"Father!" The young man's face was a "study in shock. "My God, father! Ye were dead! They said yer ship never reached its destination."
"Explanations in a minute, Jemmie, but first tell me of yer mother, and of mine."
Oh, lord, thought Jemmie. Bad news in both quarters for him. He sighed and began. "Grandmother Meg died this past winter. 'Twas an easy death, for she was nae ill. She simply went to sleep one night, and did nae wake again."
"Damn!" said Patrick Leslie softly. "If I'd only come a little sooner." Then he demanded, "And yer mother? What of my wife?"
James Leslie hesitated again. Then, as there was nothing for it but to tell the truth, he answered, "Mother is gone, father."
"Gone?" He stopped suddenly, then said, "Ah, yes, of course. The king would nae wait long before claiming her, would he? Is she at court? Is she happy?"
"She is in Italy, father. She is Lord Bothwell's wife. They share exile together."
"The treacherous bitch! How long did she wait before endangering the family and running off to her lover?"
"Dinna ever speak of her in that tone to me again," Patrick heard his son snarl, and looking closely at the young man he was surprised. "She was devastated when Uncle Adam brought word that yer ship was lost. She held herself completely responsible for yer 'death,' and would probably have remained here at Glenkirk mourning ye the rest of her life, but for the king. Yer right- the moment he heard ye were lost, he declared ye legally dead, and me the fifth earl. I was ordered to wed immediately in order to preserve the Glenkirk succession. Mother was told she had till spring to mourn. Then she was expected to return to court-and the king's bed.
"She would hae done it, too, but for me. The king did not know that I knew of what had gone on between him, ye, Lord Bothwell, and mother. Therefore, I could also not be expected to know of his threats against us. I supported him loudly and publicly, appearing to push mother at him. When he came to my wedding he spent his days hunting deer and his nights in mother's bed.
"I can assure ye I seemed most angry and highly offended when she fled her royal master. I even went so far as to write a letter to her, demanding that she return. I took the chance that James would nae revenge himself on me, as I was supposed to be ignorant of the whole drama. And I won, father! I won!"
"Jesu, Jemmie!" There was admiration in Patrick Leslie's voice. "Yer a cool one!"
"I planned every detail of mother's escape myself," said Jemmie proudly. "Susan and her younger sister went with her. So did Conall, and about fifty young Glenkirk men who were looking for adventure."
"Is she happy, Jemmie?"
James Leslie's eyes softened for a moment. Looking at his father, he thought: You fool-to have lost her! "Aye," he answered simply. "She is very happy."
Patrick Leslie sighed. "I should hae let her go wi Francis when he was exiled, but the king was determined that if he could nae have her, then neither could his great rival, Bothwell. It almost broke her heart, and I know but for the bairn she carried she would hae died." For a moment he was quiet, lost in his memories, and then he asked, "My bairns?"
James smiled. "Mother made provisions for us all before she left. I wed Bella Gordon, as ye had both arranged. Bess was wed to Bella's brother, Henry. I hae two lads, and Bess a lad and a lass. My uncle of Grey-haven's son died, and mother arranged wi her brother that Colin wed wi his eldest girl, and become the next Master of Greyhaven. Robbie will be wed wi the youngest Greyhaven girl at the same time. Mother settled an income and a manor on him so he would be independent. Amanda's to be the next Countess of Sithean. She'll be married in December. And wee Morag goes to Hundey's youngest son, Malcolm, wi a fine big dowry including her own house."
Patrick nodded. "She did well by the older bairns, Jemmie. What of the little ones?"
"When it was safe, and James Stewart had decided to forget, I sent them to their Darents."
For a moment Patrick Leslie was silent. Then he said, "Are ye telling me that Ian and Jane were nae my bairns? That Bothwell fathered them as well?"
"Aye. So mother told me. I'd hae kept them and raised them as Leslies even so, but once she and Lord Bothwell were settled they wanted their children." Jemmie gazed into Patrick's saddened face. "Ye lost her long ago, father. I canna find it in my heart to condemn her. 'Twas ye who threw away her love. Ye canna complain now, father."
The fourth earl was silent for a moment. "Ye know it all, don't ye? The whole story."
"Aye, though when she told me she spent half her time defending ye, and yer actions." The two men sat quietly for a few minutes. Then James Leslie spoke again. "Ye've been gone five years, father. Did ye really expect to return and find nothing changed? Where were ye that ye could not come back to us sooner, and how did ye finally get here?"
Patrick Leslie held out his glass. "More whisky, lad. 'Tis the one thing we dinna have in the New World that I miss." And when his son had refilled the glass, Patrick sipped it appreciatively, then spoke.
"The Gallant James put out from Leith on March twenty-seventh, 1596. We cruised quickly down the North Sea, through the English Channel, and out into the Atlantic. For the next few weeks we sailed west-northwest under clear skies, fresh winds, and in smooth seas. Then suddenly, from nowhere, a storm struck us. I hae seen some wicked storms in my lifetime, Jemmie, but nothing like that! Somehow-though only God knows how-we kept the vessel righted. At one point a wave the color of green ice and the size of a small mountain bore down on us out of the raging sea. I managed to grab hold of a rope that was wound about one of the masts, but half the crew on deck were washed overboard with that killer wave.
"When the storm finally abated we had been blown far off our course, though until several days later I didna know how far. The ship, or what was left of her, was badly crippled. We might have died out there had we not been taken in tow by a Spanish vessel.
"At first they thought we were English, and were all for destroying the heretics. Fortunately my Spanish is pure Castilian. Let that be a lesson to ye, Jemmie. If ye keep yer languages up ye'll ne'er be at a loss in a tight spot!
"I explained to the captain of our rescue ship that we were not English, but Scots, and we were nae Protestants, but Catholics. I believe I even mentioned Uncle Charles, the abbot, and my Uncle Francis, who is now the pope's secretary. Captain Velasquez was quite impressed and, seeing the medals about our necks, believed us."
"But where were ye, father?"
"The storm had blown us south, Jemmie, to a tip of the continent, a place the Spanish call Florida. We were taken to a small town called St. Augustine, and for many months we were kept there.
"I have since learned that they quickly ascertained my true identity by sending to their ambassador in Edinburgh. Cousin Jamie, however, sent return word to the Spanish governor in St. Augustine that, though I should not be harmed, I was to be detained for as long as possible. I think he hoped to bind Cat to him so completely that when I did return we would both be forced to accept the king's will." Patrick Leslie sighed. "The little bastard!" Then he continued.
"Though we were prisoners we were royally treated. I had a small house of my own, and the few crew that survived wi me were all decently cared for. Eventually, as they saw my restlessness, I was allowed to ride out wi my captors.
"Lord, Jemmie! What a country that New World is! The land goes on forever, and the variety of it is incredible. Mountains! Deserts and great forests filled with trees. It's a rich land, my son."
"Is that why ye didna come back sooner, father?"
"What?"
"Five years, father. Ye've been gone five years!"
Patrick Leslie looked slightly bemused. "The time went so quickly," he said softly. "Ah, Jemmie! What a wonderful country it is! Ye should see it!"
"Perhaps I shall," said the younger earl, "and yet ye came home, father. Ye came home to Glenkirk. What are we to do now?"
"I dinna intend remaining here, my son. I hae tasted real freedom in that vast and rich New World. I dinna pl
an to remain in this poor, old one. There a man can carve an empire for himself, and must toady to nae king. In the fresh new world there are no kings!
"I came back to see my mother, and to see Cat. Now I find that Meg is dead and yer mother is long gone."
"Considering the circumstances between ye when ye left," said James Leslie, "did ye really expect mother to be waiting? If only ye had seen the king wi her. He could scarce wait to show his royal ownership of her. Did ye think I could stand by and let her be held up to shame like that? There are some who think it an honor to be a king's mistress, but we Leslies do not! I could nae protect her, and I knew that she had nae ever stopped loving Francis Hepburn. She deserved any happiness she could get wi him.
"How can I write her now, and say that ye are alive, and that the marriage she contracted in good faith three years ago is a bigamous one? That once again she must be torn from Bothwell? I canna do that to her! I canna!"
"Then don't, Jemmie. The king declared me dead four years ago. Therefore yer mother's marriage to me was legally dissolved. I came back because I love ye all. And I owed it to Cat to come back. If her feelings about me had changed, she might have wanted to return wi me to the New World. I had that in mind when I returned.
"Now, however, my conscious is clear. She is safe and happy. Glenkirk is certainly in good hands wi ye for its lord, and already there are heirs in the nursery. I would see my family, though, Jemmie. Just the bairns, and Adam and Fiona. I cannot cut myself off entirely from Glenkirk. Dinna fear, though, for no Leslie will gie me away.
"Besides, if yer to do business wi me, 'tis better that there's no secrecy. When I return there is a great deal to do setting up a link between us."
"What do ye go back to, father?"
Patrick Leslie smiled. "I stopped at Benjamin Kira's house in Edinburgh before coming to Glenkirk. I brought wi me furs, silver, gold, and jewels of various kinds. I can continue to supply ye wi these items, and Benjamin assures me that he can find the market for them. I am a wealthy man again, but this time in my own right. I'll need naught from Glenkirk, Jemmie."
The younger earl was slightly, though guiltily, relieved. Knowing his thoughts, Patrick Leslie laughed. Then James asked, "But will ye nae be lonely, father?"
"I will miss ye, and my bairns, and certainly my grandsons, who I'm soon to meet. However," and he grinned the rakish grin that Jemmie remembered so well, "there waits anxiously for me in St. Augustine a Señorita Consuela Maria Luisa O'Brien. She is eighteen"-and here James Leslie swallowed hard, for his father's lady was but a year younger than his sister, Bess-"with pale golden skin, blue-black hair, a good Irish temper inherited from her father, and eyes the color of a southern sea. They are so limpid, and inviting, Jemmie, that a man could drown in them!
"As your mother has remarried, I see no reason why I should not do so also. Luisa's mother was the daughter of a Spanish grandee, and her Irish father is my business partner. He will be damned glad to hae me for a son-in-law. Luisa knows of my marriage to Cat, and promised she would wait for my return." Patrick chuckled. "The little wildcat said she would rather be my mistress than another man's wife. Her father would hae beat her black and blue had I not declared myself then and there."
The young earl laughed and looked at his father admiringly. "Mother always said ye were never at a loss for the lasses," he said.
For a brief moment Patrick Leslie's face was shadowed in sadness. He said seriously, "Only wi her was I ever at a loss, Jemmie. We had good times, Cat and I, and we had six fine bairns. But I must say honestly that she was hesitant from the very first about being my wife. I sometimes think that, left to herself, she might never hae wed wi me.
"Ah, well, 'tis a new century we live in, Jemmie, and though he'll never know it, James did us a great favor in separating us." He raised his half-filled glass. "I gie ye Catriona, the Countess of Bothwell! God keep her safe and happy, for she deserves it!"
Slowly James Leslie raised his own glass and, looking with love and pride at his father, exclaimed, "The beautiful Countess of Bothwell! God bless her!"
Bertrice Small
***
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