The conversation as they traveled w

The conversation as they traveled was robust and often bawdy, with Vivienne and Robert each determined to provide the most scandalous anecdote.
“At least King James’s new bride has a sense of humor,” Robert told them, taking a bite from an apple he pulled from his pocket. “She was wooed by Henry of England, you know. But when he offered for her, she refused. ’Tis rumored she said, ’I may be a big woman, but I have a very slender neck.’”
The others laughed, yet Fiona put a hand to her throat. “Did King Henry truly chop the head from his last wife?”
Robert nodded and took another bite of apple. “He did. But she plotted treason against him and deserved such an ending.”
“It’s so brutal.” A cloud dimmed the sunshine as if in agreement.
“Aye, it’s brutal. But treason must be dealt with harsh and swift. If allowed to fester, it can infect an entire country, and no king will risk that.”
“Marietta told me of Janet Douglas,” Vivienne interrupted. “What punishment will King James bring down on her, do you imagine?”
“Janet Douglas?” The question popped before Fiona could think to bite her tongue, for Janet Douglas was the distant cousin with whom she thought to ask for refuge when running from the Campbells.
Myles answered, “There is talk she conspired with her brother Archibald Douglas to poison King James. Have you heard anything of that?”
Fiona’s blood frosted, though she’d answer with the truth. “What could I possibly know? I have not seen her since I was a child.” And that was true enough, but had she managed her escape, she’d be with the woman now. Suddenly, she was glad to have failed in that mission.
Her answer seemed to satisfy her husband, and Robert answered Vivienne’s question.
“I cannot think he’ll tolerate her disobedience. She can hope for prison, but I think he means to set an example of her. It’s hard to say. She’s his aunt, though only by marriage.”
The talk moved to other, more pleasant things, but the day had turned gray for a moment, and Fiona could not shake the sense that something evil tapped upon her shoulder.
Oban was a modest town, set upon the shore and dotted with buildings of every shape and size. There were alehouses, milliners, blacksmiths, dry goods stores, and various other establishments, each with colorful signs hanging from their doorways. People milled about the streets, stopping by market booths to buy fish and dried beans and bolts of cloth. The smell off the firth blended with that of roasting meat and too many people.
“Darkness will soon fall,” Myles said. “Let’s get some food and find a place to rest our heads.”
“’Tis early yet. The town’s just waking up,” Robert protested.
Myles nodded. “Aye, but my wife is near asleep in the saddle. See?”
She was, at that. For the last hour, she had struggled to keep herself upright and maintain some understanding of the conversation. Only entering the village had rallied her strength once more.
“I am fatigued, I must confess.”
“Why so sleepy, miss?” Vivienne murmured so that only she might hear. “Good reason, I hope, and not the product of a lumpy mattress.”
Fiona felt her cheeks grow hot and glanced around to ensure no one might hear. Robert and Myles seemed in a conversation over where to lodge, and the other men had scattered once they’d reached the edge of town.
She let her lips curl into a smile, her voice equally low as she answered, “The mattress was puffy as a cloud. But oh, what thunder and lightning.”
Vivienne’s laughter caught the attention of the men, and Myles’s lips twitched.
“Thank the heavens, Fiona,” Vivienne said, “I could not last another moment knowing you two were at odds. But given how your husband cannot keep his eyes off you, I fear you’re in for another sleepless night.”
Fiona would not mind so much, although she was powerfully hungry and just as tired.
Myles instructed his men-at-arms to find their own lodgings for the night, and then he arranged for three rooms at the largest inn for Robert, Vivienne, himself, and his wife.
“Tomorrow, we shall find you a fine horse, Fiona,” Myles said as they supped later over fragrant rabbit stew and crusty bread. They dined in the inn’s main room, along with Robert and Vivienne and a dozen others in Oban for one reason or another. The place was well-appointed, with cloths upon the tables and fresh rushes on the floor.
“There are two equally fine stables toward the north of town,” Robert added. “Though, for truly excellent horseflesh, you cannot beat the stables near Stirling.”
“I don’t care much for Stirling,” Vivienne said, dipping her bread into the gravy. “My dead husband had far too many mistresses in that hamlet.”
“I should not say as much, Vivienne, but I fear your husband had mistresses in every hamlet. He was more of a goat than a goat often is. I’m glad you’re rid of him,” Robert said.
“I suppose I am too. But I am in the mood for another husband.”
“To marry, or just to entertain?” Robert teased.
If Vivi was insulted, it did not show.