!” David Kerr said. He turned to his assistant. “Tam, go and put my writing box in the laird’s library. Then go home. I’ll not need ye again till the morrow.”
    “Aye, Father David,” the boy said, and hurried off to do as he had been bid.
    A servant brought the priest a goblet of wine, and the three men sat talking before one of the hall’s two large hearths. Seeing them there as she came in, Maggie slipped up the stairs to her bedchamber where Grizel awaited. The serving woman had had her young mistress’s tub set up, and the steam was rising from the hot water as Maggie entered the room.
    “I didn’t ask ye for a bath,” the girl said.
    “Yer not going down to the hall for the meal stinking of yer sweat like some man-at-arms,” Grizel said firmly. “What will yer husband think of ye?”
    “He’s not my husband yet,” Maggie said, irritated.
    “He will be on the morrow,” Grizel snapped back.
    “Does everyone in Brae Aisir know my business now?” She pulled off her boots and garments