A few minutes later, Benjamin Kira handed the parchment to a messenger. "Take this to Lady Leslie at Hermitage Castle," he said. "And be sure you are not followed."
Cat did not want to see her husband, but Bothwell insisted. "Ye carina be certain in yer own mind that ye no longer love him unless ye can look him in the eye and tell him so. Ye can meet him at Kira's house. Stay wi yer cousin. Fiona. I shall go to Edinburgh too. I hae been meaning to do something about these stupid charges that I practice witchcraft against the king. Now is a good time. Too, since Margaret has agreed to gie me a divorce, there must be papers to sign."
"Do ye think Jamie knows about us?" she asked him.
"Nay. No one does except Home. We will ride to town secretly. Hercules can go wi us, and when we reach Edinburgh he will escort ye as far as yer cousin's house."
"What if I need ye, Francis?"
"I'll know if ye do, my darling. Dinna fear. We will complete our separate business quickly, and be safe back at Hermitage before ye know it."
So they rode to Edinburgh and parted. Fiona Leslie was delighted to see her cousin, and consumed with curiosity.
"Promise me," said Cat. "Promise me, Fiona, that ye'll nae tell Patrick I am here. He stays at Glenkirk House, and I hae nowhere else to go if ye will not shelter me."
"I would promise ye, Cat, but Adam is sure to tell him."
When her brother-in-law arrived home. Cat confronted him. "If ye tell Patrick I am here, I'll tell him ye advised me to sleep wi the king," she threatened.
"I hae already told him," said Adam, rubbing his jaw in remembrance.
"And did ye tell him ye offered me to Jamie when Jamie actually sought yer own wife?"
"That's nae true!" roared Adam.
"No, 'tis not. but I will tell Glenkirk that it is, and Fiona will back me up. won't ye, cousin?"
"Aye," said Fiona blandly, her smoky-gray eyes twinkling at her husband.
Adam Leslie flung up his hands. "All right, ye two bitches! Ye win. Ye hae yer refuge. Cat. When Glenkirk hears, I likely as not will receive another crack on my jaw."
Cat put her hand on her brother-in-law's arm. "Sit down, Adam. Ye too, Fiona. I would speak seriously wi ye both." They sat. Looking at Fiona, Cat said, "By now Adam has probably told ye that James forced me into his bed for a time." Fiona nodded, and Cat continued. "When Glenkirk found the king wi me, he was furious. What he did to me I will never speak of again. I hae now asked him for a divorce, and he will nae gie his consent unless I speak wi him face to face. I hae come to Edinburgh to do just that."
"Where hae ye been these last months?" asked Fiona.
Cat smiled. "I'll nae tell ye that, cousin."
Adam Leslie grunted and got up to pour himself some wine. If she wouldn't tell, she wouldn't tell. But Fiona had understood the softness in her cousin's voice, and thought with amazement, My God! She's in love! She is in love wi another man!
Fiona was desperate to learn the identity of Cat's lover, but she could think of no man that Cat had ever been friendly with outside the family. She was determined to find out somehow, however. Seeing Fiona's grim look, Cat laughed. "I'll tell ye eventually, Fiona, but not now." Caught, Fiona laughed back. "Ye always were the deep one," she returned.
On the following day a messenger was sent to the Kiras. The Countess of Glenkirk would arrive at their house to meet with her husband at one o'clock in the afternoon if the Kiras would send word to the earl informing him of the meeting.
Glenkirk arrived promptly. He was anxious to see Cat, sure that when he explained and apologized, their estrangement would be over. He had taken great pains with his appearance. A young maidservant ushered him into the room where Cat waited and then left, closing the door behind her.
The Countess of Glenkirk wore a high-necked deep-blue silk dress with ecru-colored lace cuffs. Her dark-honey-colored hair was braided and twisted into a severe knot on the nape of her neck. It was Cat, and yet somehow she looked different. "Patrick." Her voice was cool, and there was no welcome in it.
He rushed forward, stopping suddenly at the sight of the jeweled dirk in her hand.
"Touch me, and I use it," she said. "On you!"
"Sweetheart, please!" he pleaded. "Yer my wife, and I love ye." This was not going right
She laughed bitterly. "Ye didna feel so strongly two and a half months ago when ye and the king spent the night raping me! My God, Glenkirk! I was yer good and faithful wife for thirteen years! I never once gave ye cause for doubt. Yet the moment ye found me in the king's arms ye assumed me the guilty one, simply because I was a woman. Are men never the guilty ones?"
His voice shaking, he slipped to his knees and caught at the hem of her dress. "Cat! Cat! Will ye ever forgie me? When I awoke the next morning and remembered all that had past-Christ! Ye couldna have hated me any more than I hated myself. Can ye nae forgive me, hinny?"
"No, Patrick! I will never forgie ye for what ye did to me! Do ye know what it was like for me? Do ye know what it was like having to allow another man possession of my body? For a man, lovemaking is a physical thing. He hungers for a woman, but once he has had her the feeling dies. But for a woman, love-making is an emotional experience. Her passion for a man is alive before, during, and even after the act of love. James made me feel like a whore. He used my body, and it responded because ye had taught me to respond, but I felt nothing for him but hate. Every time he pushed himself into me I hated him, and I prayed ye would never know my shame, for I couldna bear to hurt ye. If only ye had felt the same tenderness for me, Patrick, I could forgie ye now. But when ye caught me wi the king, ye punished me when ye should have defended me. No, my lord of Glenkirk! I will nae forgie ye!"
He stood, and looked down on her. "What of the children?"
"I want my girls," she said. "Jamie and Colin are already wi Rothes, and Robbie will go next year. Ye may keep the children until the divorce is settled. After that-I want them. Ye may see them at any time ye want. They are all Leslies of Glenkirk and I would nae have them forget it. Nor would I have them hate their father, Patrick. What has happened between us is not the concern of our bairns."
"Ye are generous, madame," he said sardonically. "And now that we hae settled that perhaps ye would satisfy my curiosity, and tell me where ye hae been hiding all this time?"
"Nay. I will not tell ye, Patrick. Ye forfeited yer right to any control of my life on that night in February." Reaching for the bellpull on the wall, she yanked it and told the little maid, "Please see my horse is brought around." Cat turned once again to Patrick Leslie. "Farewell, my lord," she nodded coldly, and left him.
He was stunned. He could hardly believe what had taken place. He had lost her. There had been no love at all in the beautiful leaf-green eyes that had always lit with joy at the sight of him. He had willfully destroyed that Catriona Leslie, and the woman who bad risen phoenixlike from the wreckage was not his woman, nor was she ever likely to be. Sitting down, he put his head in his hands and wept. Several minutes later he left the Kira household and spent the rest of the day and the night that followed it getting very drunk.
Chapter 27
WHEN Francis Stewart Hepburn surrendered himself to his cousin, James panicked. Quickly he imprisoned the earl in Edinburgh Castle. The king, an overly superstitious man, was terribly frightened of witchcraft. Chancellor Maitland knew this and, in an attempt to break the back of Scotland's nobility, had fabricated the charges against Bothwell. Breaking the border lord, he thought, would crush all resistance to James. Unfortunately, the earl's fellow nobles were most irritated by Maitland's attempt to destroy their power. They refused to meet to try Hepburn. Until they did, justice was at a standstill because no one else could try him.
Cat was terrified by the news that Bothwell was locked in Edinburgh Castle. There was nothing she could do. She could not even communicate with her lover for fear of the king, and she had no idea how to reach Hercules. So she remained quietly with Fiona, awaiting word. She would not leave Edinburgh w
ithout Francis.
It was not long before she received a message from the loyal Hercules. She was to come, masked, to the Oak and Thistle Tavern the following afternoon, and ask for Mr. Prior. Cat was in a fever of impatience.
At two the next afternoon she slipped from the house and walked quickly through the June afternoon. It was raining slightly, which was to the good as few people were on the streets to see her. Entering the tavern, she inquired for Mr. Prior, and was shown a private parlor in the back of the building on the ground floor. There was Hercules.
She barely allowed time for the maidservant's exit before asking, "Francis?"
"Enormously comfortable in a large, well-furnished two-room apartment," said Bothwell's half-brother. "Eating and drinking the best that money can buy. A favorite with his captors, but beginning to be bored by Jamie's shilly-shallying."
"What do ye want me to do?" she cried.
"Francis has decided that too much more of the king's hospitality could kill him," chuckled Hercules. "So he'll be leaving Edinburgh shortly. Can ye hide him for a few hours? A day at most?"
"Aye! At my cousin Fiona's. Ye know the house. My brother-in-law, Adam, leaves tomorrow for Glenkirk. He'll be gone about two weeks, but no more. Can Francis escape within that time?"
Hercules Stewart nodded. "Within the week, my lady."
"I'll be ready. Is there some signal ye can gie me so I'll know when?"
"A boy will deliver a bunch of wild red roses and white heather to ye. 'Twill be that night." He poured out some red wine and handed her a goblet. "Drink it, madame. Ye look worn."
She smiled at him and accepted the wine. "I hae been so worried," she admitted. "I knew nothing but what the gossips in the marketplace said, and I didna dare inquire too closely."
Hercules looked at her. "How did that rogue of a brother of mine do it? How did he get the loveliest and bravest woman in this wild land to fall in love wi him?" He gave her a grin so like Bothwell's that her heart turned over. "He's always been lucky, the devil!"
She couldn't help but laugh. "I am the one who's lucky, Hercules. He is a great man, my Francis." She picked up her cloak from the settle. "I had best go now. I'll be waiting for yer signal."
The following day, Adam Leslie left Edinburgh, leaving his wife and Cat alone in the house. Almost immediately Fiona was at her younger cousin, demanding to know the name of Cat's lover. Cat laughed. "Not yet, Ona, but in a few days ye will not only know his name, but ye'll meet him." Fiona gnashed her teeth in frustration.
Two afternoons later an urchin knocked at the door of Fiona's house. Handing the maid a bouquet of white heather and wild red roses, he said, "Fer the lady o' Glenkirk." Exclaiming her delight, the little maid put the bouquet in a silver bowl and brought it to the Countess. Fiona raised an elegant eyebrow. "Charming," she said. "Does this mean I am to meet the gentleman soon?"
"Tonight," replied Cat "Can ye get rid of the servants?"
"It's been done. Darling Cat, 'tis Midsummer Eve, and everyone will be celebrating."
"Damn!" swore Cat. "I should hae guessed! Fiona, tell yer servants that they may hae tomorrow off as well. Please do this for me. My lord will nae wish to be seen by other than you and me."
Fiona agreed. 'They'll all be suffering the effects of too much ale, wine, and lovemaking, and be no use to me anyway. Oh, cousin! I am fascinated! Who is this man?"
"Bothwell," said Cat softly.
"But he's in prison!" said Fiona, and then her smoky-gray eyes widened and she clapped her hands over her mouth.
Cat had to laugh, but Fiona recovered quickly. "Ye really are the deep one! Are ye telling me that Francis Hepburn is the man? Ye hae been wi him since ye ran away from Glenkirk? He is yer lover?" Cat nodded. "Damn me!" said Fiona. "Ye really hae all the luck! First Glenkirk, and then the border lord himself!" Her eyes glittered. "What is he like?" she begged. "Is he really a warlock? Does he make love like mortal men?"
Cat choked back a fit of giggles, for she could see that Fiona was quite serious. "Nay, cousin. Francis is no warlock or wizard, and he makes love very nicely, thank ye."
"How did ye meet him, Cat?"
"At court. He was my friend then, not my lover."
"He has a wife, Cat."
"He is divorcing her as I am divorcing Glenkirk. We'll be wed by year's end, Fiona."
"Does Glenkirk know about Bothwell? Does the King?"
"Nay. Neither of them does. Say nothing, Fiona. I would rather no one know until Francis and I are safely wed."
"What should we do to prepare?" asked Fiona.
"Food, cousin! Francis eats ravenously when he's elated, and outfoxing both Jamie and Maitland will make him jubilant."
That evening, the servants gone, Catriona Leslie and her cousin Fiona waited. Cat assumed that Bothwell would not escape until late, when festivities were well underway. She was right. It was close to midnight when there came a knock at the kitchen door. Cat flew to open it, and two muffled figures slipped quickly into the room.
Flinging his cloak off, Francis Hepburn grinned impudently at Cat. "Good evening, my darling," he said.
Tears glistened in her eyes as Cat stepped forward. "Oh, Bothwell!" Suddenly she stopped. "Christ in heaven! What is that stink?"
He grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid my mode of conveyance from the castle was not at all elegant."
"What was it?" she demanded.
He hesitated. "A dung cart."
She stared at him. "A dung cart?"
"It had a false bottom," he explained. "I hid there, while above me rested the contents of the entire castle stables."
Cat looked directly at Hercules Stewart. "There's a tub in the closet there," she said. "Please get it out and fill it with hot water for his lordship." She instructed the wide-eyed Fiona, "Get some of Adam's clothes and put them in my room. Bring a dressing gown here."
Hercules pulled out the hip bath while Cat began to heat water. When the tub was filled she took Bothwell's clothes from him and flung them into the fire. Before she would allow him to climb into his bath she led him naked into the scullery and sluiced him down. Once he was in the tub she scrubbed him down with a stiff brush and washed his hair. "Thank God, no lice," was her only comment. Bothwell chuckled as he climbed from the tub at last and wrapped himself in a large towel.
She sat him by the fire to dry his hair. Fiona re= turned with a long, soft robe of lightweight wooL which Bothwell quickly slipped on. Then he caught Fiona's hand and brought it to his lips. "Lady Leslie." He spoke in a low, intimate voice that brought a blush to her cheek and caused her heart to beat fast "I thank ye for yer hospitality. I hope I'll not inconvenience ye in any way."
" 'T-'tis an honor to hae ye in my house," stammered Fiona. "When yer ready we've a supper in the small dining room."
"Ye’ll join us, of course," said Bothwell, offering his arm to Fiona.
They had set on the sideboard a small meal of boiled shrimp, ham, ribs of nearly raw beef, roasted capon, a salad of cress and dandelion greens, hot bread, sweet butter, and fresh fruit. There were brown ale, red and white wines, and whisky. Cat watched indulgently, barely nibbling as the earl stuffed himself. Sated at last, he sat back and sipped a glass of whisky.
She had sat next to him so she might serve him. Fiona was at the opposite end of the table with Hercules. Pushing back his chair, Bothwell said softly to her, "Come sit on my lap, my darling." Cat settled herself comfortably. "Did ye miss me?" he asked gently.
"Aye," she whispered. "I was so frightened."
His mouth found her eager one and he kissed her passionately, feeling her lovely body come alive beneath his caresses. "Christ, I've missed ye," he muttered into her neck. "I had the money for whores, but I took nae a single one. I stayed true to ye, my darling, and I have nae done that before for any woman." Her hands caught his and pressed them against her taut breasts. He felt the little nipples hard against his palms. He rose, cradling her in his arms. "I am sorry, my darling, but I canna wait tonight," he
said.
"Neither can I, Bothwell," she answered him softly. "Take me to bed. I burn for ye!" He complied willingly, walking from the room with his beautiful burden.
Fiona had watched the entire scene, fascinated. She could not hear what they said, but the open desire between her cousin and Francis Hepburn was stunning. Her own breath quickened, her lovely breasts became swollen, her full lips were moist. Guiltily, she looked up to see Hercules smiling a slow lazy smile at her. She blushed to the roots of her auburn hair, thinking, He's going to seduce me, and dear heaven, I am going to let him!
She tried to think of Adam and found to her horror that she could not even recall his face. Fiona stood up quickly and fled to the windows that opened on her gardens. She could smell the heady perfume of the damask roses, and silently cursed the fact that everything in the world seemed to be conspiring against her own sensuality. The air was charged with the passion created by Bothwell and Cat. Fiona was terrified by her mood, but at the same time she was elated.
Hercules was behind her now, putting an arm about her waist and drawing her back against him. He kissed her soft, bare shoulder, and then his fingers began to undo the bodice of her gown. Turning her about to face him, he pushed the gown from her shoulders and bent to kiss her lush, red mouth. Forcing her lips apart, his tongue ravished her mouth. For all her experience, Fiona nearly swooned. She made a token resistance, freeing herself to look up at him. "Sir," she protested weakly, "I hae never been unfaithful to Leslie before."
"How very admirable of ye, madame," he drawled. "Where is yer bedchamber?"
"Upstairs to the left." Fiona realized suddenly that the time for protest was long past. He picked her up as if she were a child, and carried her to her bed. As they moved up the stairs she suppressed a giggle. Why? thought Fiona Leslie. Why do I always end up wi the brother?
In the gray half-light of Midsummer Eve, Francis Hepburn made passionate love to Catriona Leslie until they fell asleep, exhausted. She woke at dawn to find him awake, watching her. Reaching up, she drew his head down to her breasts and cradled it there. "Ye'll incinerate me wi that look, my love," she whispered.
Love Wild and Fair Page 21
