Love Wild and Fair (73 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Erotica

BOOK: Love Wild and Fair
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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 parents.”

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 di dna 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 plan 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!”

Moonlit Gardens

She stood on the bedchamber balcony welcoming the soft night air on her skin. Then she turned and saw him standing across the room, gazing longingly at her. He held out his arms, and suddenly she was shy. His hand slowly caressed her silken hair, and a tremor ran through her. “Tis been a long, long time, my darling,” he whispered.

Pleasures Yet Untasted

“Francis! Kiss me!” And she raised her head up.

For a moment he gazed lovingly at the face turned expectantly to him. His slender fingers explored it, gently touching her cheeks, her closed eyelids, her nose, her mouth. Then he bent, his arms circling her waist, pressing her against him, his mouth tenderly touching hers.

Eternal Desire

Deep within her a flame of passion flickered, and she shuddered. He had always made love to her with incredible gentleness, yet she felt tonight a fierceness lurking beneath the calm. The mouth on hers suddenly became more demanding. His hands caressed her long back, and she moaned softly, her body beginning to tremble weakly against his….

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AVON BOOKS
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New York, New York 10022-5299

Copyright © 1978 by Bertrice Small
Published by arrangement with the author
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 78-59085
ISBN: 0-380-40030-8
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