Free The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small Page A

survive this unfortunate turn in their fortunes now that they were homeless.

    Falkland Palace was one of James IV‘s favorite palaces for hunting and relaxation. It had been built some two hundred years back, and while the king was now considering a new palace nearby, he still used the old one, which consisted of three rectangular wings set about a central courtyard. Its style was considered Scottish Gothic. They rode into the courtyard, and stablemen hurried to take their horses. Ellen could hardly walk at this point, for she was so tired. Duncan Armstrong had his arm about her shoulders as they walked.
    "Where is Princess Margaret?" he asked a servant as they entered the palace, and when he was told, the laird directed his steps in the correct direction. The guardsmen at the door to the princess‘s apartments flung the doors open for them, and they passed through into Margaret Stewart‘s quarters.
    The king‘s aunt was seated with some of her ladies, discussing a book of poetry, when they entered. Her eyes widened as she saw Ellen, and she immediately stood up. "What has happened, my lord?" she demanded of the laird.
    "Please, madam, could a bed be found for this lady before she collapses?" Duncan said. "I will be glad to explain then."
    "Peigi," Ellen said weakly.
    "And could a messenger be sent to Linlithgow to Mistress Ellen‘s serving woman? She must not travel north to Lochearn," the laird said.
    The princess directed two of her women to help Ellen to the women‘s dormitory, where she might rest. Then she sent a male servant to Linlithgow to prevent Peigi from leaving, and if possible to bring her back to Falkland. "Tell her that her mistress has returned and is with me."
    Now Margaret Stewart turned to Duncan Armstrong. "Come, sir, into my privy chamber, where you will tell me what is going on. Should I send for my brother first?"
    "If you would, madam. It would be simpler to tell the tale but once," the laird responded with a small smile.
    Margaret Stewart nodded. "Katherine Gordon, go and fetch the king to me. Tell him I do not care what he is doing; he is to come with all possible haste."
    The girl curtsied and hurried off. She was stunningly beautiful, the laird noted. Gordon. Perhaps Huntley‘s daughter? Curious, considering the Earl of Huntley‘s opposition to the young king, but hardly his business. Right now all he wanted to do was go home to Duffdour and begin fortifying it, now that he had permission. He had taken Ellen MacArthur to Lochearn, and he had brought her back when she sought his help. He had been away from home long enough. He would tell the king what had happened, and then he was finished. He wanted to go home.
    James Stewart had been with Margaret Drummond when the Earl of Huntley‘s daughter had
    come to fetch him. He had not wanted to leave his mistress‘s side, but Lord Drummond‘s daughter was no fool. She sent him off with a smile and a kiss to discover whatever it was his aunt had to tell him. The king was surprised to see the laird of Duffdour. He had assumed that Duncan Armstrong would return directly to his own home in the borders after delivering Ellen MacArthur to her grandfather. If he was here, however, then something was wrong.
    "What has happened?" the king asked his border lord.
    "There has been murder done at Lochearn. I arrived with the lass to discover that the MacArthurs of Skye had taken the keep. The old laird and his heir were tied to their chairs at the high board, where they had both been brutally slain. Then Balgair MacArthur produced a document he claimed was signed by the old laird. It made Balgair his heir, and instructed him to wed with his granddaughter, Ellen. I asked the lass if it were truly her grandsire‘s hand, and she said it was. I had no choice but to leave her there."
    The king nodded. "Is that all?" he asked.
    "Nay, my liege, it is not. We departed Lochearn with the new laird‘s promise to give the girl a month to mourn, for he would have