Love Wild and Fair (17 page)

“I am nae a whore to be quickly fucked, Jamie.”

“So ye can talk! I thought ye were angry wi me.”

“I am! ‘Twas nae kind of ye to send Patrick away so quickly!”

“My dear Cat, for three nights I stood in that damned passage and watched ye and yer husband make love. I could stand it no longer. Would ye rather I came through the door and asked yer husband to move over?”

Stunned, she could not answer. That anyone else had partaken of her private moments with Patrick infuriated her.

I hae a large score to settle wi ye, James Stewart, and I intend to settle it one day, she thought bitterly.

The king’s mouth closed over the nipple of her breast, and sucked hungrily. His hand was between her legs, seeking her soft, sensitive secret flesh. With exquisite expertise he caressed her, his fingers teasing with unbearable gentleness. Within minutes he had reduced her to a writhing passion.

She had wanted to punish him with coldness, but as

her own desire grew she suddenly realized that the greatest harm she could inflict on James was to be the most voluptuous female he would ever encounter. She would ruin him for other women! She knew that once young Anna of Denmark arrived in Scotland, James would devote himself to her. Above all, he wanted a wife who belonged to him alone, and he wanted a family. He was the kind of man who couldn’t jeopardize all that.

However, a teenaged virgin would hardly compare favorably with a woman as experienced as Cat was. She was no wanton, but Patrick had taught her well, and Cat was by nature a sensuous woman. She would now use her experience to revenge herself on James Stewart Shifting her lovely body, she slid under the king and wound her arms about his neck. “Jamie,” she whispered huskily. “Love me, Jamie hinny!”

He could scarcely believe his ears, but when he looked down at her he saw shining eyes and an inviting mouth. The king didn’t question his good fortune. He took possession of the lips offered him. They were soft and yielding, and they drove him to a frenzy.

Her thighs opened and she arched her body to meet his downward thrust. Her legs wrapped tightly about him, and each time he drove within her, her little tongue darted within his mouth. His excitement was fierce and he was unable to control himself. Yet within minutes, as she moved voluptuously beneath him, he grew hard again with lust for her. She whispered his name over and over again like a litany. He was mad with passion for her, but this time he held himself in check until she could find her heaven too.

Exhausted, they lay panting on the bed. Finally, he spoke. “Ye frighten me, Cat! Ye canna be human, for no woman can love like ye have just loved me!”

“But I can, my lord. Did I not please ye?”

“Aye, love, ye pleased me verra much. Did ye use witchcraft?”

Cat remembered that James was terribly superstitious.

She bit back her laughter. “Nay, my lord. I used only the sorcery of my body.” Standing, she stretched tall, and then walked over to the cabinet.

“Red or white, my lord?”

“Red,” he said, and she poured out two crystal goblets of the ruby wine. Carrying them back to the bed, she handed him one. Sipping it thoughtfully, he asked her, “Did Patrick teach ye to make love like that?”

“Aye,” she answered him quietly.

“Ye’ve never known any other men, have ye?”

“Nay, Jamie, none. I am by birth a Hay of Greyhaven. Our home is quite isolated, and other than my brothers and my Hay and Leslie cousins, I had no contact with the world. I came to Patrick a virgin.”

“Is yer family large?”

“I hae four brothers—one older, three younger—and my parents are both living.”

“Yer fortunate, my sweet,” sighed the king.

“They are but part of my family,” she reminded him. “Dinna forget I have a husband and six children.” She looked directly at James. “When the queen arrives from Denmark, your majesty, I am going home to Glenkirk and to my children. Ye may be the king, but I’ll nae allow ye to destroy my marriage! I love Patrick Leslie, and I love our bairns. If I did not I would hae sooner killed myself than submit to another man’s lust!”

He caught a handful of her hair and pulled her down to him. “Yet, madame, ye respond to my lovemaking, and ye will continue to respond as long as it pleases me.”

“I respond,” she answered defiantly, “because Patrick taught my body to respond.”

“Are all the Leslies such paragons in bed?” he asked sarcastically.

“According to their wives, and the lasses in our district, they are. My cousin Fiona was an extremely restless woman until she married my lord’s brother, Adam Leslie. Since then she has nae strayed once.”

“Fiona Leslie,” mused the king. “Aye! Sultry, wi auburn hair, gray eyes, and skin like ivory satin. I’ve seen the wench, but I didna realize she was yer relative. Perhaps some evening I may entertain the two of ye.”

“Am I not woman enough for ye, Jamie?” Pushing him back onto the pillows, she kissed him expertly, and her hand slid between his legs. He quickly grew hard in the silky warmth of her skilled caresses, but before he could move to mount her, she took the initiative and mounted him instead. Triumphantly, she looked down into his surprised face. And before he could stop her she began to ride him as one would ride a horse, her round knees digging into him. No woman had ever done this to James Stewart. Shocked, he struggled beneath her.

She laughed, mocking him. “How do
ye
like being forced, my lord king?”

He could not escape the iron grip of the warm thighs that gripped him. To his shame and horror he felt himself pouring his seed in furious spurts into her. She collapsed on top of him. Angrily, he rolled over, forcing her underneath him. Her eyes were sparkling wickedly, and her mouth was laughing. Slapping her several times, he was amazed to feel his desire quickening again, so he thrust brutally into her, making her cry out in pain. The knowledge that he was hurting her seemed to soothe him.

Afterwards he spoke quietly to her. “Yer the most exciting woman I hae ever lain wi, Catriona Leslie, but if ye ever do to me again what ye did this evening, I’ll

beat ye black and blue. I am nae a maid to be used in such a fashion!”

“I ask yer majesty’s pardon,” she said softly, but somehow he felt her voice wasn’t contrite enough. “Sometimes,” she continued, “Patrick likes me to love him in that fashion. He says it excites him to play wi my breasts while we—”

“If I want to fuck ye and play wi yer tits I can love ye in the Greek fashion,” he interrupted her. “In fact, I hae a mind to do it now!”

“No, Jamie! Damn! Not that, please! I hate it! Noooo!”

Now it was the king’s turn to laugh. He wanted to punish her further, and this was the way. She would feel the shame he had felt. Forcing her over onto her stomach, he took her quickly, cruelly bruising the lovely breasts. He was pleased as she wept and struggled to escape him. She was much subdued when he had finished with her, and James felt he had gained mastery over her again.

They slept for a few hours. Then, roused by the sight of his naked, tousled and sleepy mistress, the king took her again. This time he was gentle. He smiled down at her afterwards and said, “I’ll be late this evening, my pet. Closer to midnight.” After taking a piece of marchpane from the plate on the nightstand, he put on his dressing gown and disappeared through the passage door.

Cat fell back onto the pillows. She was exhausted. Her body felt battered and bruised, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to walk. But—and she smiled as she fell asleep—if she could keep up the pace, James would soon have memories to burn his brain forever. No other woman would ever satisfy him.
That
was to be her revenge. It did not occur to her that James simply might not let her go.

Several hours later, Ellen looked in on her mistress. What she saw decided her course of action. “The countess is unwell this morning,” she told the two under-maids. “Here is a silver piece between ye. There’s a fair just outside the city. Ye may go, but be back by early afternoon. Ellen locked the doors of the apartment and, returning to Cat’s bedroom, sat down with her knitting.

Cat awoke several hours after noon. “What time is it?” she demanded.

“Past two. Good God, my lady! What did he do to ye?”

“Everything,” said Cat wearily. “Where are Silis and Una?”

“I sent them off when I saw the condition ye were in. They’ll be back soon.”

“I want a tub. A hot, hot tub!”

“Ye canna go on like this each night,” scolded Ellen.

Cat laughed ruefully. “Nay. I can’t. Dinna fear, Ellie. Last night the king and I were but gauging each other. Now he has my measure, and I hae his!”

An hour and a half later the Countess of Glenkirk was seen riding outside the city accompanied by six of her men-at-arms. She was vastly admired by the common folk, who, knowing her reputation as the Virtuous Countess, pointed her out to their daughters as an example.

Throughout the late summer and early autumn Catriona adorned James’ court. There was not a nobleman, young or old, who did not desire her. Lady Leslie did not succumb. She remained warm, charming, gracious, witty—and unobtainable.

Adam Leslie was frank in admiration. “No one,” he said to her, “no one would ever know yer sleeping wi the king. Patrick would be proud of ye.”

“I doubt it,” she answered him dryly. “By the way,

best to keep an eye on Fiona. Jamie referred to her as a sultry wench. I think he rather fancies her.” Cat enjoyed Adam’s discomfiture.

“How long until the little queen arrives?” he asked.

Cat grew serious. “She set out once, but the storms hae been unusually fierce. I understand her ship was forced into Oslo, and there she waits until the sea calms.” Cat lowered her voice. “There is talk of witchcraft. Already several women hae been questioned. Jamie grows anxious. I would nae be surprised to see him go to fetch her himself.”

“Leave Scotland?” asked Adam incredulously. “Why? Let him send the high admiral for her.”

“Bothwell will nae go. He says that all the fines Jamie has imposed on him during their last quarrel hae impoverished him, and he has nae the money for such an expedition.”

Adam laughed. “He has nerve, the border lord, to brave his royal cousin’s anger again. Do ye really think James will go?”

“Aye. After all, he wants his wife, not someone else’s.”

Cat smiled. She was responsible for the King’s mood. For ten weeks now he had been sharing her bed. For the first time in his sad life his nights were filled with warmth and even a kind of security. The woman who slept with him was kind and tender and generous. His marriage bed would be just as delightful, she assured him. Too, there would be the pleasant duty of siring children. The Danish royal family was large, and surely Queen Anna would prove fruitful. Why, by this time next year, James could be a father!

The more Cat talked, the more eager James Stewart became to be with his bride. When he could stand it no longer, the king arranged his government to run smoothly in his absence. Leaving as regent his cousin,

Francis Stewart-Hepburn, the Earl of Bothwell, James departed Leith for Oslo on October 22, 1589. Luck was with him The breezes were fresh, the skies bright blue, and the seas easy. He reached Norway quickly.

With the king away there was no point in her staying at court, so the Countess of Glenkirk made plans to go home. James had, however, exacted a promise from her that she would return when he brought his queen home. She had agreed, believing she would be safe from his attentions with the queen in residence. She longed for Patrick, and wondered if he were as lonely as she.

W
HEN King James reached Oslo in early November he was met by the nobles he had sent to accompany the queen home. They escorted their impatient king to the house where the Danish princess was staying. A startled servant answered the thundering knocks, and James Stewart swept in demanding to see his bride.

Directed to a second-floor salon, the King oí Scotland ran lightly up the stairs. Bursting in, he cried out, “Annie luv! ’Tis yer Jamie! Gie us a kiss, lass! I hae coom to take ye hame to Scotland!”

The startled princess, who had worked very hard to learn English, could hardly understand the wild man before her. A look of obvious distaste on her face, she backed away. Then the Earl of Glenkirk stepped forward and, in slow, unaccented English, said to her, “Your royal highness, may I have the honor to present his gracious majesty, King James of Scotland.”

The princess curtsied prettily. James Stewart was immediately enchanted. She was even prettier than her portrait Anna of Denmark was slightly shorter than the king, with silky yellow hair, sky-blue eyes, and a pink-and-white complexion. She had a little cleft in her chin, and when she smiled, two fetching dimples peeped out from either side of her rosebud mouth. She was all youth and innocence, and James instantly remembered all the things Cat had promised him marriage would be.

“His majesty would like to give you a kiss of welcome, your highness,” continued the earl.

Anna of Denmark did not even look at the king. Instead, she spoke directly to Glenkirk. “Please tell his majesty that Danish ladies of good breeding do not kiss gentlemen before they are married to them.” Curtsying again to the assembled group, the princess signaled to her ladies and left the salon.

Open-mouthed, the king watched her go. Then he swore. “Jesu! What manner of ice maiden hae I been contracted to wed?”

His courtiers, many of whom had already learned about the promiscuity of Danish ladies, dared not say a word. Finally Patrick Leslie spoke up. “She’s really a nice little lass, cousin, but ye took her unawares. I think she was probably embarrassed, and maiden-shy. Undoubtedly she wished to meet ye in fine array rather than the simple gown she was wearing. As a married man of many years I can tell ye women put great store by their appearance, especially at a first meeting.”

The other courtiers murmured their agreement. Somewhat mollified, James said, “Cat sends ye her love, Patrick. I hae given her permission to go home to Glenkirk until we return to Scotland.”