He was a strange man. On the one hand he treated her as an equal, and truly seemed to understand the conflicting feelings that raged through her. On the other hand he treated her like a slave. He was tender, thoughtful, wise, cruel, and didactic. He was hardly the average man, she knew. But then, she was hardly the average woman. In her early teens, she had resented Grandmam for forcing a match on her when she was too young to understand the importance of it. However, and she chuckled softly to herself, somehow that incredibly beautiful white-haired old lady had known. We are well suited, my lord, and I, thought Cat. We are damnably well suited! Satisfied, she turned over on her stomach and fell into a deep, contented sleep.
Chapter 12
THE picture was a charming domestic one. The dowager Countess of Glenkirk sat at her tapestry frame embroidering the wings on an angel. Her two-year-old grandson, Jamie, played before the fire under the watchful eye of Sally Kerr. Her son Adam sat going over the estate accounts. The earl was engaged in deep conversation with Master Benjamin Kira, his banker up from Edinburgh. Her two daughters, twenty-year-old Janet, who was married to the Sithean heir, and seventeen-year-old Mary, who would soon be wed to Greyhaven's eldest boy, sat sewing clothes for Janet's expected baby. Their men, Charles Leslie, and James Hay were all dicing in the corner.
Missing was the young Countess of Glenkirk and her cousin Fiona. They were, Meg knew, in Cat's apartment trying on the latest fashions Fiona had brought back from Paris. The younger Leslies had recently returned from a year of travel. They had been in Italy visiting Rome, and to the courts of Florence, and to Naples. They had been to Spain, to King Henri I’ll's court in Paris, and had spent a few weeks in England. Fiona could not stop talking about it all, and the more she talked, the more discontent grew in Cat.
Fiona, having seen all manner of wonderful things, couldn't resist bragging a bit. And, too, Cat had been penned at Glenkirk for over two years now with only a month's stay in Edinburgh late last winter.
Meg would not have told her son, but she knew that her beautiful daughter-in-law was using a method of birth control passed down from Mam. Cat wanted to see some of the world before she devoted herself to the raising of Leslies. Having raised six herself, Meg could not help but admire Cat.
Cat caressed the exquisitely scented lilac leather gloves Fiona had brought her from Italy. Her leaf-green eyes were narrow as she watched her husband get ready for bed. "I want to make a trip," she said.
"Yes, love," he replied absently. "We'll go to town again this winter if I can find the time." He looked up, startled as the gloves whizzed by his head.
"I do not want to go to Edinburgh, Patrick! Fiona has had a real trip to Italy, to Spain, to Paris, to England! She! The wife of a mere third son! I am the Countess of Glenkirk, and I've never been farther south than Edinburgh. I wouldn't have gotten even that far but for my own initiative."
"There is no need for ye to travel."
"There is every need! I want to!"
"I want sons, madame! So far ye've given me but one child."
"I'll bear no more bairns until ye gie me a trip!" she raged at him.
"That decision is not in yer hands, my dear," he said smugly.
"Isn't it?" she countered. "Ask yer mother, Patrick. Ask and see."
Curious, he spoke to Meg, who laughed softly and said, "So she's declared war on ye, eh, Patrick?"
"She canna stop the babes coming, can she?" His voice was anxious.
"She can and she has, my son."
"That's witchcraft!"
"Meg laughed again. "Oh, Patrick! Dinna be such a fool! There isn't a woman in this family who doesn't know certain secrets of beauty and health brought back from the East by Mam. I dinna blame Catriona. I was wed to yer father-may God keep him-when I was fifteen. You were born a year later, James and Adam at three-year intervals, Michael a year after Adam, and Janet the next year. I would never tell her, and you must not either, but your youngest sister, Mary, was an accident. I intended no more bairns after Janie. Do ye know that in the twenty-nine years I've been at Glenkirk I've never left it except to go to Sithean, or to Greyhaven? How I would have loved to have a trip somewhere… anywhere!"
It gave him pause. His own mother, who had so lovingly raised them, was discontented! Mary-an accident! And Cat was able to prevent children if she chose! He thought further. The little king was fourteen, and despite all the nonsense about a match between England's Queen Elizabeth and the French king's brother, Patrick was sure there would be no such marriage. Even if there were, a woman of forty-six was hardly apt to deliver a healthy child. In all likelihood, their own little king would one day rule both England and Scotland.
He wondered how long it would be before the two countries were one. When it happened, the capital would be in London, and Edinburgh would be left behind-a second-class city in the realm of the royal Stewarts, who were notoriously short of memory. It might even be necessary to five part of each year in England if his family, and their businesses, were to survive. He had talked that very evening to Benjamin Kira about the wisdom of moving some of their ships and a warehouse or two into London. Perhaps he would go to London to check it out. He could take Cat and his mother!
Before Patrick had come home to marry, he had paid a visit to Elizabeth's court and met the queen. She was a handsome female, but beneath the playful exterior was a cold, determined woman. She would have no man in her bed, for she would not share her power with anyone. Still, having made this choice, she resented women who threw themselves into their lover's arms.
Though he kept his feelings to himself, and would never allow his family to involve themselves, he resented the imprisonment of Mary Stewart. He had twice visited the court in Edinburgh while Mary reigned. She had been some years his senior. He had fallen in love, at ten, with the glorious Mary. Once she had spoken to him, acknowledging their distant cousinship through his mother. She was a charming and educated woman, and her choice of Darnley for a husband had been ludicrous. Though Lord Bothwell had been Mary's downfall, and Glenkirk didn't particularly like him, he would have been a far more suitable mate.
That Elizabeth envied Mary was obvious. The imprisonment of the Scots queen was cruel, and had been done, Patrick believed, on a whim. Therefore, he would only visit the English court. He could never live there, for he could not respect the Tudor queen.
He would put enough of his wealth in England so that when the time came that a Stewart king ruled the whole great land, from Lands End to the Highlands, he would be financially established. Then his family might go wherever they wished.
He said nothing to his wife or his mother, but closeted himself the next morning in his library with Benjamin Kira, and planned the purchase of two warehouses in London to house goods from half a dozen of his ships. It wouldn't be a great deal, but would be a start. Benjamin's London cousin, Eli Kira, would arrange everything.
Then he made arrangements with the Kiras for a trip to England. He debated the route and finally decided that the sea route was both quicker and safer at this time of year. A rider was dispatched immediately to Leith to arrange for the flagship of his fleet to sit off Peterhead awaiting them. Another rider was dispatched to Edinburgh to Master Kira's bank with instructions that a letter of unlimited credit be sent to their London branch for the earl. Conall More-Leslie and a troop of fifty men-at-arms were sent into England, and headed south to London to await their lord. Eli Kira rented a house for the earl in the most fashionable part of the city.
Adam Leslie was put in charge of both the Glenkirk estate and the Glenkirk heir. Patrick had no intention of exposing his only child to the dangers of travel. The boy would be safer with his doting nursemaids, in familiar surroundings. His arrangements completed, the earl announced one night at supper to his wife and his mother that they were going to England.
Cat's silver goblet crashed to the table. "What? Oh, my dear lord! Are we really going? When? God's nightshirt! I've nothing to wear!"
Meg Leslie smil
ed at her daughter-in-law and turned to her son. "Thank you, my dear, but I am much too old to travel," she said.
"Nay, madame. We want ye wi us."
"Yes! Yes! Belle-mere," begged Cat. "Ye must come! Yer hardly past forty, and that's nae too old to travel. Please say ye'll come!"
"I hae always wanted to see London," mused Meg.
"Then come!" Cat caught Meg's hands, and kneeling down, looked up into her mother-in-law's hazel eyes. "Come! Oh, what fun we'll have! The Globe Theatre! The Bear Gardens! Masques at court!" She turned anxiously to her husband. "We will go to court, Patrick?"
"Yes, my dear. I imagine I still hae a few friends there, and though I doubt her majesty will be wildly delighted to see two beautiful women arrive on her doorstep, the gentlemen of the court should be enchanted."
"Patrick!" Cat looked thoughtful. "What of Jamie?"
"We must leave him behind, sweetheart. I'll nae have him endangered."
Her face fell. "I canna leave my bairn behind, Patrick."
"He stays behind, Cat. Travel is dangerous." He looked at her. "And Jamie is our only child. Sally and Lucy are here to care for him, and Adam and Fiona will act as parents for us. We'll be gone but a few months."
It was too irresistible. "Jamie stays. I go," she said. She flung her arms about him. "Thank ye, Patrick!"
Despite her claims of a poor wardrobe, her trunks would have filled a wagon. Patrick put his foot down. "One trunk apiece. We'll buy what ye need in London. A new wardrobe for each of you." Cat and Meg looked gleefully at each other.
They reached Peterhead on an unusually balmy day. The Gallant James rode jauntily offshore. They were rowed out to the ship. Even being swung aboard in a boatswain's chair didn't faze Cat, though Meg was not delighted.
The journey south was surprisingly swift and smooth, and they suffered no seasickness. They didn't even encounter another vessel until they were about to enter the Thames and sail upriver to London. There they were hailed by another ship with a distinctly piratical look about it. Upon its quarterdeck stood a handsome young man with a beautifully kept mustache and beard.
Patrick laughed, excited. "Raleigh!" he shouted. "Raleigh! You pirate!"
The elegant on the quarterdeck peered across the small gulf separating their ships. "God's foot! Can it be? Glenkirk! Is it you?"
"Aye, you rebel! Come across, and have a glass of wine wi me."
A few minutes later the Englishman stood on the deck of the Gallant James wringing Patrick's hand.
"Have ye been to court yet?" asked the earl.
"Nay. I've not the money for it. I've been doing a bit of swashbuckling. The French ships are easy pickings. I'll be on my way to Ireland soon. Then perhaps, when I've some gold in my pocket and some decent accomplishments to my credit, I can present myself to the queen. I'm a simple West Country boy, Patrick. My only claim to fame thus far is to be the great-nephew of the queen's old governess, Kate Ashley, and the great-nephew also of Lady Denny. It's not really much to recommend one."
Patrick grinned. "Come on, you ambitious devil! I want you to meet my wife and my mother." He led the way to the great cabin in the stern of the ship. Knocking first, they walked into a beautifully furnished room with large windows looking out over the sea. Meg came forward. "Mother, this is Master Walter Raleigh." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Lady Denny's great-nephew."
Raleigh shot him a black look, then smiled brightly at Meg and bowed over her hand. "Your servant, ma'am."
"And," continued Patrick, bringing Cat forward, "this is my wife, Catriona, the Countess of Glenkirk."
Raleigh dropped Meg's hand, and stared. "Christ, man!" he exploded. "No one's wife looks like that! A mistress perhaps, but only if you're a king and very lucky. But never a wife!"
The Leslies laughed, and Cat, without so much as a blush, replied, "Alas, I must disillusion ye, Master Raleigh. I am indeed the Countess of Glenkirk, a wife- and a mother also."
Lingering over her hand, Raleigh sighed. "Having seen perfection, and being unable to attain it, I shall be forced to remain a bachelor, madame."
"Raleigh, yer a most charming rogue. I fear for the virtue of all the lasses in yer West Country." She gently freed her hand.
Both Cat and Meg listened eagerly to all Raleigh said. Although he had not yet been to court, he was full of its gossip, passed on to him by friends. He was able to fill them in on the latest fashions, for Raleigh was a bit of a fop, and quite vain.
After a pleasant interval, the captain advised that the tide would be turning shortly. Unless they got into the river now, they would be forced to ride at anchor for twelve hours. Raleigh, immediately stood up. Kissing the ladies' hands, he bid them all adieu. The earl escorted him onto the deck. He said he hoped to see him at court before they returned to Scotland. Soon, with the help of a good wind, the Gallant James slipped into the River Thames and headed upstream.
Chapter 13
THAT Elizabeth Tudor had observed her forty-seventh birthday was confirmed by her mirror. Still, she was queen. And although it was an open secret that she had no intention of marrying, suitors continued to arrive. She was perpetually surrounded by gallants whose clever tongues spun lovely compliments.
This is partly what made the Scots Earl of Glenkirk so enticing. He was handsome beyond decency. Most of her courtiers were mustached, and bearded, and scented. The earl was smooth-shaven, leaving bare his elegant jawline, and there was about him a clean, masculine scent that bespoke regular washing. He was tall, topping most men by several inches, well proportioned, with good skin and dark, wavy hair. Those green-gold eyes were fascinating. Above all, he was well educated. The queen detested ignorance. And he did not curry favor as the others did. He would never become one of her favorites, but his courteous coldness fascinated her. She had never forgotten him, though several years had passed since he had been to court.
He had been only Lord Patrick then, but now he was back, a full earl. He knelt and took the hand she graciously extended. But the green-gold eyes with a hint of amusement deep within them never left her face. "Majesty," he murmured. He rose to his feet.
Elizabeth was grateful she was seated on a raised dais, but even so they were almost at equal eye level. It was a distinct disadvantage to the queen, who preferred gazing down from lofty heights upon her adoring court. Her amber eyes narrowed, and she spoke.
"So, Scots rogue, you have finally returned."
"Yes, yer majesty."
"And what naughty things have you been doing while you were away from us?" Elizabeth smiled archly.
"I hae gotten married and fathered a son, madame."
Several of the younger courtiers snickered, assuming the earl had ruined himself.
"And how long have you been married, my lord?"
"Two years, yer majesty."
"And how old is your son?"
"Two years, yer majesty."
Elizabeth's eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth twitched. "God's foot, Glenkirk! Don't tell me you were caught by an outraged father?"
"No, madame. I had been betrothed to my wife since she was a child."
There was a story here, thought Elizabeth, but not for the ears of her gossipy court. Let them wonder. She stood up. "Come along, Glenkirk. I want to hear about this in private." Leaving the assembled court, the queen led the way into a small anteroom. "No ceremony, man! Sit down!" She seated herself and poured out two glasses of wine. "Now, Glenkirk," she said, handing him one of the glasses, "explain."
"Cat was four and I thirteen when the match was made. We were betrothed for eleven years."
"Cat?" said the queen.
Patrick smiled. "Catriona, yer majesty. 'Tis the Gaelic for Katherine."
"So," said Elizabeth impatiently, "but how is it that both your son and your marriage are two years of age?"
"There was a misunderstanding, and she ran away three days before the wedding."
The queen's eyes widened again. They began to twinkle. "You have yourself a head
strong wench, eh, my lord?"
"Aye, madame, I do. It took me almost a year to pin her down."
"You must have pinned her down sometime before that, Glenkirk, if she was carrying your babe."
Patrick laughed. "She hid first wi some devoted, pensioned servants, then up in the hills at a small house that had been her grandmother's. I found her there, and all might have been well, but-"
The queen cut in. "You committed some great blunder, I'll wager."
"Aye," he admitted, "and she was off again. She fled to Edinburgh, where my brother and his wife were about to set off to France. She cajoled Fiona into letting her stay in their house, unknown to Adam. Fiona agreed, thinking Cat would think things out and return shortly to me. When, at New Year's, she discovered Cat was still hiding in Edinburgh and the bairn was less than two months away, she informed me. My uncle and I went immediately to Edinburgh. After some discussion, Cat and I were reconciled and married by my uncle, the Abbot of Glenkirk Abbey."
"I'll wager she made it hard for you, Glenkirk," the queen chuckled.
"She did," he said.
"And when was your son born?"
"Approximately an hour after the wedding ceremony."
Elizabeth, sipping her wine, began to laugh. She laughed until the tears ran. Gasping, she choked on the wine and began to cough. Without thinking, Glenkirk stood up, leaned over, and clapped her on the back.
When the queen had finally caught her breath she said, "I hope you have brought your wild wench with you, my lord, for I should like to meet her."
"I have brought her, yer majesty, and I've also brought my mother, Lady Margaret Stewart Leslie. I hope ye'll receive them both."
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