hope of ruling Scotland in her young son's name. Their marriage, however, had given the council the excuse they needed to take the regency - and the royal children - from the queen, whose brother was Scotland's greatest enemy, Henry VIII of England.
When the council called John Stewart, the Duke of Albany, home from France to be the new regent, there were rumors that the queen planned to abscond with the Scottish heir to England. If that was her intent, she did not act quickly enough. Albany arrived and persuaded her to hand over the royal children by laying siege to Stirling Castle.
"I'm surprised to see the Douglas here," Connor said. "Last I heard, the queen had fled to England, and her husband was lying low at his estates, hoping to avoid a charge of treason."
"The Douglas has made peace with Albany." Philippa gave Connor a mischievous look over her fan. "I fear he will find it far more difficult to reconcile with his wife, though I would never count the Douglas out."
"Why?" Connor asked.
"He's taken up with a former lover and is living openly with the woman on the queen's money." Philippa leaned closer, giving Connor a waft of delicate perfume and what he guessed was an intentional look down the front of her bodice. "I've heard a whisper that Albany will return to France soon and that the queen intends to cross into Scotland the moment he sets foot on the ship. Life at court should be interesting."
With a young child on the throne, the factional fighting was unending. The queen had made a bad situation worse, however, by allowing herself to be blinded by passion and marrying foolishly.
"The rest of us can't change spouses whenever we wish, as you Highlanders do," Philippa said with a smile. "Whether the queen likes it or not, the Douglas remains her husband, and he may rule in his stepson's name yet - which is why I suggest you consider wedding a Douglas."
Connor could not make himself consider a match with either the Douglases or the Campbells. They always had their eyes on other clans' lands and viewed marriage alliances as one more means to acquire them, even if they had to wait a generation.
Which other treacherous chieftains should he consider? As if in answer to his question, he saw his host, the MacIain, coming toward him through the crowd.
"I hear John MacIain has a granddaughter of an age to wed," Philippa whispered, touching his arm again. "I'll leave you to your business."
* * *
"Ye should have a wife by now," John MacIain said after they had exchanged the usual greetings and traded opinions on how much longer the rebellion would last.
When the MacIain put a hand on Connor's shoulder, Connor forced himself not to remove it by thinking of MacIain's hundreds of well-trained warriors.
Connor needed those warriors.
"At eight and twenty," MacIain continued, "I had two strong sons and three daughters."
"You were fortunate in your choice of wife," Connor said, more because MacIain's wife was a Campbell than because of the number of children she gave him.
An additional benefit of wedding MacIain's granddaughter was that it would give Connor a connection to the Campbells without actually having to marry one.
Moira cut their conversation short when she appeared through the crowd, leaving every man she passed staring after her.
"How is my favorite sister?" Connor said and kissed her cheek.
"Is that smoke I smell?" Moira gave a delicate sniff.
Connor closed his eyes at her reference to the recent burning of MacIain's castle.
"I'll leave ye to your charming sister," MacIain said. "We'll speak again later."
"Moira!" Connor chastised her after MacIain stalked off. Though Connor was chieftain, he did not fool himself that he could control his sister. He wished Duncan good luck with that.
"I had to do something to get rid of him," Moira said, giving MacIain's back a sour look. "What were ye discussing with that devil before I rescued you?"
"Clan business," he said. "Where's Duncan?"
"Ye know how he hates crowds," she said. "He's gone back to the camp."
"Tell me the news from Dunscaith." Connor hoped she would mention Ilysa without his having to ask. When she failed to, he had a sneaking suspicion it was intentional. Finally, he gave up. "How is Ilysa?"
"Why, do ye have an apology to make?" Moira asked, narrowing her violet eyes at him.
"Did Ilysa say something to make ye believe I do?" Connor asked.
"I couldn't pry it out of her - Ilysa is far too loyal to say