Virginia Henley (52 page)

Hepburn packed his bags, then he sat down and wrote a letter to Mr. Burke, reaffirming him as head steward. He set out clear instructions regarding various business matters he had put in motion and informed him that he had appointed David Hepburn to the position of steward with authority to proceed on the contracts that had been arranged between Spencer Park and the Crown.

He stood up, and his dark glance swept slowly about the chamber as if he were committing every detail to memory. Then he looked at the bed. “Good-bye, Hellcat.”

C
atherine opened her eyes and for a moment was startled to see Maggie in bed beside her. Then she remembered all that had happened yesterday and her spirits plummeted. She ignored the ache in her head that the whisky had induced, but it was impossible to ignore the far greater pain in her heart.

Maggie threw back the covers. “Ye need some food. I don’t believe ye ate one morsel yesterday.”

Cat was about to protest that on top of last night’s whisky, food would make her queasy, when she thought better of it. She would need breakfast to fortify her in case she again had to do battle with Hepburn this morning. Her resolve was firm. She intended to pack and leave no matter how much he protested.
My mind is made up. I shall refuse to remain under the same roof even if he gets down on bended knee and begs me to stay!

An hour later, Catherine, an elegant vision in peach velvet, tapped lightly on the bedchamber door. When she got no response, she sighed with relief and stepped inside. “Hepburn’s an early riser. Perhaps we can get everything packed while the insufferable lord of the manor is out.” She saw that the bed had not been slept in and hoped he had paced the floor all night.

She threw open her wardrobe doors, lifted out an armful of gowns and laid them on the bed. Maggie followed suit, and when all the garments had been removed, they started on the shoes, slippers and riding boots. Cat could not find her favorite cloak and remembered with a blush that the last time she and Patrick had returned from riding, they’d been in such haste to undress that they’d flung their clothes into his wardrobe. She walked into the adjoining chamber, noticed immediately that his strongbox was missing and felt a thrill of guilty satisfaction that she’d broken the lock and he’d had to take it for repair.

Cat opened his wardrobe and gasped. All his clothes were gone except the outfit he had worn when they were married. That he had left his wedding doublet behind was an insult in itself. She ran across the room to the tall chest of drawers and found it empty also. “He’s gone! The whoreson has beat me to it. Lord Bloody Stewart has left me before I could leave him!”

Maggie came to the adjoining doorway in disbelief. She saw the empty wardrobe and then she glanced up at Catherine’s knife, embedded in the doorframe.

“What went on here last night?”

“I stabbed him!”

Maggie’s face paled. “Ye stabbed the Border lord?”

Cat dug her fists into her hips defiantly. “I stabbed him and I’m glad I stabbed him! I’d stab him again if he were still here!” She stood on tiptoe and after a long struggle managed to dislodge the dagger. She carried it to her dressing table and returned it to its lovely amethyst-encased sheath.

Cat noticed that he had taken the abominable document as well as the jewels he had given her. Her eyes searched for a letter or a note that he might have left her, but there was nothing. Then she saw her gold wedding band. “The swine took my emerald betrothal ring but left my wedding ring!” She snatched it up and flung it across the room. When she saw Maggie bend down to retrieve it, she cried, “Leave it! Hepburn will be the one who must pick it up, or it will lie there forever!”

Catherine went downstairs and summoned Mr. Burke. “What time did Lord Stewart leave?”

“It was around one o’clock, my lady. He had injured his hand and I insisted on cleansing it before he left.”

Her conscience began to prick. “Did he leave me a message?”

“No, ma’am. He gave me a letter instructing me about Spencer Park business, then he spoke with David Hepburn.”

“May I see the letter, Mr. Burke?”

“Of course. It’s on the library desk, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Cat wanted to ask if he knew where Hepburn had gone and if he’d said when he might return, but she didn’t want Mr. Burke to know that her husband had not confided in her.

She went directly to the library, sat down at the desk and picked up the first page. Her fingers trembled slightly as she noticed a bloodstain beside his bold handwriting. Hepburn was reconfirming Burke as head steward of Spencer Park.
This must mean he’ll be gone some time.
She read through the pages of instructions, surprised at their detail. He’d promised to loan John Carey one of the wild colts for stud. In return, Spencer Park was to get a filly from one of the mares the colt covered.

Hepburn laid down what crops were to be planted in which fields. Some were to be left fallow for hay and others were to be used for grazing their longhorns.
He obviously intends to rule Spencer Park, even in his absence.

She read on, skimming over the various repairs and improvements that were to be made to the tenant farms, but the next words gave her pause: “Before I leave for Scotland, I intend to finalize contracts to supply the Crown with milk, cheese and beef. I have appointed David Hepburn as steward to oversee this lucrative business for Spencer Park.”
I assumed he’d gone to London, but the infuriating devil is returning to Scotland!

“Finally, after much consideration, I have decided not to use our English profits to pay for the sheep I am buying for Scotland. Crichton will bear the expense so that Spencer Park’s coffers will not be drained in the event that the enterprise fails.”

Damn him! He’s going to mortgage Crichton!
She looked up, sensing Mr. Burke’s presence. “Why did he change his mind about using money from Spencer Park?”

“Something to do with pride, I believe,” Burke said quietly.

Insufferable arrogance! Unbending pride! Towering insolence! I accused him of marrying me for my wealth, so now he won’t condescend to use my money.
Her fist clenched.
I swear before God to bring him low.

Catherine went back upstairs and found Maggie wrapping her gowns in tissue paper. “I’ve changed my mind about leaving. Hepburn has gone back to Scotland, and good riddance. It will give me a chance to enjoy living at Spencer Park on my own. How refreshing to be able to do whatever I wish without the lord and bloody master issuing his orders!”

Without a word, Maggie began to hang Catherine’s gowns back in the wardrobe.

“I’ll take care of all this. You go and have some lunch.” Cat bit her lip. “Listen to the servants’ gossip and see what they are saying about him in the kitchens.”

Patrick Hepburn had little trouble gaining audience with the new King of England in spite of the fact that there was a long waiting list of petitioners cooling their heels at Whitehall.

James had approved the contracts with Spencer Park that guaranteed the Royal Court be supplied with beef at a cost lower than that offered by any other bidder. “Ye have a shrewd head fer business, laddie. What new scheme have ye devised fer our mutual benefit?”

“Now that you are king of both England and Scotland, in theory the dividing line between the two countries has disappeared. You and I know in reality that is wishful thinking. Since your determination to unify our two countries is paramount, you will need a strong force to keep law and order in the Borders.”

“The lion and the unicorn
shall
lie down taegether, even if it means beating them intae submission,” James vowed. “Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, and Percy, Earl of Northumberland, have both pledged allegiance tae me and will enforce my laws in the north.”

“Percy and Clifford are Englishmen. Do you believe for one minute the Scots will obey them and lie down in submission? It cannot be one-sided if you are to achieve true cooperation. You will also need a strong Scottish force with an iron hand to achieve peace and quiet in the Borders—Scots with guts enough to hang Englishmen when necessary. I offer my Hepburn moss-troopers, Your Majesty, providing we can agree on a price, of course.”

“Wheesht, mon, ye couldna’ wait tae get here and now ye can no’ wait tae get back. Ye’ll miss my coronation!”

“I think you can manage without me, Sire,” he said dryly.

When Patrick left the king, he was pleased with himself. Jamie Stuart loved to haggle, but he could no longer cry poverty now that he was monarch of the wealthiest realm in Christendom, and he’d finally agreed to pay Hepburn a hefty price for his services. Moreover, James had signed a draft on the exchequer so Hepburn could draw the money as needed. Hepburn’s mouth curved with satisfaction. It would no longer be necessary to mortgage Crichton to buy the sheep he wanted.

Before Patrick left Court he sought out Philadelphia to tell her that he was returning to Scotland on business for the king.

She saw his bandaged hand. “Don’t tell me; let me guess. You and your beautiful bride are fighting like cat and dog again?”

Hepburn grinned. “A certain queen’s lady could not wait to taunt Catherine about a past indiscretion. But my wife has a sensible head on her shoulders. If left in solitude, she will soon get over her pique. When she gets lonely, she will likely come to Court. Will you keep an eye on her for me, Lady Scrope?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “You want me to keep her from taking a lover, I warrant. Do you trust me, Lord Stewart?”

“Of course I don’t, Philadelphia. It is Catherine I trust.”

“Cocksure devil!”

“I’m a Borderer—it’s the nature of the beast.”

When Hepburn left Whitehall, he made his way to the Pool of London, where more than a dozen Scottish ships lined the wharves. He booked passage for himself, Valiant and his packhorse to Berwick, the port closest to the Cheviot Hills, where they bred the heavy-fleeced Cheviot longwool sheep he wanted for Crichton.

At Spencer Park, Catherine enjoyed her newfound freedom for the first few days. Then loneliness crept up and crouched close by, waiting to pounce the moment she let her guard down.

She decided to accompany the groom who was taking the wild colt to John Carey’s horse farm. When Slate recognized her, he approached warily as if he were still ready to flee at the least sign of danger. As she slipped on the bridle, she rubbed his nose and whispered, “I’m glad there’s a small part of you that will always remain untamed.” Memories came flooding back, reminding her of the first time she’d seen the wild herd.
If only I could turn back the clock and relive that day!

When Cat arrived at Hunsdon Grange, she saw that Mary Carey was now swollen with the child she carried. “Oh, Mary, you look so beautiful. When is the baby due?”

“I know I look as if I’ll drop it any day, but I’ve still two more months to go. How about you? Any sign yet?”

“Mary, I’ve only been married six weeks.”

“That’s long enough. I’ve seen the way Patrick looks at you.”

Catherine could not bring herself to tell Mary that Hepburn had deserted her; it was too painful, too humiliating, too devastating. She made up an excuse and left as soon as she could.

As one day slowly merged into another, Catherine found that everything at Spencer Park reminded her of Hepburn. She took her meals downstairs with Maggie, in an attempt to keep at bay memories of the intimate dinners she’d shared with Patrick in their bedchamber.

Cat retired later and later each night because her rooms were haunted by his compelling presence. She began to dread the night and shun the dark. She lit the fire to keep off the darklings but could not dispel the cold and the loneliness. Each night as she lay in bed, aching with need, she repeated the same words, over and over, like a litany: “I hate, loathe and detest him!”

Hepburn bought a large flock of Cheviot longwool sheep. Over half of the five hundred ewes were in lamb. He paid for the services of two shepherds and their dogs to deliver the flock to Crichton. Patrick sent a message to Jock Elliot, telling him of the purchase and asking him to meet him in Kelso with a dozen moss-troopers. Though it was a distance of only twenty miles, he would take no chances with the valuable animals. The Borders were still inhabited by English reivers who were ready to steal the Scots blind, and vice versa, despite the fact that James Stuart now ruled both countries.

As always, the inhabitants of Crichton came out to welcome home their laird. When he entered the castle, the women greeted him with eager smiles, unable to conceal their curiosity. Finally his housekeeper put into words what all of them were thinking.

“I thought ye planned to bring a bride back to Crichton.”

Hepburn gave her a level look. “You were mistaken,” he said curtly. His tone clearly told them the subject was closed. The women naturally concluded that he was still unwed.