Love Wild and Fair (46 page)

“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 silence 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 softly, “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 ye’ll be as intuitive of yer wife’s feelings as ye are of yer mother’s.”

His eyes twinkled. “Ahh, madame, I am. I certainly am!”

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 h
im
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 Aberdeen, 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.”

“I will, my dear. Dinna think too harshly of yer mother. She has always lived in her own sensuous little world where the only other occupant was yer father. I will make her understand. And who knows—when yer safe, we may even come visiting!”

“My bairns … ye’ll be sure to look after them, Meg?”

“Aye.”

“And ye’ll nae let them forget me until I can send for them?”

“Nay, love. Now go, Catriona! Go before ye make a foolish and emotional decision.” Gently Meg kissed Cat’s cheek and pushed her from her chambers.

For a moment Cat stood in the cold, dark corridor. I’ll nae see this again, she thought, and the tears flowed down her cheeks. My God! If anyone sees me I’ll be hard put to explain.

Fiercely she wiped the wetness from her cheeks and ran through the back passages of the castle to her own apartments. The servants—with the exceptions of Susan and her young sister, May—had all been sent to bed.

“Is everything done?” Cat asked Susan.

“Yes, my lady. Conall and his men hae seen to it. He said we were to leave as soon as ye returned.” She hustled Cat into the bedchamber, where she had a steaming tub waiting. “’Tis the last yer apt to get for a while.”

Cat smiled weakly. “Did ye pack everything I told ye? And ye hae my jewel cases?”

“Aye to both questions. If the king’s men come looking they’ll find most of yer clothes still here awaiting yer return. Ah, what fun ‘twill be to buy ye new clothes in France!”

The heaviness was beginning to lift from Cat’s shoulders. “Ye and May shall have some new clothes too,” she promised.

Within the hour she was dressed and ready. Then Susan, who stood behind her, unexpectedly fastened about Cat’s neck the lion pendant given her by Lord Bothwell. “I thought ye should be reminded of what yer going to, my lady, nae what yer leaving.”

Cat smiled, suddenly happy. “Susan, I didna think ye could understand the wrench this is for me. I thank ye, Susan, for helping me through a hard, hard time. Yer a good friend to me, and I willna forget it.”

Catching up her fur-lined cloak, she walked to the fireplace and pressed the carving that opened the door to the secret passageway. “Be sure the door is shut tight behind ye, girls,” she said, and taking a candle she stepped into the corridor.

Minutes later they exited at the foot of the west tower, where Conall waited with three horses. Cat swung herself onto Iolaire’s back while Susan and May rode pillion. With Conall leading the way, they rode out from Glenkirk unseen by the watch. On a hill high above the castle they were joined by a party of men so large that Cat was taken aback.

“Christ!” she swore. “How many are there, Conall?”

“Fifty. I couldna hae ye chasing all over Europe wi just half a dozen men to protect ye. Ye can afford it.” And raising his arm he signaled the start of their journey.

“Wait!”
she commanded. Turning Iolaire, she looked back down onto Glenkirk, looming dark against a darker sky. For a moment she hesitated, torn with one final doubt. Leave Glenkirk? Leave her bairns? Leave Scotland? Leave nearly all she held dear? And then she saw James’ sensuous face before her, and she heard his voice, low and insinuating, saying, “… and ye will do to me what ye did this night …” Yanking her horse about, Cat shouted,
“Forward!”
and galloped away.