Until You

by Bertrice Small

  The king nodded. “You may expect him here at court, Patrick, when he finds the lass gone, I have not a doubt. Hepburns are not noted for giving up easily. And he will have his cousin Bothwell plead his case for him, as well.”

  “Rosamund is English, and you cannot order her to wed with this man,” the Earl of Glenkirk said quietly. “Can you?”

  “Such will be my defense, but Meg will undoubtedly become involved in the matter. My wee English wife is a romantic, a discovery I find astounding in a Tudor. Rosamund will have to confide in my queen or Meg will not be silent or rest in her quest to gain her dear friend another husband. The queen believes that no woman can be truly happy, or even content, without a lawful mate. In that mood she becomes dangerous, Patrick. Your affair may become public knowledge.”

  “Perhaps it will be better if it does,” the earl said thoughtfully. “The better to deter the queen, the Earl of Bothwell, and this Hepburn of Claven’s Carn. But I must consult with Rosamund first. She is not a woman to be surprised in matters that are important to her.”

  “Ah, to be in love once again,” the king chuckled. “You are a fortunate man! I have not felt that way since Margaret Drummond.”

  “I am,” the Earl of Glenkirk agreed with a smile.

  The two men were seated companionably in the king’s privy chamber at Stirling Castle. Settled before a roaring fire, handleless silver drinking vessels containing peat whiskey cupped between their hands, they talked on into the night, while the king was thought to be with his mistress.

  “A French vessel will ferry you across the sea to France,” the king said. “From there you will travel by land to San Lorenzo. I would not risk your life at this time of year crossing the Bay of Biscay. With a woman, however, it may take you longer than I had anticipated,” James Stewart considered.

  “Rosamund is a country girl, as is her servant. A coach with all its accoutrements would but attract someone’s attention. We will ride. My lass has said she wanted adventure in her life after all those years of doing her duty.” Patrick chuckled. “This will surely be an adventure for her.”

  “And her clothing and all the gewgaws so dear to a woman’s heart?” the king wondered aloud.

  “We will carry what we need, and I shall have an entire new wardrobe made for her when we arrive,” the earl said.

  “I will be interested to see if your lady is so eager for adventure when you tell her that,” the king remarked with a broad grin.

  “She will come,” the earl said quietly. “We cannot be parted yet.”

  “We will talk again before you leave, Patrick,” the king told Glenkirk. “Go and find your bed, as I am going to find mine.”

  The two men arose from their places by the fire, shook hands, and went their separate ways. James Stewart to visit his current mistress, Isabel, and the Earl of Glenkirk to find his Rosamund.

  Rosamund had decided that her chamber with its small fireplace was a better space for she and the earl to inhabit. Annie had been banished to the dormitory shared by many of the young servant women. When a tiring woman who usually shared her mistress’ bed appeared in those quarters it was always assumed her mistress had taken a lover. Annie had been warned by her mistress to be discreet, but she kept her ears open for any tidbit of gossip that might be of interest or use to Rosamund.

  Rosamund was sleeping when the earl entered her room. He quietly divested himself of his garments, and after climbing into bed, drew her into his arms, kissing the nape of her neck as he did so. She murmured a sound of distinct contentment, and he whispered in her ear, “Are you awake, lovey? I have news.” One hand moved to cup a breast, and he caressed it tenderly.

  “What news?” she asked him softly, and she ground her hips into his body suggestively.

  “You’re a bad lass,” he teased her, his lust being aroused at a fierce pace. What was this sorcery she possessed to do that to him, and at his age?

  “Because I want to fuck?” she queried, turning about to face him, pulling off her chemise as she did. Her arms slipped about his neck, and her round, full breasts pressed against his broad chest.

  He yanked her against him by her buttocks. “Because your delicious little body and your eagerness set me aflame as no other woman ever has, my Rosamund,” he told her. “Because now that you have caught my fancy in this manner, I shall have to satisfy us both before I share my news with you, you wicked wench!” His mouth found hers in a hot kiss, demanding, insisting, and she returned his ardor. “You know I love you, sweetheart, don’t you?” he said breaking off their kiss.

  “Aye, my lord, I do. And you will not be surprised to learn that I return your lordship’s passion. I am mad for you, Patrick! I feel as if my whole life has been leading up to this moment in time. How in the name of God is that possible? I loved Hugh, for he was a father to me. I loved Owein, for he loved me and Friarsgate. But this is different. This lunacy has naught to do with Friarsgate. It is only us! I could stay in this chamber with you forever!”

  He lay her back against their pillows and covered her small body with his big one, the fingers of their hands intertwined as had become their custom. Their eyes met as he entered her, and she sighed deeply. He stopped all motion for a brief time, enjoying her as she absorbed his size with such pleasure it almost brought him to tears. Then he began to move upon her again, and finally her eyes closed and she sighed once more as he brought them to passionate perfection.

  “Oh, Patrick, I love you so very much! Perhaps too much,” she admitted when she once again came to herself, her head upon his chest.

  “I wonder,” he replied, “if we can ever love enough, let alone too much.” His big hand stroked her auburn tresses. “Your hair is so soft.”

  “Annie thinks me mad, for I insist it be washed weekly.

  She says it is a wonder I have not caught my death of cold, putting my head in water so much,” Rosamund said.

  “Is she very angry at being banished?” Patrick asked.

  “I think she actually likes the company of the other servingwomen,” Rosamund replied.

  “Do you think she would like to travel, my love?” he queried casually.

  “I don’t know,” Rosamund responded. “Why?”

  “I am of a mind to spend the winter in a warmer climate. I want you to go with me, Rosamund,” the Earl of Glenkirk said quietly.

  “Which means crossing the sea in the worst weather,” she noted. Then she said, “Do not treat me as you would some foolish lass, Patrick.”

  He understood at once and told her, “It is for the king, lovey. I can say no more now, which I know you will comprehend. Even saying that much, I put my fate in your two little hands, Rosamund.”

  “Why would you say that?” she wondered.

  “Because you were once King Henry’s mistress,” he answered bluntly.

  “How on earth did you learn that? Only Tom and Annie know. It had to be a servant. Not mine I hope! Nay. It is not Annie, or you would not have asked me if she liked to travel, since you expect her to come with me. And having learned this fact, your king fears that I will betray you. Please tell me that Meg does not know.”

  “Nay. Nor Queen Katherine, either,” he reassured her.

  “I did not seek to attract Hal,” Rosamund began. “But he would have me, willing or nay. For my family’s sake I acquiesced as graciously as I could, Patrick. There was no real love between us, and while I am loyal to England, I do not believe whatever you do in your king’s service will harm my country. King James appears to be a man of great intellect and peace. I know Henry Tudor well enough to know he is ambitious and vain. He has a bad habit of always making it appear that God is on his side alone. It would be amusing if it were not so dangerous. I would not under any circumstances betray you, my lord,” she concluded.

  “I know that,” he told her, and then he kissed her mouth again. “You will come with me, my Rosamund?”

  “I will come with you, Patrick Leslie, for where you are, my heart is, I fe
ar,” she responded.

  “And what of Logan Hepburn?” he queried her.

  “Logan needs a son and an heir. He should have married long ago but that he has this fancy for a child he saw at a cattle fair when he was sixteen. I was the child he saw, but I am no longer a child. Nor do I wish to be married because I am considered good breeding stock,” Rosamund told the earl.

  “A man expects—is entitled to—children on his wife’s body,” the earl said quietly.

  “I will not disagree,” she answered him, “but that and his silly story seem to be his whole rationale for wanting to marry me. He says he loves me, but does he really? I don’t know, but I will not take the chance of marrying him to discover that it is only my fecundity that attracts him. I have never known love, Patrick, until you. I will not give that up for what is considered a respectable marriage. I won’t!”

  “We might marry, you and I,” he said softly.

  “Only when you are ready to give up your Glenkirk, and I, Friarsgate,” she replied with a small smile.

  “How can you know me so well on such short acquaintance?” he chuckled.

  “And you me,” she responded. “Ohh, Patrick! I do not care what anyone else may think. I love you! I do not need to be your wife; nor do you need to offer me the honor of your name for me to know that you love me. From the moment our eyes met, we knew it was so.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “It was, sweetheart.”

  “When are we to depart court?” she asked him.

  “After Twelfth Night,” he said. “It will be thought that I have returned home to Glenkirk, as I am not a man of the court. Your departure must be considered a return home, as well, Rosamund. Will it be difficult for you to take your leave of the queen?”

  Rosamund was thoughtful for a few moments, and then she said, “Aye, but I will tell her one of my daughters has taken ill and Maybel has sent for me. She will accept that, although I know she will be disappointed. She wanted me to remain with her until her child was born. She fears so that she cannot give her husband a son.”

  “The king’s lang eey tells him the child will be a healthy lad. He frets that he will not live to see the boy grown,” the earl noted.

  “Then I need not feel so guilty about my wee lie,” Rosamund said.

  “And your cousin Lord Cambridge? A most amusing fellow, but very astute beneath his droll wit, I think,” Patrick said.

  “Tom is clever, but I will have to tell him the entire truth of the matter. He is the best friend I have ever had, and no one, not even my husbands, have been as good to me as Thomas Bolton has. Frankly, he will be very disappointed not to be invited along with us,” Rosamund chuckled. “However, I will need him to return to Friarsgate to explain to my uncles and to Maybel where I have gone and why. I will need him there to watch over my lasses and wield my authority in my absence. My uncle Henry may still have hopes of gaining Friarsgate through one of his sons. Edmund could not prevent his mischief, but my darling Lord Cambridge certainly can. I need not fear to return home eventually to discover my Philippa wed to one of my wretched cousins, as long as Tom is there to watch over her.” She leaned forward and gave her lover a quick kiss. “I shall feel very guilty about leaving Tom behind. He is a most amusing traveling companion.”

  “Yet I prefer that our idyll be more private than familial,” the earl said.

  “Will Glenkirk be all right while you are gone so far? Will you tell your son?”

  “Adam is a man grown. He is a little bit older than you are, my darling love. He has a sound head on his shoulders, and as Glenkirk will one day be his, it is past time he handled its responsibilities on his own.” He drew her closer into his embrace, his lips brushing the top of her head.

  “Is he a married man?” Rosamund asked.

  “Aye, though why he wed with Anne MacDonald I will never know. They met at the Highland games one summer. She was young and pretty. She knew he was an earl’s heir, and he was vulnerable to her flattery. Adam is much like his mother, though he never knew my sweet Agnes. He is kind and gentle. His saving grace is that he has a Leslie’s head for common sense. Nonetheless, he is not at all like me. He had no lasses mooning after him, and so Anne easily captured his innocent heart. The family was a good one. I had no cause to deny the match. So they wed. Only afterwards he discovered he had married a shrew. She fears me, however, and so my son’s life has not been intolerable. Oddly, I sometimes feel sorry for Anne, and God knows she has done her duty. I have two fine grandsons and a wee granddaughter born just last year and named after Adam’s mam, the sweet Agnes. She’s a bonnie little lass, not in the least like her mother. Anne is content letting her daughter be looked after by her nursemaid. I expect my daughter-in-law will very much enjoy being in charge while I am away,” the earl finished with a small grin.

  “Then neither of us need fear for our lands and our families while we are in San Lorenzo,” Rosamund said.

  “We have earned this time together, sweetheart,” he answered her, and he enfolded her closely in his arms. “Let us sleep now. Tomorrow we must begin planning. We can take little with us, as once we reach France we must ride the rest of the way. A coach and all that goes with it would attract the interest of those who earn their livings selling information. A small party of horsemen will not. Do you mind riding so great a distance?”

  “Nay,” she answered. “I think perhaps it would be best if I dressed in boy’s clothing, and Annie, too. It would be easier, and it would attract even less attention.”

  He nodded. “Aye, lass, it would. Can you ride astride?”

  “I certainly can!” she laughed. “Even in skirts, my lord. Do you think I shall make a pretty boy in trunk hose and doublet?”

  He chuckled. “Aye. Perhaps too pretty. Now, go to sleep, Rosamund. The morning will come quickly enough, and you are expected at mass with the queen.”

  She lay against his chest, the beat of his heart beneath her ear, the comforting rhythm of his breathing lulling her to slumber. When she finally awoke he was gone, and Annie was bustling about their chamber. It was still dark outside Rosamund saw, so she was not late. She yawned and stretched. “Good morrow, Annie,” she said.

  “Good morning, my lady,” Annie replied. “The earl has gone already, and he says he will see you later. He also says you are to speak to me. Oh, my lady, I hope I have not displeased him, or you, again!” Annie’s face bore all the hall-marks of her distress.

  “Nay, you have displeased neither of us.” Rosamund sat up in her bed. “Put a bit more wood on the fire, Annie, and bring me a basin to wash myself.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, shivering as she came from beneath the shelter of the coverlets and her feet touched the cold stone floor.

  Annie handed her mistress the chamber pot, and Rosamund peed. Then she washed herself as thoroughly as she might using a flannel and the little basin. She longed for her daily bath, but the servants at Stirling grudged her even her weekly ablutions, grumbling as they brought up the water to fill her little oak tub. But they dared not deny her, for they knew the Englishwoman was the queen’s dear childhood friend.

  “What will you wear today, my lady?” Annie asked.

  “Give me the tawny orange velvet,” Rosamund said. “Tom always likes me in that gown, although I wonder if the gold embroidery isn’t perhaps too showy.”

  “ ’Tis beautiful, my lady. I’ll fetch it from the trunk and see the wrinkles smoothed out.” She bustled about the room as Rosamund climbed back into the warm bed.

  “I would speak with you privily, Annie,” Rosamund began. “I have never enjoyed having my life decided for me by others, and so I will share a confidence with you that you may choose what it is you will do. I am going away with Lord Leslie, Annie. I would like you to come with us. No one is to know. They are to believe that each of us has returned to our own homes. If you choose not to accompany me, I shall see you safely returned to Friarsgate with Lord Cambridge, and I shall not hold it against you. But however you d
ecide, you can say nothing to anyone of what I have just told you. Do you understand, Annie? No one must know.”

  Annie was more than surprised by her mistress’ speech. She drew a deep breath and asked, “Will we be going back to Friarsgate ever, my lady?” The velvet gown in her hands felt very heavy.

  Rosamund laughed softly. “Annie,” she chided the servant, “you know I should not leave my girls. And Uncle Henry so close by?” She laughed again. “Why, all three should find themselves wed to my uncle’s odious sons if I were to desert them. And there is Friarsgate itself. I love it so! I gain my strength from Friarsgate. I must always eventually go home, Annie.”

  Annie nodded slowly. “When would we come back?” she queried.

  “I don’t know, but I suspect in a few months’ time. No more,” Rosamund responded. “We just want a little time together before we must part again.”

  “Why don’t you just wed the earl?” Annie questioned her lady. “Begging your pardon, mistress. I do not mean to be forward, but I do not understand.”

  “The Earl of Glenkirk can no more abandon his home than I could forsake Friarsgate, Annie. Were my lasses not so young I might consider a union with him, but they are too young for me to leave.”

  Annie nodded again, understanding, but not quite understanding. She lay the orange tawny gown out on the chamber’s single chair. “Where would we go?”

  “Across the sea,” Rosamund replied simply.

  “Across the sea? I ain’t ever been on any boat, my lady!” Annie exclaimed.

  “Neither have I,” Rosamund chuckled. “It will be quite an adventure for us.”