Love Wild and Fair (41 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

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

BOOK: Love Wild and Fair
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Cat snorted. Ye dinna fool me, Jamie! Wi Patrick gone and Bothwell exiled, ye think to hae yer way wi me. Come to court and gie my son and his bride their privacy! Pah! Come to court and gie ye my body. You bastard! Ye say nothing of my other bairns. What would ye say if I arrived wi them all?

She was in a very difficult position and could not ask her young son for protection against the king.

But the young earl knew most of the reasons for his parents estrangement. Now, with the king seeking to entrap his mother again, Jemmie sought and found what he believed was a solution to free Cat without openly offending the king.

As he burst into her apartments she looked up, startled. “My God! Ye look so like Patrick,” she said with a catch in her voice.

He knelt by her side, saying softly, “I hae the answer to yer dilemma, mother! I know how we may thwart the king wi’out bringing his wrath down on the Leslies! Tis foolproof!”

She put a hand on his shoulder, and he saw the sadness in her face. “Jemmie, my love, I thank ye, but I am trapped, and I would nae shame yer father’s memory by destroying his family—our family. The king wants me as his mistress and there is simply no escape for me. I must obey him.”

“Nay! Listen to me! The king is nae aware that I know of his duplicity. What if after Bella and I and Bess and Henry are married this winter, we all troup to court, leaving ye here to complete yer mourning period. We return to find ye gone. Only a note remains … telling us ye’ve gone to visit our Leslie cousins in France in hopes of overcoming yer depression.”

“And,” said Cat, excitedly catching his mood, “if as soon as ye leave Edinburgh to return home, workmen arrive at Glenkirk House to completely refurbish it, the king will nae suspect that I dinna intend to return.” She chuckled. “I will secretly transfer the deed to Glenkirk House to Bella, and my lodge, A-Cuil, to Bess. That way, when Jamie discovers that the bird has flown, he canna confiscate them. Yer right, my son! If ye play the loyal and loving subject then Jamie dare not touch anything Leslie. His involvement has been wi Bothwell, yer father, and me. If he believes ye know nothing, he can nae punish you or our family. His pride will nae permit it, for he is very anxious the English hae a good report of him. The old queen has never officially declared him her heir, and she might name Arabella Stewart, his first cousin. But, Jamie. Ye must publicly denounce my wicked behavior. Not even Bella must know of our plot.”

He grinned at her. “Aye, mother. Ye are indeed a shameful hussy, but I’d hae ye no other way!” Then he became more serious. “Ye’ll need money. I’ll ask the Kiras the best way of secretly handling funds for ye.”

“Nay, Jemmie, but thank ye for the thought. There’s nae been a need for ye to know, but I am a very wealthy woman in my own right. I will hae the Kiras begin to slowly transfer my funds to Europe.”

“Where will ye go?” he asked her, knowing in his heart the answer she would give him.

She looked straight at him. “Why, Jemmie, I go to find Bothwell. If Francis will still hae me I will be the happiest woman alive.”

“I dinna think ye need fear that Lord Bothwell doesna want ye. I understand he was recently expelled from France for killing a man in a duel. The unfortunate gentleman in question made an unkind remark regarding a lady of quality in Scotland who held Bothwell’s devotion.”

“And where is Francis now?” she asked evenly.

“Italy. He tried Spain, but the Spaniards are a bit too religious, and their court is quite stuffy. Ye’ll find yer border lord in Naples. Go to him, mother, and be happy! Marry him as ye both always wanted. Glenkirk will ever be here for ye, but I dinna think you’ll need it.”

“Frances Anne?”

“Will remain here until yer safely established. I send her to ye then.”

“Ian and Jane also,” she said quietly.

James Leslie laughed softly. “I always suspected as much, though, thank God, father never did!”

She flushed under her eldest son’s amused gaze. “Ye amaze me, Jemmie. How can ye be so tolerant?”

“I am tolerant because ye were always a good mother to us. I am tolerant because until the king forced ye into his bed ye were always a good and loving wife to my father. I am tolerant because the same hot blood that flows in your veins, mother, flows in mine. I have seen how other men look at ye, and as a page wi Lord Rothes’ household I have overheard things. Whatever happened that lost my father yer love I blame on the king. I dinna suppose ye would tell me now, would ye?”

For a moment she was thoughtful, and then she spoke. “When yer father found the king wi me he was shocked and very, very hurt. The king might have saved Glenkirk’s pride, but instead he cruelly praised my performance in his bed to your father. He took him into my antechamber and there they spent the next few hours drinking Glenkirk whisky, and talking. Afterwards, when they were both very drunk, they entered my bedroom, and …” She stopped for a minute, her face white with the memory. She resumed quietly, “Yer father and the king spent the rest of the night taking turns raping me. After several years I forgave yer father, Jemmie, but that night killed my love for him. I could understand, and, aye, even sympathize wi him, but for him to believe that I, who was ever faithful to him, had willingly betrayed him….” She stopped, momentarily lost for words. “He was ever stubborn, was Patrick Leslie! I loved him once, Jemmie, but I always questioned our marriage. We were, I suppose, too alike.

“I fled after that night to the only friend I had—Lord Bothwell. I only meant to gain time, to have a little peace, to think. But Francis and I fell in love. The rest ye know.

“As for James Stewart, I despise him! He plays the good Christian king, the perfect husband, the ideal father. Alas, he is a hypocrite, and the greatest lecher I hae ever known!”

“I thought he was nae interested in women, but preferred men,” said Jemmie.

“Nay. Tis a ruse he uses to hide his real desires.”

“That father could treat ye so! He deserved to lose ye! If I had known, I would hae killed him myself!”

“Jemmie! Jemmie! Yer poor father suffered terribly for that one extravagant cruelty. He returned from Glenkirk eager to see me, and instead found his half-naked wife being fondled by the king. How would ye hae felt if it had been yer Bella? Nay! Tis James who is to blame! Yer father—may God assoil him—is gone. Francis is in the kingdom of Naples, and though I dare not communicate wi him, I will soon be going to him. The old life is almost over, and I will soon be on my way to Bothwell. For now, however, our thoughts must be on planning yer wedding to Isabelle Gordon.”

“And yer plans, mother?”

“Will be taken care of, Jemmie. Tis best ye know nothing more lest ye innocently gie me away. When I am gone, and until I am out of disgrace wi the king, ye can secretly get in touch wi me through the Kiras.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Despite my love for Bothwell,” she said, “I would nae leave ye if I dinna think ye could handle yer title and the duties that go wi it. Learn a lesson from yer ancestors, Jemmie. Only the first Earl of Glenkirk lived to be a white-haired old man. Most of the others involved themselves wi the Stewarts and died young.

“If I had not been so insistent about going to court, perhaps none of this would hae happened. Yer father—and in fairness to his memory, Jemmie, I tell ye this—yer father warned me nae to get involved wi the Stewarts. I would nae listen, but
ye must!
Let yer Uncle Adam guide ye in business, and keep as much from court as ye possibly can.”

“But what happens, mother, when the old queen in the south dies? What if our king goes to London?”

“He will, Jemmie. He impatiently waits for the day he may leave Scotland. Then yer Uncle Adam must go to London to represent our interests, but ye and Bella must remain here. Glenkirk must never be ruled by an absentee lord. ‘Twould be its downfall. Teach yer sons a love of this land so it may never be wi’out a Leslie.”

“Ye talk as if ye’ll ne’er see Glenkirk again, mother.”

“I won’t, Jemmie. I dinna think James will ever forgie me the insult I will deliver him. Rest assured that should I ever set foot on English or Scottish soil while our royal cousin rules, I shall be quickly and quietly arrested, imprisoned, and aye, even killed. When I go, I am gone. I only pray that Francis still wants me.”

James Leslie snorted. “He does! Of that I hae no doubt. God! How desperately he sought to keep ye! If ye had both been less honorable people … but then ye were not, and ye sacrificed yerselves for us Leslies. No more, mother! Though I will publicly condemn ye, ye go wi my blessing, and with my love.”

The smile she gave him was radiant, and he was slightly taken aback. “Jesu, mother! If that is the way ye smile at all the men who please ye, I am surprised ye hae not been ravished at least a hundred times!”

She laughed happily. “A thousand, my impudent young lord! Now be off wi ye, Jemmie! I hae a wedding to plan.” He turned to go. “Jemmie.” He looked and she held his eyes while she rose in a gesture of respect. “I am most grateful to ye, my lord, most grateful. Ye’ll make a fine earl. I am so verra sorry I canna be here to watch ye govern.”

Young James Leslie bowed quickly to his mother and then was gone.

Chapter 39

J
AMES Leslie’s fiancée, Isabelle Gordon, was a younger daughter of George and Henriette Gordon, the Earl and Countess of Huntley. As Huntley House had been burned to the ground two years before by a group of fanatic dissenters, she was to be married at Glenkirk. Some said the Gordons had been singled out not because they were Roman Catholic—half of Scotland still was—but because they had openly sheltered the Earl of Bothwell several years ago.

Now, however, the king had given his blessing to the marriage, and was even coming to the wedding, which would be celebrated on December 20. The young couple would then keep the Christmas through Twelfth Night holidays there before going to Edinburgh for the winter season.

As soon as the wedding date was set, young Isabelle came to Glenkirk. Cat insisted, “She must learn how to run this castle if she is to be its chatelaine.”

“But, madame,” protested the future Countess of Glenkirk, who was pretty and sweet-natured though inclined to be lazy, “surely ye will always be here to help me.”

“Nay, my dear Belle, I will nae be making Glenkirk my home. The king has suggested I return to court I will be making my home in my townhouse in Edinburgh. Jemmie’s grandmother, however, will be in the dower house should ye need advice on running the household. ‘Tis really she ye should go to anyhow. Meg knows Glenkirk better than any of us.”

George Gordon looked across the cozy family hall at Cat. “Bella, my dear,” he said smoothly, “will ye run to the nursery and see that old Nanny has settled the littlest bairns for the night?”

“Yes, papa.” Isabelle dutifully rose and did as she was bid. Yet she wondered what they wanted to talk about that she was not allowed to hear.

“Do ye need help, Cat?” asked Huntley when his daughter had gone. “Dinna tell me that Jamie has dared to pursue ye again.”

“He has, George. I am allowed six months to mourn Patrick, and then I must present myself at court for the king’s pleasure.”

“The bastard!” swore Lord Gordon.

“Dinna fret, George. I will follow my heart.”

The Earl of Huntley looked at the widowed Countess of Glenkirk, and a slow smile spread over his face. “Jesu! What a vixen ye are!” Then more seriously, “He’ll nae take his vengeance on Jemmie and Belle, will he?”

“Nay, George. What reason could he offer in public for attacking two innocent and loyal young subjects? They know nothing of the matter.”

“Is this why ye asked to have the wedding date set now?”

“His majesty suggested it, George. He felt the Glenkirk succession should be protected as soon as possible.”

Gordon chuckled. “More likely he felt ye should be in his bed as soon as possible.”

Cat laughed out loud. “Poor Jamie would be very upset to know how transparent his motives are.”

“Why shouldn’t they be to us, Cat? Hell! The Stewarts have fucked every noble family in Scotland. We’re all cousins!”

Henriette Gordon leaned forward in her chair and asked softly, “What will ye do, Cat?”

“Dinna ask me questions I canna answer, Riette.”

“But, Cat—”

“Hush yer pretty mouth, woman,” said her husband.

So while she openly went about the business of preparing a lavish wedding for her eldest son, Cat Leslie secretly prepared for her escape to Italy. In this endeavor the Kiras, the Leslies’ bankers and business associates for many years, willingly helped.

Over the next few months Cat’s vast fortune would be transferred to the Kiras’ Rome bank, by way of Paris. Though the King of France might have to cooperate with Scotland, the pope in Rome did not—especially when the matter involved a noble Catholic widow fighting to preserve her virtue against the chief Protestant heretic in Europe.

It was decided that Cat would sail down the North Sea, into the English Channel, and across into France. From there she would go overland to Italy, as the sea route was much too dangerous. The Mediterranean teemed with Turkish pirates. She would have her own coach, driver, footmen, and outriders. The only other person at Glenkirk aware of Cat’s plans was Conall More-Leslie, Glenkirk’s assistant captain-at-arms. Cat wanted only Glenkirk people in her entourage, and Conall was the man to arrange it.

“Well,” he said dourly, “if it has to be marriage to Lord Bothwell or royal whoredom to Jamie Stewart, Bothwell is the lesser evil. I’ll help ye, Mistress Cat, but gie me time to choose my men carefully. Catholics only. The Protestants would be too uncomfortable in Italy. Single, uninvolved men wi no one to come home to, so they’ll stay wi us. No youngsters—too hotheaded. But able men in their twenties or thirties. And I’ll nae talk to any till just before we go. Less chance of the word getting to one of Jamie’s spies. Who will ye take to serve ye?”

“Susan, mayhap one other.”

He nodded, not surprised that she already had it all worked out She was like her great-grandmother, Janet Leslie, and never did anything without carefully thinking it out. Too many people had underestimated her intelligence and resourcefulness.

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