"You look like something ten years old instead of a woman about to gie birth," laughed Patrick, entering the room. "There's jam all over yer face. Yer bacon, madame." He gracefully swept the plate under her nose and set it down in front of her.
"Thank you, my lord." She grabbed a piece of the bacon and chewed it with relish.
"May I breakfast wi you, Cat?"
"If ye wish."
"Sally lass! Bring it in!"
Cat waited until Sally had departed before speaking.
"Rather sure of yerself, aren't ye, Patrick?"
"Damnit, Cat! Is this the way it's going to be? Always sniping?"
"Until ye gie me back what is mine, it is not going to be at all!" She took another bite of scone, and the butter ran down her little chin.
"Yer going to call my bluff, aren't ye, Cat?" He could barely keep the amusement out of his voice.
"Aye," she drawled, looking straight at him. "Would ye like to wager I'll win too?"
"What stakes, madame?"
"A-Cuil against a house in Edinburgh, but I get to choose it."
"If ye win, sweetheart."
"I will," she said, swooping up the last piece of bacon.
He laughed, enjoying her outrageous confidence. It was a side of her he hadn't seen before, and he liked it. "If," he said, "I can find a conveyance of some sort, will ye come out wi me today?"
"Yes! My size has hindered me, and I've been indoors all the last few weeks."
Benjamin Kira owned a sleigh imported from Norway. It was red, with a black-and-gold design, and pulled by two black horses. The earl settled Cat comfortably, tucking several fur robes about her, took the reins, and set off through the city.
Catriona Hay was a beautiful woman. There were enough admiring glances directed at the sleigh to annoy Patrick considerably, but his glowering looks were enough to discourage any gallants.
Cat was wrapped in a brown velvet cloak. The hood, trimmed in a wide band of soft dark sable, framed beautifully her creamy, heart-shaped face. Several tendrils of honey-colored hair escaped from beneath the hood, their rich dark gold lying in delicious contrast to the dark fur. Patrick cursed to himself. He was going to have to give in to her demands! It wasn't merely the question of his son's name. He loved this headstrong vixen, and if he allowed her to escape him again, he'd never get her back.
"I’m hungry, Glenkirk," she announced, breaking in on his thoughts.
"There's an excellent tavern on the edge of town, sweetheart I thought we'd stop there."
He drove the sleigh smartly into the courtyard of the Royal Scot and, leaping down, tossed the reins to a young fellow. Cat flung back the fur robes and allowed Patrick to lift her out. Because of the snow, he carried her into the inn before setting her on her feet.
"A private room, sir?" asked the landlord.
"Nay, mon. The common room will do us fine if it isna too crowded."
They were seated at a window table by the large fireplace. Patrick took her cloak. Beneath it she wore a deceptively modest loose brown velvet gown with a creamy lace ruff collar, and cuffs. A heavy gold and topaz chain relieved the severity of the gown. Her hair was loose.
The landlord brought them goblets of hot spiced wine without waiting to be asked.
"We'll eat," said the earl. "Bring us yer best."
They had drunk two goblets of the wine before the waiter arrived, staggering beneath his tray. The first course consisted of a bowl of shrimp, prawns, and oysters, boiled in a delicate herb sauce. There was fresh bread and butter, a dish of artichokes in vinegar and oil, and a salad of cabbage. Next came roast duck, crisp and brown with a sweet-and-sour lemon sauce, three standing ribs of rare beef, thin pink slices of lamb on a shallow platter with red wine and rosemary, a whole broiled trout, and flaky little pastries filled with minced venison, rabbit, and fruit. The third course was a large bowl of stewed pears and apples in clotted cream, sprinkled with colored sugar. This was accompanied by jellies, sugared nuts, and a large cheese. Lastly came wafers, and little glasses of hippocras. Cat, who had never been shy at the table, ate with a particular gusto that amused the earl. At last she said, "I'm sleepy, Glenkirk! Take me home."
He paid the bill and complimented the landlord on the excellence of the food and the service. Having tipped everyone, he tucked Cat again into the sleigh and drove home. When he had returned the sleigh to Benjamin Kira and come back, Sally informed him that her mistress had retired to her room. He climbed the stairs and knocked. She bade him enter. She had exchanged the brown velvet dress for a pale blue silk chamber robe. She lay on her bed.
"I am feeling very fat and full," she told him. "I intend sleeping the whole afternoon away." She reached up, drawing him down to the bed. "Thank ye, Patrick. I did enjoy our outing so!"
"So did I, love," he answered. He bent and kissed her gently.
She took his hand and placed it on her swollen belly. A look of incredulous delight lit up his face as he felt the child in her belly kick. She laughed.
"Aye, hinny! My Jamie's a strong and healthy bairn!"
She had said "my," not "our." Patrick was hurt, but he tried hiding it, and instead said lightly, "Our Jamie, Cat. He's my son too."
"Nay, my lord of Glenkirk. I told ye yesterday. The bairn is my son. Your bastard."
Patrick stood. "I'll let ye sleep," he said quietly, and left the room.
He was close to giving in, Cat knew, and she was using every trick to weaken him. She knew he wanted her, and not just for the child. She didn't mind his desiring her body, for she also desired his. But until he gave her back her rightful property and saw the error of his ways, there could be no living with him. She fell asleep wondering how long it would be before he conceded defeat.
While she slept, Patrick was learning a very interesting fact from his uncle. The abbot had spent the morning in the library awaiting the return of his niece and nephew. He was feeling quite pleased with himself. He thought his talks with Catriona had begun to bear fruit. When Patrick entered the library he asked, "Well, nephew! When do I perform the wedding?"
"Not yet, uncle. She's still not ready to have me."
"God's foot, mon! What does she want? Do ye understand her? For I am nae sure I do."
Patrick laughed. "I think I am beginning to understand her quite well. She does nae wish to be treated as a chattel."
"Nonsense!" snapped the abbot. "Of course women are chattel. Why, even the Protestant heretics agree wi that."
"Nevertheless," continued Patrick, "she wants to be treated as an equal, and she says that both A-Cuil and the investments that Grandmam left her should not have been included in her dowry. She wants them legally returned to her. She says she'll nae wed wi me until she gets them."
The abbot thought a minute, then spoke. "Mam believed that women needed a little something of their own, and she did see that all of her granddaughters, and the great-granddaughters born before she died, had both a bit of property and some financial investments. A mad idea! No judge would uphold such nonsense. If Greyhaven included A-Cuil and the investments in Cat's dowry, then they are, of course, yours."
Hearing his uncle's reasoning, Patrick suddenly saw the unfairness of it all. In a flash he understood Cat's anger. "I have promised," he said, "to return A-Cuil to her. Has she ever done anything wi her investments other than collect the dividends?"
"Greyhaven mentioned something about it to me once, but I'm nae sure what he was talking about. You would have to ask the Kir as."
"I hae full intention of doing so," replied Patrick, "but uncle, if ye wish my son born legitimate, say nothing to Cat of this conversation. I am going to see Benjamin Kira. If she asks for me when she wakes, say I've gone out walking."
But when Cat Hay awoke she wasn't thinking of Patrick. She was thinking of the pains sweeping over her. She struggled to gain her feet, but no sooner had she done so than a flood of water poured down her legs. She screamed. Within seconds, both Mrs. Kerr and Sally burst into the room. It took
but a moment for Mrs. Kerr to sum up the situation. She put a comforting arm about Cat
"Dinna fret, my lady. ‘Tis just the laddie deciding it's his time to be born. Sally, lass! Get some towels. Are ye in pain, my lady?"
"A little. The pains come and go."
"Rightly so," said Mrs. Kerr. "Sally! Go tell the abbot we'll need his help wi the table. Now, my lady, back into bed for the moment." She helped Cat back into the big bed.
Sally hurried downstairs to the library, where Charles Leslie dozed peacefully before the fire. Gently she shook his shoulder. "Sir! Sir!" Charles sleepily opened his eyes. "Mistress has gone into labor, sir. Mrs. Kerr and I will need yer help in carrying the birthing table."
The abbot was wide awake now. "Has the earl returned?"
"No, sir."
"Damnation!" swore the abbot. "I'll hae to run and fetch him."
Sally put a hand on his arm. "My lord, my little brother's in the kitchen. He'll go fetch the earl. There is plenty of time. First babies are always slow in coming."
"Gie the lad this," said Charles, handing Sally a copper. "There's a silver piece when he returns."
"Thank ye, m'lord. If ye'll wait here I’ll send the boy now."
She ran to the kitchen, where her ten-year-old brother sat spooning lamb stew into his mouth. "Here, Robbie. Run to Banker Kira's house in Goldsmith's Lane. Ask for the Earl of Glenkirk, and speak to no one else. Tell him his son is about to be born. If they dinna want to disturb the earl, tell them 'tis life and death." She gave him the copper. "And there's silver when ye come back!"
Clutching the copper, the boy grabbed his cloak, and ran.
At Benjamin Kira's home the Earl of Glenkirk sat sipping Turkish coffee and listening with growing amazement as the current head of the Edinburgh Kira family told him of Catriona Hay's financial acumen. "She's almost tripled her investment in the last two years," said Benjamin Kira.
"Surely ye tell her what to do," said Patrick.
"Not for the last two years, my lord. When she was twelve, she wrote and asked if I would instruct her in financial matters. I began simply, for I was not sure either that she was serious or that she had the intellect for it. The more I taught her, the more she wanted to know. She absorbed all I told her, and comprehended everything. Two years ago she began handling her own affairs. For about six months she would consult me before she made a move, but since then she has taken full charge. She's clever, my lord, very clever. I don't mind telling you in confidence that I have been following her lead myself, and a pretty penny I have made!"
Patrick Leslie swallowed hard. "Are ye telling me, Benjamin, that when Lady Catriona has instructed ye regarding her investments, ye hae followed her advice regarding yer own?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Did ye know that the Master of Greyhaven turned over Lady Catriona's investments to me last year when the wedding date was set?"
"I did not know, my lord. We were not notified here in Edinburgh. Lady Hay has been continuing to handle her own funds, especially since she has been here in town."
"And she will continue to do so, Benjamin. Your, brother, Abner, is a lawyer, is he not?"
"Yes, my lord."
"If he is here, I want to immediately draw up a paper legally returning Lady Hay's possessions to her. And Benjamin, she is never to know that I questioned you about her handling of the funds. I will be frank wi ye my friend. Lady Hay will shortly bear my child, and she refuses to wed wi me as was arranged years ago, unless I return her property. Naturally I'd nae hae the next Glenkirk born a bastard, but she is a stubborn lass, and neither my uncle the abbot nor I can move her."
"I'll send for my brother and his clerk immediately, my lord. You may trust my discretion. Women, at best, are unpredictable. Women about to give birth, however, are downright dangerous. It is best to just give in gracefully."
While they waited for the lawyer, young Robbie was shown into the room. "This boy," said the servant, "claims he must see the earl on a matter of life and death."
"Well, lad," said the earl kindly.
"I'm Robbie Kerr, Sally's brother. Her ladyship is having the bairn now."
"Jesu!" swore Patrick. "Is it born yet?"
"Nay, sir," said the boy calmly. "She's just begun her labor."
"Yer remarkably well informed for a lad of nine? Ten?" The earl was amused.
"Ten, sir. And I should be well informed. There's six after me."
"Your mother's to be commended, young Robbie," said Benjamin Kira.
"Nay, sir. Me mum died birthin' me. 'Tis my stepmother who had the six after me."
The earl paled and, noting it, Benjamin Kira said to him, "I'll send my wife back with the boy. She's a mother three times. She'll find out how far along your lady is. Don't worry, my lord. These first births are always long. You have plenty of time."
As Abner Kira and his clerk entered the room, Benjamin and the boy went to find Benjamin's wife. Husband and wife conferred in a language unfamiliar to Robbie. It sounded a bit like the Gaelic he'd heard spoken occasionally. Mistress Kira turned her lovely brown eyes on Robbie. "Well, laddie. Come along, and lead me to his lordship's house," she said.
Sally let them in, for Robbie took Mistress Kira to the front door. "I am Master Benjamin Kira's wife. His lordship sent me to see how his lady does."
Sally curtsied. "If you'll pray be seated, ma'am, I'll go fetch my aunt. She is wi her ladyship now."
When Mrs. Kerr came down the stairs she fussed, "Och, Sally has left you in the hallway. Come into the back parlor, and have a glass of cordial."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kerr," smiled Anna Kira, "but I must hurry back. His lordship, like most first-time fathers, is frantic. How does his lady?"
"He need not worry. Everything is proceeding normally. She'll nae deliver for hours yet."
"I think he'll be home long before," said Mistress Kira gently.
The two women looked at each other, their faces registering their understanding of the ways of men. They laughed. Retorting quickly to her own home, Anna Kira reassured the earl that Cat was fine.
By this time, Abner Kira had composed the document which made Catriona Mairi Hay Leslie, Countess of Glenkirk, sole owner in her own right of A-Cuil, and of the investments left to her by Janet Leslie. The document, written in duplicate, was signed by Patrick Leslie, Earl of Glenkirk, and witnessed by both Benjamin and Abner Kira. One copy was to be kept permanently in the Kira vaults. The earl took the other with him.
He hurried through the snowy twilight, the document clutched beneath his cloak. She would wed him now. She had to!
"Not yet," smiled Sally as she let him in and took his cloak.
"My uncle?"
"In the library, sir."
He moved swiftly down the hall and into the library. "Come, Uncle Charles, get what ever ye need to marry us. I've done what Cat asked, and I'm going up to her now." He was out the door before the abbot could speak. He ran up the stairs, two at a time, and burst into Cat's bedroom.
A long table, slanted to one end, stood before the fireplace. It was covered in muslin sheets. Cat sat upon it, propped up with pillows. The earl looked around, astounded.
"Birthing is a bloody business, my lord. I dinna believe in ruining a perfectly good mattress and feather bed," said Mrs. Kerr.
Patrick walked over to Cat and stood before her. Without a word, he handed her the rolled parchment. She broke the seal, unrolled it, and read it through. Her eyes closed for a moment as pain swept through her. Then, raising tear-filled eyes to him, she said softly, "Thank ye, Patrick."
"Catriona Hay, we've been pledged for over twelve years. Our child is being born at this very minute. Say ye'll wed me now." He stopped, and grinned. "Besides, this document is made out to Catriona Mairi Hay Leslie, the Countess of Glenkirk. Ye must wed me to get yer property back!"
"Patrick," she asked. "Ye hae returned my property, 'tis true. But has yer attitude changed? How do ye see me?"
It was a tricky question, and h
e knew that their fates and that of their child depended on his careful answer. "I see ye," he said slowly, "first, as Cat Hay-a competent and lovely woman. I hope to see ye also as my wife, as my mistress, as my friend, and as the mother of our children. Ye are nae one woman, sweetheart, yer many! Some of whom I've yet to meet."
"Patrick." She smiled at him through her pain. "I do believe ye are beginning to understand me. It canna hae been easy for ye. Thank ye."
She was going to accept. He was sure of it, and felt relief sweeping over him.
"Yes, my lord… my love… my dear friend, and dearer enemy!" She squeezed his hand. "I will honor the contract between us, and wed wi ye."
On cue, the abbot bustled in, carrying his portable altar. "Well, niece! No more foolishness! If ye'll nae speak yer vows yerself, I'll be forced to speak them for ye. I should hae thought of that months ago. I dinna suppose ye can stand at this point?"
"There is no need to threaten me, uncle. I will marry Patrick, but not for another five minutes. If ye'll both leave, I wish to dress for my wedding." She winced, and said to Sally, "The ruby-red velvet dressing gown. Ohhhh, Jesu!" The men left quickly.
Sally was worried. "The pains are much closer now, my lady. I dinna think ye can stand."
"Just for a few minutes. I will not be married lying down on a birthing table!" Another spasm shot through her.
Sally helped Cat out of her chamber robe and into the heavy velvet dressing gown, as Mrs. Kerr slipped out into the hall. "Say the words quickly, my lord abbot. Her labor has increased suddenly. The next Glenkirk will be born in a very short time."
Charles nodded. Sally stuck her head out the door and called. "Mistress wants the ceremony in the parlor by the fireplace."
While Mrs. Kerr and the abbot blustered disapproval, Patrick strode back into the bedroom. Cat stood shakily in her ruby-red velvet dressing gown. Her long, heavy hair was plaited and pinned up. held fast with gold and pearl pins. He did not miss the pain in her eyes. His arms were around her. Neither said a word. Picking Cat up, he walked into the hall and carefully down the stairs to the main parlor. The abbot, Mrs. Kerr, and Sally followed.
Charles Leslie opened his prayer book and began. Patrick and Cat stood before him, Cat holding Glenkirk's hand very tightly. He knew each time she experienced a contraction, for her grip tightened. He marveled at her strength.
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