The King's Mistress Read Online Free Page A

loft. “Greer, pack as quickly as you can for both of us. I’ll saddle the horses.”
    In the kitchen, Genny removed a loose brick above their domed ingleneuk. She slipped her hand into her secret kist and pulled out the leather pouch containing all the coins she had in the world, the majority of which were only coppers and brass.
    Dear Lord, what she wouldn’t give for another day so she might barter the wool and grain she’d been hoarding. She counted the coins. There was barely enough for a single passage to Ireland and mayhap a year’s bed and board, should their aunt have fallen on hard times. Or be dead.
    “Gen?”
    She turned to find Greer standing in the doorway, two satchels at her feet. “What’s wrong?”
    Spinning her ring, Greer looked at the floor. “I want to go to England. We’ve not seen Auntie since we were bairns. She could be dead now, for all we ken.”
    “She’s not dead. The family would have sent word.” At least she hoped they would have.
    “But what if a missive has yet to reach us? We’ll be adrift in a land we know naught about.”
    “Greer, we know naught of England, either, and if MacKinnon is the man I suspect him to be, he’d cross the border without hesitation, then leave no stone unturned until he lays hands on what he came for. Namely, you.”
    Tired of the arguing, still upset that her sister obviously hadn’t missed her as much as she’d missed Greer, Genny grasped her twin by the arms. “Are you certain you told no one about me?”
    Shrinking back, Greer nodded like a woodpecker. “Aye, I’m certain.”
    “Very well, then.” She released her sister and blew out a puff of air. “We can make Langford by gloaming. From there, ’tis an easy road to Annan, from which you can take a ship to Dublin.”
    Genny marched toward the back door. Behind her, Greer shouted, “Wait! You said you’d come with me. You promised!”
    She’d always thought of Greer, who could memorize dances and mile-long ballads with ease, to be the brighter of the two of them but was now really beginning to wonder. “Aye, but that was before I learned we no longer had months to prepare but only hours .”
    “But what of you?”
    “I’m taking your place, Greer. I’m going with MacKinnon to Edinburgh.”
    “ What? But you can’t. You know nothing of court. You sound like a crow when you sing. You can’t dance.” She waved a frantic hand that took in Genny from head to foot. “And just look at you, Gen. You can don one of my gowns, but you’ll not be making a silk purse out of a sow’s—”
    “Ouch! Look here, mistress! I’m not the one who spread my legs like some common slut for a man I knew could never marry me, but I am the only one who can get you out of this appalling situation.”
    Her sister, blanching, staggered back as if slapped. “You call me a slut knowing we love each other?”
    “You love him? Prove it! Cease fighting me at every turn, and protect his babe by teaching me on the way to Annan all that I need to know to pass for you.”
    So I might survive long enough to bleed my courses before queen, God and country and prove beyond any doubt that you, dear sister, are not with child before running like a terrified hare for home.
    God help me.

  “ A lion is known by the scratch of his claw. ” ~ Old Scottish Proverb
    Chapter Four
    Kinghorn Castle
    “Scotland has to be the most miserable place on earth.”
    Yolande tugged her embroidered mantle close about her shuddering shoulders. Beyond her solar windows, an ashen sea churned beneath an equally dark and brooding sky.
    Why anyone fought over this godforsaken country, much less chose to live here, was beyond her understanding. Not when there were glorious, sun-drenched places like Nice and Marseille in which to live. Even Paris, with its raw, drizzling winters, was preferable to this desolate country, with no decent roadways, no palatable wine and too few glazed windows.
    She sighed. At least Kinghorn, the smallest