Love Wild and Fair (20 page)

“Oh,” said the queen, feeling even sorrier for Christina Anders.

“Francis Stewart-Hepburn, the Earl of Bothwell,” called out the major-domo. The queen turned to greet the new arrival.

S
AFELY in their coach, the Earl of Glenkirk turned to his wife. “I have never seen ye gie a better performance, Cat.”

“Would ya rather I had caused a scene and attacked yer mistress in public?” she asked him quietly.

“I am sorry, hinny. I dinna mean to hurt ye. Who told ye?”

“Ye did. The letter ye sent me was hardly that of a man longing for his wife. Ye hae put more warmth into yer correspondence wi the Kiras. One letter in all that time! Was she selling her wares on the dock when yer ship came into port that ye couldna find time to write to me? Jamie was devastated ye forgot his birthday! If Francis hadna left him the sword—”

“Francis?”

“Bothwell,” she said. “He escorted us home to Glenkirk after the king left Edinburgh last year. His father and yer mother are cousins, so that makes him our cousin. He stayed till just after Twelfth Night The children,” she said with malice, “adore him, and yer brothers had a fine time wi him. He’s a good friend, Patrick, I like him.”

“Perhaps, madame, I should inquire what ye were doing while I was away on king’s business. Francis Hepburn is a notorious rake.”

“Dinna try to cloud the issue, Patrick! Francis is my friend, nothing more, and ye should not even have to

ask. Besides, he is married. Can ye tell me that Mistress Anders is naught but a friend to ye? And the child she carries is nae yer bairn?”

He had the grace to flush, and she laughed. “Patrick! Patrick! Only the Leslie women know the secret of preventing conception. Yer so used to me that ye got careless wi yer whore.”

Realizing that she wasn’t too angry with him was a great relief. He would not tell her that Christina Anders had tricked him, hoping to have a greater hold on him. He had been tiring of the Danish girl and, knowing it, she had become pregnant He had tried to make her stay behind in Denmark, but she refused to give up her post as lady of the royal bedchamber and threatened to cause a scandal if he told the queen. These things, however, Patrick Leslie would not tell his wife.

“Do ye love this girl?” asked Cat.

“God, no!” he burst out. “Damn, Cat! I am no courtier, and there I was alone in Norway and Denmark wi the Stewart court Do ye know what they do all day? They dice. They drink. They play at games. They change clothes. Aye! Clothes are very important to them! They wench. It is still a source of amazement to me how frequently they change partners. They are the most
useless
people alive! Had I not found a Kira in Copenhagen, I would hae gone mad!”

“A Kira?”

“Aye, sweetheart! They’ve a bank in Copenhagen, and I was able to keep track of our business through them. It gave me something to do.”

Picturing poor Christina Anders waiting patiently while Patrick kept track of his ships and cargoes made the Countess of Glenkirk laugh. Then she asked, “Ye are sure the bairn is yers?”

“Aye. Cairi is many things, but she’s nae a wanton. The child is mine.”

“What will ye do about it, Glenkirk?”

“I will acknowledge it, and see to its support.”

“And its mother? What will ye do about her?”

“I told her from the first that I love my wife, and that our liaison was only a temporary thing. I meant it then and I mean it now.”

They had reached Glenkirk House, which was located just off the Cannongate, near Holyrood House. Cat swept in and up the stairs, bidding Mrs. Kerr a good day. The earl remained below while the servants fussed over him.

Ellen was waiting for her mistress. “Is it true?” she asked. “Has the earl come home wi another woman? Well! Ye certainly need not feel so guilty now!”

Cat whirled around. “If ye ever even hint at
that
again ye’ll end yer days alone at Crannog! Do ye understand me, Ellie?”

The bond of love between mistress and servant was strong. Realizing how deep the hurt done Cat really was, Ellen apologized. “I must be getting old and foolish, my baby.”

The countess caught her tiring woman’s hand and squeezed it Then her eyes twinkled. “Yer gossip is partly correct, ye nosy old woman! His Danish mistress is part of the queen’s entourage, and quite an embarrassment to poor Glenkirk. She went and got herself wi child to try and hold him. Poor Patrick! He’s been married to me for so long he’s forgotten how treacherous women can be.”

“Will ye forgie him?”

“Of course. He’s come home to me, and he’s quite ashamed at having been caught As long as he discards her, I will be content Now, Ellie, see to my bath. I think that wicked new black silk nightgown will do. Glenkirk’s about to receive a welcome he’ll nae forget!”

Ellen laughed. “The Danish girl may deliver three

sons to the earl and she’d still nae have a chance wi him against ye, my lady.”

When Patrick Leslie entered his own apartments a short while later he found that his valet had prepared a steaming oak tub in front of the blazing fireplace. Stripping off his clothing, he said, “Burn them, Angus,” and then climbed into the tub. The water was faintly perfumed and slightly oily. His winter-dry skin soaked it up. He sniffed appreciatively.

“Oil of musk,” Cat said, and he looked up to see her standing in the doorway that connected their bedroom. She walked across the room and, flinging off her black silk robe, mounted the steps and joined him in his tub. Putting her arms about his neck, she molded herself to him and kissed him hungrily. As her little tongue darted back and forth exploring his mouth, her hands fondled him beneath the warm water.

He had needed little encouragement. The mere sight of her had roused him. Loosening his grip on her, he reached down and, cupping her buttocks in his hands, raised her. As her slim legs tightened about his waist he thrust deep within her. He heard her catch her breath. “Damn ye, Patrick! Did ye have to be away so long?”

Much later they lay in their big bed, happy and content with each other. Cat slept naked, safe within the curve of Patrick’s arm. He lay awake wondering what had ever possessed him to get involved with Christina Anders when a clean whore would have served his purposes and given him no trouble.

At Holyrood House, Christina Anders cursed the fact that it was too late to get rid of the bastard growing within her. To try at this stage of the game might kill her. One look at the Countess of Glenkirk had told her the battle was lost And the fantastic act that the countess had put on for just her benefit! How she had

known so quickly was a mystery to Christina, but that she had known was patently obvious. The Danish girl sighed and wondered what would happen to her, and to the child she carried.

She did not have long to wonder. The following day the Countess of Glenkirk reported for duty as a lady of the queen’s bedchamber. Anna took immediately to Catriona Leslie as to a charming and warm older cousin. No help there, thought Christina. Her aid, however, came from the most unexpected quarter. At the first opportunity, the Countess of Glenkirk separated Mistress Anders from the others. They walked in the park surrounding Holyrood House.

“How far gone are ye?” asked Cat with her usual directness.

Christina was frightened, but she stopped and looked up at the tall, beautiful woman. “Madame, I do not know what you mean.”

Cat took the girl’s arm. “Listen, my dear, I hae been wed to Patrick Leslie for twelve years. We hae six children, and what I guessed at, Patrick has confirmed. Now, when is the bairn due?”

Christina’s composure crumbled. “Autumn,” she whispered.

“Dinna fret, my dear,” she heard the countess say to her. “Leslies take care of their own, and yer bairn is a Leslie.”

“The child is a bastard, my lady.”

“Pish!” said Cat impatiently. “Patrick’s great-grandfather, the second earl, fathered a bastard son, the first of the More-Leslies. They have always served us since then. The More-Leslies are respected, and respectable. Your child will be taken care of, and ye need not worry. Yer lucky in that respect Good God, girl! Why did ye nae pick an unmarried man who would possibly have married ye? Yer of good family.”

“I am married, madame. To my third husband, a boy of twelve. Even if my lover had been free to wed me, it would have taken too long to get an annulment, and I can scarcely claim a boy not yet potent as this child’s father. I appreciate and will accept your aid, but my child will not be raised as a servant! He is of good blood on both sides even if he is not legitimate.”

Cat smiled. Christina Anders had given the countess the weapon she needed in order to control the situation. “Ye will be a good mother, my dear, and the Leslies will see yer bairn is raised as befits a noble bastard. However, if ye attempt to ensnare my husband again, I will see ye sent back to Denmark in disgrace and yer child will be sold East into slavery.” So saying, the Countess of Glenkirk patted the girl’s arm kindly and walked away.

Christina shuddered. She had no doubt that Catriona Leslie meant exactly what she said, and could do exactly what she threatened. Christina did not love Patrick Leslie. He had merely been a refreshing change. She was not about to get into a fight with his countess over him. Just as long as the baby was taken care of, she would be satisfied. The earl may have confessed his infidelity to his wife, but Christina would wager he had not confessed to all the presents he had lavished on her. She chuckled. She had done quite well.

That evening Cat managed a few minutes alone in their rooms with her husband. “I have had a talk wi Mistress Anders,” she said calmly. The earl looked uncomfortable. “I told her,” continued his wife, “that the Leslies take care of their own, so we will see the child is taken care of, but she’s nae to see ye again.”

“Cat! Ye had no right to tell her that!”

She flew at him. “Damn ye, Patrick! I have been patient wi ye, and kind to yer highborn doxy, but I’ve nae intention of sharing ye wi yer whore!” She turned her back to him.

Putting an arm about her, he pulled her back against him and pushing her tawny hair aside, kissed the nape of her neck. “I’ve never intended spreading myself between two women,” he said gently, “and I hae no thought to involve myself wi Cairi again. But she is bearing my child. ’Tis a lonely time for her, sweetheart. Dinna be unkind. ’Tis nae like ye.”

“I was alone when I carried Jamie,” she answered him.

“Aye. But ye were safe in Fiona’s house wi Mrs. Kerr, and Sally. Ye were in yer own land, and anytime ye chose ye could have called on half a dozen people for aid. Cairi has none of these advantages. She is alone in a strange land, and in imminent danger of disgrace should her condition become known. I only mean to offer the hand of friendship should she need it. Nothing more.” He kissed the fetching little nape of his wife’s neck again, and one hand gently fondled a soft, round breast.

“Damn ye, Glenkirk,” she said through gritted teeth, but she turned and raised her face to him. His mouth found hers, and she felt her legs weaken. Bending, he scooped her up and deposited her on their bed. “No,” she sighed reluctantly at him. “We canna now. I am due back wi the queen.”

It was his turn to mutter, “Damn!” and she couldn’t resist a giggle. Struggling to her feet, she smoothed her skirts down and, smiling wickedly at him over her shoulder, left him to cool off.

Patrick Leslie chuckled deeply to himself. What a wench she was! She had kept him ensnared for twelve years. Though she was stubborn, independent, willful, and perhaps too intelligent for a woman, she had never bored him. She was still the most fascinating woman he had ever known. It never occurred to Patrick that the very qualities in her that distressed him were the ones that made her so interesting.

Thinking over the last few days, he realized how lucky he was. Cairi Anders had been a lovely diversion, though he was sorry she was pregnant At least she had made no scenes, and he was grateful to her for that. As to his wife, he sighed with relief. She could have made it very difficult for him, but she had not She had been unbelievably generous.

While Patrick Leslie thought about his wife, Cat was in the queen’s anteroom fending off the king. Struggling furiously, the Countess of Glenkirk yanked James Stewart’s hand out of her bodice. “Damnit, Jamie! Behave yerself!”

“'Tis hardly a warm welcome home ye gie me, Cat luv,” protested James.

Cat swept him a curtsy. “Welcome home, yer majesty,” she said coolly. “Now please allow me to pass, sire. I am already late for the queen.”

“When may I see ye?”

“Publicly at any time, sire. Privately, never! I would remind yer majesty that ye are a married man now, and I have always been a married woman.”

“Annie does nae pleasure me as ye do,” he said.

“Her majesty is still hardly more than a maid, Jamie. It is up to ye to teach her what pleases ye.”

“I am no schoolmaster,” he replied sulkily. “Now, madame, let us fix a time that we may be together.”

Catriona Leslie looked steadily at her king and her eyes were green ice. “In yer mother’s day the word of a Stewart was good,” she said cruelly.

Before he could reply the door to the queen’s bedroom opened, and Countess Olafson called, “Ah, Lady Leslie! There you are! The queen has been asking for you.”

Cat again curtsied to the king, but as she swept by she heard him say softly, “Ye’ll pay dearly for that remark, madame.”

T
HE Countess of Glenkirk had no time to ponder the king’s threatening remark. She was far too busy. The queen was to be crowned almost immediately. Her coronation robes, requiring many tiresome fittings, were all to be Scots-made. And then, too, Anna had to be taught the ceremony. Unfortunately, Anna of Denmark was not very bright Beautiful, innocent, charming, and generous she was. But she was also extravagant, empty-headed, silly, and hot-tempered.

Fortunately, Catriona Leslie had the patience needed to drill the queen. She also had wisdom enough to make a game of it so Anna would not become bored.