Her lips covered his face with little kisses that were more like delicious little nibbles as they moved lower. Her soft kisses scorched his chest, moving down to his flat belly and lower until her mouth found his manhood. Taking it in her warm mouth, she nursed on it as a babe would its mother's breast.
The king groaned and shivered. "Christ! Christ! Ahhhhh, you witch!" and he moaned his pleasure over and over as his body arched to meet her mouth.
When he was hard and ready for her, she released his organ and mounted him. His half-closed eyes were glazed with passion as he reached up to fondle her breasts, and Cat rode him smoothly until he poured his foaming seed into her body. His arms tightened about her, and he rolled her over onto her back and looked down at her. "Once," he said thickly, "I told ye I would nae be ridden like a maid, but… oh, Cat! I dinna know, my love! I dinna know! When ye come to me in the springtime ye will do again what ye have done tonight. Yea; my huntress, ye'll fuck me sweetly, won't ye?"
She said nothing, but instead she stroked his long back, cupping his round buttocks in her warm hands and gently kneading them. He quickly grew hot for her again, and with an almost pained sob of pleasure thrust deep into her. Finally exhausted, the king fell into a deep, relaxed sleep. He lay on his stomach, his face turned away from her, one arm thrown carelessly across her. For a long time she lay quietly on her back. Then, convinced of the depth of his slumber, she gingerly removed the offending arm and slipped from the bed.
Wrapping a light wool robe about her, she crawled into the windowseat and gazed sightlessly out into the night. Hot tears poured silently down her cheeks, and her body shook with muffled sobs. Again she had felt nothing, and she had performed like a whore in the Highgate. But worst of all was the fact that James hadn't known. He had eagerly accepted all she gave with no knowledge of her feelings, or of the deception she played. Patrick Leslie would have known, and Francis too-but then, they had truly loved her. The king, for all his fine words, merely lusted for her. Though he might not know it, what he really wanted was a highborn whore to service the hot desires which his dull Danish queen could not.
As the shock eased. Cat began to feel a burning anger. James had used her as he would a common trull, and she hated him with a fierce fury. She had been forced to soil herself in a way she would never forget. But in doing so she had gained the revenge she had planned so long ago. The memory of this night would live with him forever. It would burn in his dreams like a flaming brand, and he would wake with aching loins.
Smiling cruelly, she rose from the windowseat. Shrugging off the robe, she climbed back into the bed, snuggling down beneath the goosedown coverlet. The king still slept, snoring gently now. Propped on one elbow, she gazed down on him, and her lips formed words he never heard. "Goodbye, Jamie! May ye rot in Hell before I ever see ye again!"
Chapter 42
THE wedding guests departed the following day, leaving the families of the bride and groom alone to celebrate the holidays. It was the first time in many years that the Leslies and the Hays had gathered under one roof for Christmas through Twelfth Night.
It was a bittersweet time for Cat. She knew it was unlikely she would ever be with them all again. She savored each day, and her bitterness against James Stewart increased as she realized even more fully what his lust would cost her.
When he had left that morning he had bowed low over her hand, turning it so he might kiss the palm and the inside of her wrist. "Sensuous witch," he murmured low. "Ye drive me wild! Until spring, my love. Twill be the longest winter of my life."
Longer than ye think, ye rutting bastard, she thought, smiling sweetly up at him. "Until we meet again, Jamie hinny," she said softly.
"Farewell, madame," he said loudly for all to hear. "Our thanks for your magnificent hospitality!"
And he was no sooner across the drawbridge than she ran to her bedroom in the west tower. She tore the sheets from the bed and stuffed them into the fireplace, where they burned with a fierce whoosh of smoke and flame.
Astounded, Susan asked, "Could we nae have washed them clean, my lady?"
"There isn't enough water in the world to cleanse those sheets, my girl! Take the pillows and the featherbed to the linen room, and exchange them for fresh."
Cat picked up the exquisite nightgown she had worn and tossed it into the flames. Never again, she thought! Never again will I have to prostitute myself! Never!
"Get the hip bath from the garderobe," she commanded the two lads who brought in the day's supply of wood. "And then bring me enough hot water to fill it!"
She sat in the windowseat looking out over the tranquil black-and-white winter landscape. Behind her, two maids remade the bed with fresh linen. The tub was slowly filled with hot water, and then the room emptied but for her and Susan, who was pouring oil of wild-flowers into the steaming tub.
Cat rose and undressed. Naked, she surveyed herself in the pier glass. Her figure was still good although she was over thirty-her belly was still flat, her glorious breasts were firm, there wasn't an ounce of fat on her. She stepped into the tub and slid down into the hot water.
"Susan, bring the stool and sit near me," she said. "I would speak privately wi ye." The girl settled herself and looked trustingly into her mistress' face. "Tell me, child, do ye hae a special sweetheart?"
"Nay, madame. There are several lads who walk out wi me, but none I'd leg-shackle myself to for life."
"Do ye wish to marry, Susan?"
"I am nae looking, my lady. If the right man came along, perhaps. Me dad says I am like my great-grandma, with a wandering foot that 'twill get me into trouble one day."
Cat smiled. "Would ye like to travel?" she asked.
"Oh, aye, my lady!"
"Susan, what I say to ye now is a secret, and because ye are loyal to me I know ye will nae repeat it The king seeks to make me his mistress, and though there are some who would think it an honor, I do not. After Bess’ wedding I am leaving Scotland. I shall never be able to come home again, though ye may if ye wish. I want ye to come wi me."
"Do ye go to Lord Bothwell?" the girl asked bluntly.
Cat nodded.
"Good!’Tis where ye belong now. I'll go wi ye. Ye’ll need more than one to wait on ye. Will ye take my little sister wi ye? She's fourteen. Her name is May, and she admires ye something fierce. I've been training her, so she's no greenhorn."
Cat smiled again. "Thank ye, Susan. Aye, we'll take young May, but yer nae to tell her until the very last minute. Should the king even suspect that I flee…
Susan nodded wisely. The conversation finished, she rose to see to the warming of the towels. Cat took a soft brush and, standing, scrubbed herself down. Sliding back into the water, she said, "There, James Stewart! ’Tis the last of ye!"
"Amen!" said Susan, wrapping Cat in a fluffy towel as her mistress rose from the tub.
Cat laughed happily. "Why is it, Susan, that we get on so well, and ye've only been in my service a few years? Yer Aunt Ellen served me from the day I was born, and now gets on my nerves so!"
"‘Tis because she's been wi ye since ye were a babe, mistress.’Tis nae easy to take someone seriously when ye've changed their nappies. She's better wi young Lady Bess. Besides, she's too old to change her attitudes and go gallivanting about the world."
"Aye, my prim little Bess suits Ellie. Lord, Susan! In less than two months Bess will be a bride!"
"Aye, she's well settled. But what of the others?"
" 'Tis taken care of, and we'll speak no more of it."
Susan took the hint. After helping her mistress to dress, she went about her other duties.
Christmas at Glenkirk was celebrated quietly with a beautiful midnight mass in the church of Glenkirk Abbey. Afterwards the family descended to the candlelit burial vault beneath the castle chapel and decorated it with greens. The rosary was said, led by Charles Leslie, the abbot. When the family departed, Cat remained behind, sitting on a small marble bench. In the flickering candlelight and deep si
lence she gained strength. Her eyes moved from tomb to tomb until it reached a large brass plaque that read: "Patrick ian james Leslie, fourth earl of glenkirk. born august 8, 1552. died at sea april 1596. mourned by his beloved wife, catriona mairi, and their nine children. rest in peace."
She felt the tears prick at her eyelids. "Oh, Patrick," she whispered, "they say ye are dead, and I dinna believe it, though it goes against all logic. But dead or alive, I know ye'll ne'er return here, Patrick. Jamie is after me again, and I must flee or else bring dishonor to Glenkirk. I am going to Bothwell, and I know ye would understand."
She stood up and moved to her great-grandmother's tomb. "Well, ye great schemer," she said sofdy, "even in death ye got yer way. I wed yer precious Patrick, and hae given Glenkirk a new generation. But now I will hae my way, Mam!" And a prickle went up her spine as she detected a faint silvery laugh. Or did she? She walked to the staircase. Turning to look back, she smiled. "Farewell, my bonnie ancestors!"
On New Year's Eve the weather was clear and cold, and the sky shone with bright stars and a nearly full moon. A huge feast was held that night, and the pipers circled the table so many times that Cat thought her head would burst with the noise. A few minutes before midnight the family ascended to the battlements of the castle and stood in the cold to watch great bonfires flaring among the surrounding hillsides. Scotland welcomed the new year, 1598.
A lone Glenkirk piper played the softly haunting "Leslie's Lament." As the pipes sounded in the deep winter stillness, the music was echoed by Sithean's piper across the hills.
Cat could not stop the silent tears that slipped down her cheek. Luckily, they went unnoticed by all except Jemmie, who put a comforting arm about his mother. Later as they walked towards the great hall she flashed him a quick smile and said, "I hope yell be as intuitive of yer wife's feelings as ye are of yer mother's."
His eyes twinkled. "Ahh, madame, I am. I certainly ami"
Her laughter was warm. "What a dear rogue ye are, Jemmie. Yer father was as proud of ye as I am. I know he would be relieved that Glenkirk is in such good hands now."
He gave her a grateful smile and, taking her aside, said, "I hae a wonderful New Year's gift for ye. Let me gie it to ye now." And he pulled her down the corridor to the earl's apartments. Sitting her down in a chair in the antechamber, he rushed into his bedroom. He returned a minute later with a flat red leather box.
For a moment she looked at the unopened box in her lap. Whatever was in it was of great value, she was certain. It was the first valuable thing he had ever given her. Another proof, she pondered sadly, that his father was gone. Shaking off the unhappy thought, she opened the box, and gasped. Nestled in black velvet lining was the most beautiful pendant Cat had ever seen. Circular, part of it was fashioned in a quarter-moon shape and the rest was a crisscross of openwork studded with tiny diamonds, and hung with tiny tinkling bells.
"Jemmie! Jemmie!" She lifted it out, admiring the exquisitely delicate chain.
" 'Tis a copy of one that Mam owned."
"I never saw Mam wear anything like this, and 'tis neither wi the Glenkirk or the Sithean jewels," remarked Cat.
"Yer right, mother. She left it behind when she returned from Istanbul. Father told me. In her apartments in the palace there was a wall of tile in the bedroom-by the fireplace, I believe. There was one tile with a thistle pattern. She had the wall behind it hollowed out, and lined in a fine wood. 'Twas there she kept her jewels safe. On the night she left, the pendant was overlooked in her haste. It had been lying towards the back. Mam told father that she always regretted the loss. The sultan had made it for her to celebrate the birth of their first son, Sultan Suleiman. 'Tis probably still there."
"But how did ye know what the pendant looked like if ye never saw it?"
"Mam described it in detail to father several times. He described it to me. He often said ye were like her- proud and willful, yet wise."
"Thank ye, Jemmie."
Suddenly he was a boy again. "I wanted ye to hae something to remember me by!" he said, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he fought to keep it under control.
"Why, my darling," she said catching his face between her hands, "I will nae forget ye! Yer my firstborn, and we share more than ye realize. When ye were but a wee little fish swimming about in my womb, I used to talk to ye. Ye were my strength."
He laughed. "What did ye speak on, mother?"
"All sorts of foolish things, Jemmie," and she paused a moment. "Ye'll nae be able to come for a few years, but once Jamie has forgotten me, ye and Belle can come to visit us."
He looked at her sadly and said softly, but very distinctly, "Damn James Stewart to a fiery hell!" And turning on his heel, he left the room.
Cat closed the jewel case with a click. "Ye echo my own sentiments, my son," she said, and followed him from the room.
The day following the Feast of Twelfth Night the young Earl and Countess of Glenkirk left for court, accompanied by the bride's parents. The rest of the guests dispersed in their various directions. In four and a half weeks Cat's daughter would wed, and then Cat would be free to go on her way.
There had always been a tension between mother and daughter because of Lord Bothwell. Not knowing her parents' problems, Bess, her father's favorite, had automatically taken his part. But Bess was now in love with her prospective husband. It was having a softening effect on the girl. Cat debated telling Bess that she would soon be leaving Scotland.
It was Bess, however, who spoke to her. A week before the wedding she came to her mother and said, "Once ye told me that when I fell in love I should understand how ye felt about Lord Bothwell. I returned ye a snide answer, mother. But now I understand… I truly do! Why do ye stay in Scotland? When the king was here at Christmas he looked at ye in a way that frightened me. Ye must find Uncle Francis, mother, and go to him. Only then will ye be safe!"
Cat hugged her daughter. "Thank ye, Bess. I will go now wi a lighter heart knowing ye really understand."
Bess' eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but Cat gently covered the girl's mouth with her hand. "Jemmie will speak of it wi ye one day, love."
"Yes, mother, I understand," said Bess, smiling at her.
What a pity, thought Cat, that we have become friends now that I must leave her.
The wedding of Bess Leslie and Henry Gordon was a quiet one compared to the previous wedding. Only the family attended. Jemmie and a sparkling Isabelle returned for the festivities, and two days later escorted the newlyweds back to Edinburgh for the winter season at court. Before they left, both Bess and Jemmie came to say a private farewell to their mother.
Jemmie was tall and looked so painfully like his father at that age that tears sprang up in Cat's eyes. Bess, so radiantly happy, was a dark-haired mixture of both her parents. "I want ye to know," said Cat softly, "that I love ye both well. How I shall miss ye!"
They both clung to her, and Bess began to weep. "Nay, hinny," scolded Cat, gently stroking her daughter's hair. "If the new bride is sad, the king may find me out. Be strong, my daughter, and help me win this battle that I fight wi Jamie. He must not suspect that any of ye knew."
Bess mastered herself. "The others?" she asked.
"I'll speak wi them, but nae the bairns. I know 'tis a great burden I put on ye, but please, Bess, and ye also, Jemmie, look after them for me. Later, when it is safe, ye may all come to visit wi me. But now I must travel quickly. Ye understand that?"
They nodded, and she kissed them each in turn. Leading them to the door, she saw them out. Later on that day she stood on the top step of the castle's main entrance, waving gaily and calling loudly for all ears to hear, "I will see ye in the spring, my dears! Gie my loving regards to his majesty!" She stayed there waving until they were out of sight before retiring to her tower to weep in private.
The following day would see her two younger sons, fourteen-year-old Colin and twelve-and-a-half-year-old Robert, on their way. Colin was going to the University of Ab
erdeen, and Robert back to his duties as a page with the Earl of Rothes’ household. That night she drew her four older children about her and told them that she would be leaving Glenkirk, and why. She had worried about disappearing from their lives without explanation and had decided that telling them was worth the risk. Her judgment was vindicated when her nine-year-old daughter, Morag, said quietly, "I am glad ye go, mother. I dinna like the king." Ten-year-old Amanda nodded in agreement. "Aye, Dinna worry for us, mother. Besides, ye've seen to our futures rather well. I shall enjoy being Countess of Sithean."
Cat couldn't help but laugh. "Yer such a practical little puss," she told her daughter.
"When?" asked Robbie.
"Soon."
Colin began to chuckle.
"What is so funny?" his mother asked him.
"I'm sorry I'm nae still wi Rothes," said the boy-man. "I'd enjoy seeing Cousin James' face-the sanctimonious lecher!"
"Thank God yer not wi Rothes!" said Cat. "Ye'd gie me away for sure." But she laughed. "Conall said almost the same thing," she told them, and the girls and Robbie joined in the mirth.
The following morning the boys were gone, and for the next few days Cat was dejected. She spent a good deal of time in the nursery playing with her three babies. Then one evening she appeared unexpected in her mother-in-law's bedchamber. Meg understood instantly. Wordlessly, she rose and hugged Cat to her.
"So soon?”
Cat nodded. "‘Tis dark of the moon, and there is no better time for me to go unnoticed. If I stay any longer I will nae be able to go, Meg. It tears at me even now!"
"Then God go wi ye, my daughter."
"Oh, Meg! Ye were always closer to me than my own mother. I shall miss ye so much! Try to explain to my parents, Meg."
Love Wild and Fair Page 35
