Bond of Passion Read Free

to have to bear the expense of their niece’s household and personal needs. King Henri as well, and while gifts from these gentlemen would be graciously accepted, wouldn’t ye prefer not to have to rely on those gentlemen entirely?
    “I am prepared to open my purse to the end that my queen might be maintained in the manner a queen should be maintained. My bankers in Paris, the House of Kira, will see that all of the queen’s expenses are paid promptly, quarterly, until the day she weds the dauphin. This would, of course, include her wedding finery and trousseau. I ask only that my part in this endeavor remain secret. The Fergusons of Duin are private people,” the laird said. “I do not wish to bring any attention to myself or to my clan.”
    Marie de Guise was at first speechless at the laird’s offer. Then, quickly recovering, she inquired of him shrewdly, “What is it you do wish then, my lord? Your offer is more than generous, but you speak to me like a Breton fisherman bargaining with a goodwife on the quay, Angus Ferguson. What will you have of me in return?”
    A brief flash of humor lit his handsome face, but it was quickly gone. “I want Duin created an earldom,” he answered her candidly.
    “You ask a great deal of Her Highness,” the priest sputtered, outraged for his lady.
    Marie de Guise, however, laughed, for she completely understood what the young man standing before her was requesting. “Nay, Père Michel, the laird requests virtually nothing of me. He does not wants lands, for he has them. Nor does he seek high office, for he prefers his anonymity. Gold he has in abundance, else he should not offer what he has. What he wishes is a title he may pass on to his heirs and the descendants following them. ’Tis nothing more than a piece of paper and a seal.”
    She looked at Angus Ferguson. “This will cost you dearly, my lord. Maintaining a queen, even a little one, and her entire household does not come cheaply. Remember that my daughter will reign over two great countries. She must be kept in a manner befitting her high station,” Marie de Guise said quietly.
    “And she will,” the laird promised. “She will be sustained royally. Let the French king and the powerful among the Scots lords accept credit for all of this. If you will allow me this great honor, madam, I will gladly accept it. All I ask in return is that Duin be created as an earldom in perpetuity.” He paused. “And perhaps yer permission to build a castle, a small castle, of course.”
    The dowager queen’s eyes twinkled. “Why is it that I suspect, my lord, that the castle, the little castle, already exists?”
    He shrugged in very Gallic fashion and smiled. “’Tis naught but a rather large house,” he explained, “though some might say otherwise, which is why I ask yer permission to have a castle. I cannot therefore be said to be in violation of the law. We Fergusons of Duin do not like drawing attention to ourselves.”
    “Yet will not your becoming the Earl of Duin raise questions among some?” the dowager queen asked him.
    “Not if it is believed that ye wished to balance the power in the west away from certain other families, and raised the Fergusons up with that in mind,” he answered her cleverly. “There are some who have taken yer favor and misused it, yet ye are still kind.”
    They both knew he spoke of Patrick Hepburn, the Earl of Bothwell, who had gained this interview for Angus Ferguson. Though it was known that the fair earl, as he was called, loved James V’s widowed queen, he was not always loyal to her or to Scotland. Still, he was a very fascinating man, and Marie de Guise had a weakness for him. She had never, however, allowed that weakness to rule her judgment or common sense.
    Her mind turned back to the matter at hand. “You are very clever, my lord of Duin,” she told Angus Ferguson. “Aye, it will please many if they think I am attempting to dull the Hepburn influence in the west. And