Love Wild and Fair (36 page)

“No,” he answered quietly, “yer not.”

“Christ,” she whispered at him fiercely, “how can ye want me back knowing that I love
him?
I will always love him!” She snatched the decanter up and poured herself some wine. The look she threw him was defiant, and pure Cat.

He laughed. “Dinna get drunk until ye’ve eaten something.” He removed the decanter from the tray and put it on the bedside table. Going to the door, he called again to Mrs. Kerr to bring him a tray. It soon appeared, a distinct contrast to hers, containing raw oysters, several slices of ham, artichokes in oil, bread and butter, apples, a honeycomb, and a pitcher of red wine.

Warily she watched him wolf down his food while she forced herself to eat a slice of capon and some bread and butter. Knowing her sweet tooth, he laid a piece of honeycomb on her plate and was encouraged when she ate it Then, having drunk up the little decanter of white wine, she took his pitcher of red and filled her goblet. He removed it from her hand.

“Ye’ll be sick, Cat,” he said, “and there is nothing more unpleasant than sleeping wi a drunken woman.”

Her eyes widened. “Ye dinna mean to sleep in
this bed?
No! No! Ye canna be that cruel, Patrick. Gie me some time!”

It had come, and Patrick Leslie steeled himself for

what he must do. He was shocked to discover that Both-well knew her a great deal better than he ever had. “Yer my wife, Cat,” he said quietly. “Whether ye want to be or whether ye love me is nae longer important. By law ye belong to me, and though ye may not love me, I love ye very much. I hae been wi’out yer company now for over two years. I hae no intention of denying myself the pleasure of yer lovely body any longer.”

While he spoke he carefully undressed himself. Now he walked over to the bed and, pulling back the coverlet, climbed in beside her. She tried to escape him by leaving the bed on the other side, but he caught her easily. Slowly and deliberately, he drew her fiercely struggling body to him. Forcing her back into the curve of his arm, he bent and captured her mouth. Her lips were cold and pressed tightly together. Gently he forced them open, plunging his tongue into her mouth while his free hand caressed the breasts he had skillfully freed from her bodice. She gasped as a wave of desire shot through her. Desperately she renewed her struggle. She did not want Patrick Leslie. She wanted Francis Hepburn, and she could hear his voice even now, mocking her. Just two nights ago he had said, “Ye were made for love. Ye canna deny that.”

Her body was betraying her again, as it always had, by responding to lovemaking when she did not want it to. All the while her husband pleasured himself with her, her heart cried out to Bothwell. Glenkirk had never made love to her with such tenderness, and this calmed her somewhat. He moved rhythmically, finally crying out his relief. She found that, though his lovemaking had excited her body, she had not reached a climax emotionally. He realized it too. Withdrawing from her, he cradled her in his arms. “Go to sleep,” he said gently. For some reason she felt safe, and obeyed. They stayed in Edinburgh for several days, until he

was sure she could travel safely. Each night he made love to her, as if to reaffirm his position. At last he took her home to Glenkirk. They arrived a week after Bess Leslie’s eleventh birthday. Bess seemed to be the only one not especially glad to see her mother.

Jamie, the Leslie heir, was now fifteen and on short leave from the university. He stood as tall as his father, and from the saucy looks the servant girls gave him, Cat knew that her eldest son was already being instructed in the arts of love. The thought disturbed her a little, for she was only thirty-one. As she hugged him he touched the unfamiliar short gold curls.

“What happened to yer hair, mother?”

“I gave it to the king,” she answered.

“Jesu! Ye defied him?”

“Aye.”

He saw the pain in her eyes, and saw as well that she tried to hide it. Putting his arms about her he said softly, “Dinna grieve, mother. We love ye too, and are very glad to hae ye home again.”

Colin and Robbie were home from Rothes. They swarmed over her like young puppies. In great contrast, Cat’s two youngest daughters, Amanda, six, and Morag, five, were quite shy with the beautiful, sad woman whom Grandmother Meg said was their mother. Within a few days, however, Cat had won the two little girls over. Only Bess remained aloof.

“She is jealous of ye,” said Meg with amusement. “Soon she will be grown, and she’s been feeling her own femininity lately. Then ye come home—and lord, Catriona! Yer over thirty, and absolutely beautiful! Tis very hard on poor Bess. She adores Patrick, and up until now has had a great deal of his attention. Now he spends most of his time wi ye.”

The matter came to a head when it appeared that Patrick’s nightly efforts had borne fruit, and Cat began

to swell with another child. The unhappy Countess of Glenkirk overheard her eldest daughter discussing the matter with her oldest brother.

“I think it is disgusting,” raged the girl, “at her age. And especially after what she’s done to our father by whoring wi Lord Bothwell!”

There was the sound of a slap, and Bess shrieked, “Ye hit me, Jamie. Ye hit me!”

“Aye,” Jamie replied. “And, Mistress Jealousy, I’ll smack ye again if ye ever speak of mother like that. We know naught of what happened between mother and father, but I do know that mother loves Francis Hepburn. She has come back because she loves us too, and would nae allow the king to destroy us.”

“How do ye know that?” sneered Bess.

“Because John Leslie, the Rothes heir, is at University wi me, and he overheard his father telling his uncle that Glenkirk only got his wife back because the king threatened to destroy our whole family unless she left Bothwell.”

“Good for the king!” gloated Bess. “He is a godly man.”

Jamie laughed cruelly. “Yer a fool, little sister. Nay, perhaps just a foolish little virgin. The king lusts after mother, and when she refused him he forced her to leave Bothwell by threatening us.”

“Then why does she hae father’s child if she doesna love him?”

“To make peace between them, I would think, little sister. She is a brave and bonnie lady, our mother, and if ye are not civil to her in future I’ll beat ye myself!”

Cat was amazed at how much her son knew and how wise he was at his age. She could also see that she would have to keep an eye on Bess. The child was growing quickly, and understood enough half-truths to be confused. Cat knew that her daughter’s angry opinions were

not her own, but were echoes of an adult voice. Suspecting the offender’s identity, Cat took steps to remedy the situation.

When Cat had fled to Lord Bothwell, her faithful tiring woman had not known the reason for her mistress’ behavior. Returned to Glenkirk, Ellen had taken care of Bess from the busy Sally and Lucy Kerr. As the months went by with no word from Cat, Ellen’s confusion turned to anger. She unwisely expressed her anger to young and impressionable Bess. And now, with her lady’s return, Ellen deserted Bess and resumed her duties with Cat, thus adding to poor Bess’ bitterness.

Cat could see that Bess missed Ellen, and though Ellen had always been valuable to her, her over-solicitous attention had begun to get on Cat’s nerves. Ellen seemed to think that Cat had done a terrible thing, and was fortunate that Patrick forgave her. Rather than scold her old servant, Cat took her aside and spoke to her confidentially. “Ellie, I am going to need yer help wi Bess. She is getting to the age where she needs an experienced hand to guide her. Ye looked after her while I was away. Would ye mind taking charge of her again? She is so fond of ye.”

“I will do whatever ye wish, but who will take care of ye, my chick? Especially in yer condition.”

“Ellie! Ye’ve become a foolish old woman. ‘Tis not my first bairn. I canna replace ye, but I think yer niece, Susan, would do nicely.”

“Aye,” said Ellen thoughtfully, thinking of her plain and sensible niece. “Susan is nae a flibbertigibbety girl. She would do her job well, and I will guide her. But could she not be Mistress Bess’ woman rather than me?”

“I think that Bess would be happier wi ye, Ellie, and ye were so good wi me at that age. However, I will leave the decision to ye.”

Ellen decided—as Cat knew she would—that Bess would be a better mistress. It was easy to boss a young and unsure girl, and she no longer understood her lady Catriona Feeling important once again, Ellen took charge of Bess and spoke well of Cat to her daughter.

Cat made certain to spend time with her three daughters. Amanda and Morag had lost their shyness of their mother, which gave Cat joy. Bess, though she remained wary, was friendlier than she had been, and even joined in games Cat played with the little ones.

Eight months after her return to Patrick Leslie, Cat Leslie went into labor. “ ‘Tis too soon,” worried the earl to his mother. “I’m surprised she’s lasted this long,” observed Meg. “Dinna look so worried, my son. By nightfall there will be at least two more Leslies in this house. Cat is carrying twins, and multiple births always deliver early. I know because my mother’s last children were twins. They run in our family.”

The dowager countess was correct Cat easily and quickly delivered a son and a daughter before the sun set on May 1 of 1594. The boy was baptized Ian, the girl Jane. Patrick was delighted that his wife had so thoughtfully named their children after his paternal grandparents. Cat cradled each child before she slept, and then quietly announced that she would not be nursing these children. Wet nurses were quickly found for the twins.

In mid-June Patrick Leslie was visited by Benjamin Kira, and the result was a journey to London. Thinking she would enjoy the trip, he asked Cat to go with him. She refused.

“I’ll be gone from late summer till next spring, sweetheart Please come wi me. We’ve been back together such a short time.”

“No, Patrick. Ye promised
him
that before he left Scotland we might see each other. If I am in England wi ye when he calls me, I will never see him again. Dinna ask me to go away wi ye again.”

He did not, though it pained him to admit that he was saddened by her refusal. He had hoped the birth of their twins would help her to forget the border lord. On August 15, Patrick Leslie left Glenkirk bound for London.

On September 15 the Countess of Glenkirk received an invitation from George Gordon, the powerful Earl of Huntley, to visit him and his wife at Huntley Castle. Gossip had it that Bothwell was in the north. If he was, then Cat knew he would be with the Gordons. On September 17 the Countess of Glenkirk left her castle for Huntley.

T
HE truce between James Stewart and Francis Stewart-Hepburn had not worked out Though the king had signed an agreement on August 14, 1593, to pardon his noble cousin and his equally noble supporters, and to restore all their estates, titles, and honors, he was soon tempted to go back on his word. On September 8, a convention of parliament was held at Stirling, and James attempted to modify the promises he had made in August On September 22, the king forbade his cousin and his supporters to come within ten miles of him unless summoned by James himself. Should they disobey, the charge against them would be high treason. Maitland’s power had not waned.

The royal gauntlet thrown down, it was picked up by Bothwell and armed friends. They assembled outside Linlithgow in early October while the king was in residence. On October 22, Bothwell was called before the high council to answer to the charge of high treason. Refusing to attend the proceedings, he was denounced. All was quiet for several months, and then in the spring of 1594 James called twice for a levy of forces to bring his cousin to the king’s justice. Suddenly Bothwell appeared with a powerful force outside of Leith. He had come, he said, to fight the Spaniards, whose imminent landing was rumored. His real purpose was to make a show of strength, in hope of bringing his royal cousin to terms.

James advanced towards Leith from Edinburgh while Botimell retreated in leisure towards Dalkeith, as though he were not being pursued at all. James was forced to go back to Edinburgh, having lost yet another encounter with his cousin. The border lord then slipped over the border into England, where he remained, quietly, until Queen Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge his presence and eject him.

Francis Hepburn now had two choices. He could deliver himself up to James, or he could join with the northern earls. Sensing that exile was near, he went north so he could see Cat before leaving his homeland. There was no one else left he cared to see. Hercules had been caught and hanged in the previous bitter February. Margaret Douglas and his children behaved as if he did not exist. Only Cat Leslie remained. Would she see him?

No one had told Cat so, but she knew intuitively that he waited at Huntley for her. Gathering her daughters about her, she told them she would be gone for a while. “But I’ll be back, my little loves,” she promised, “and then I’ll nae leave ye again.”

When Amanda and Morag had run off to play, Bess, now twelve, asked quietly, “Is Lord Bothwell at Huntley, mother?”

Cat’s first reaction was to tell her daughter it was none of her business. But then she looked again at Bess, who hovered between childhood and womanhood, and thought better of it. The countess put an arm about her eldest daughter. “Yes,” she said. “I believe that Lord Bothwell is at Huntley. Dinna be angry, Bess. Yer father gave me his permission to see Francis. Someday ye’ll love a man. Perhaps then, Bess, ye’ll understand yer mother.”

“I shall ne’er love any man but my true, wedded lord, mother.”

Cat laughed softly and squeezed her daughter gently. “How wonderful to be
so
young, and
so
positive, my darling. I hope that in my absence ye will help yer grandmother, and watch over yer sisters and the twins.”

Bess Leslie looked at her mother for a moment, and then she clung to her. “Ye’ll nae go away wi Lord Bothwell? Ye will come home? Ye’ll nae leave us forever?”

“No, my child. I will be back.” A lump rose in her throat. “I will come back to ye, Bessie luv. Dinna fear.”