Love Wild and Fair

by Bertrice Small

  There was the sound of a slap, and Bess shrieked, "Ye hit me, Jamie. Ye hit me!"

  "Aye," Jamie replied. "And, Mistress Jealousy, I'll smack ye again if ye ever speak of mother like that. We know naught of what happened between mother and father, but I do know that mother loves Francis Hepburn. She has come back because she loves us too, and would nae allow the king to destroy us."

  "How do ye know that?" sneered Bess.

  "Because John Leslie, the Rothes heir, is at University wi me, and he overheard his father telling his uncle that Glenkirk only got his wife back because the king threatened to destroy our whole family unless she left Bothwell."

  "Good for the king!" gloated Bess. "He is a godly man."

  Jamie laughed cruelly. "Yer a fool, little sister. Nay, perhaps just a foolish little virgin. The king lusts after mother, and when she refused him he forced her to leave Bothwell by threatening us."

  "Then why does she hae father's child if she doesna love him?"

  "To make peace between them, I would think, little sister. She is a brave and bonnie lady, our mother, and if ye are not civil to her in future I'll beat ye myself!"

  Cat was amazed at how much her son knew and how wise he was at his age. She could also see that she would have to keep an eye on Bess. The child was growing quickly, and understood enough half-truths to be confused. Cat knew that her daughter's angry opinions were not her own, but were echoes of an adult voice. Suspecting the offender's identity, Cat took steps to remedy the situation.

  When Cat had fled to Lord Bothwell, her faithful tiring woman had not known the reason for her mistress' behavior. Returned to Glenkirk, Ellen had taken care of Bess from the busy Sally and Lucy Kerr. As the months went by with no word from Cat, Ellen's confusion turned to anger. She unwisely expressed her anger to young and impressionable Bess. And now, with her lady's return, Ellen deserted Bess and resumed her duties with Cat, thus adding to poor Bess' bitterness.

  Cat could see that Bess missed Ellen, and though Ellen had always been valuable to her, her over-solicitous attention had begun to get on Cat's nerves. Ellen seemed to think that Cat had done a terrible thing, and was fortunate that Patrick forgave her. Rather than scold her old servant, Cat took her aside and spoke to her confidentially. "Ellie, I am going to need yer help wi Bess. She is getting to the age where she needs an experienced hand to guide her. Ye looked after her while I was away. Would ye mind taking charge of her again? She is so fond of ye."

  "I will do whatever ye wish, but who will take care of ye, my chick? Especially in yer condition."

  "Ellie! Ye've become a foolish old woman.’Tis not my first bairn. I canna replace ye, but I think yer niece, Susan, would do nicely."

  "Aye," said Ellen thoughtfully, thinking of her plain and sensible niece. "Susan is nae a flibbertigibbety girl. She would do her job well, and I will guide her. But could she not be Mistress Bess' woman rather than me?"

  "I think that Bess would be happier wi ye, Ellie, and ye were so good wi me at that age. However, I will leave the decision to ye."

  Ellen decided-as Cat knew she would-that Bess would be a better mistress. It was easy to boss a young and unsure girl, and she no longer understood her lady Catriona. Feeling important once again, Ellen took charge of Bess and spoke well of Cat to her daughter.

  Cat made certain to spend time with her three daughters. Amanda and Morag had lost their shyness of their mother, which gave Cat joy. Bess, though she remained wary, was friendlier than she had been, and even joined in games Cat played with the little ones.

  Eight months after her return to Patrick Leslie, Cat Leslie went into labor. "‘Tis too soon," worried the earl to his mother. "I'm surprised she's lasted this long," observed Meg. "Dinna look so worried, my son. By nightfall there will be at least two more Leslies in this house. Cat is carrying twins, and multiple births always deliver early. I know because my mother's last children were twins. They run in our family."

  The dowager countess was correct. Cat easily and quickly delivered a son and a daughter before the sun set on May 1 of 1594. The boy was baptized Ian, the girl Jane. Patrick was delighted that his wife had so thoughtfully named their children after his paternal grandparents. Cat cradled each child before she slept, and then quietly announced that she would not be nursing these children. Wet nurses were quickly found for the twins.

  In mid-June Patrick Leslie was visited by Benjamin Kira, and the result was a journey to London. Thinking she would enjoy the trip, he asked Cat to go with him. She refused.

  "I'll be gone from late summer till next spring, sweetheart. Please come wi me. We've been back together such a short time."

  "No, Patrick. Ye promised him that before he left Scotland we might see each other. If I am in England wi ye when he calls me, I will never see him again. Dinna ask me to go away wi ye again."

  He did not, though it pained him to admit that he was saddened by her refusal. He had hoped the birth of their twins would help her to forget the border lord. On August 15, Patrick Leslie left Glenkirk bound for London.

  On September 15 the Countess of Glenkirk received an invitation from George Gordon, the powerful Earl of Huntley, to visit him and his wife at Huntley Castle. Gossip had it that Bothwell was in the north. If he was, then Cat knew he would be with the Gordons. On September 17 the Countess of Glenkirk left her castle for Huntley.

  Chapter 35

  THE truce between James Stewart and Francis Stewart-Hepburn had not worked out. Though the king had signed an agreement on August 14, 1593, to pardon his noble cousin and his equally noble supporters, and to restore all their estates, titles, and honors, he was soon tempted to go back on his word. On September 8, a convention of parliament was held at Stirling, and James attempted to modify the promises he had made in August. On September 22, the king forbade his cousin and his supporters to come within ten miles of him unless summoned by James himself. Should they disobey, the charge against them would be high treason. Maitland's power had not waned.

  The royal gauntlet thrown down, it was picked up by Bothwell and armed friends. They assembled outside Linlithgow in early October while the king was in residence. On October 22, Bothwell was called before the high council to answer to the charge of high treason. Refusing to attend the proceedings, he was denounced.

  All was quiet for several months, and then in the spring of 1594 James called twice for a levy of forces to bring his cousin to the king's justice. Suddenly Bothwell appeared with a powerful force outside of Leith. He had come, he said, to fight the Spaniards, whose imminent landing was rumored. His real purpose was to make a show of strength, in hope of bringing his royal cousin to terms.

  James advanced towards Leith from Edinburgh while Bothwell retreated in leisure towards Dalkeith, as though he were not being pursued at all. James was forced to go back to Edinburgh, having lost yet another encounter with his cousin. The border lord then slipped over the border into England, where he remained, quietly, until Queen Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge his presence and eject him.

  Francis Hepburn now had two choices. He could deliver himself up to James, or he could join with the northern earls. Sensing that exile was near, he went north so he could see Cat before leaving his homeland. There was no one else left he cared to see. Hercules had been caught and hanged in the previous bitter February. Margaret Douglas and his children behaved as if he did not exist. Only Cat Leslie remained. Would she see him?

  No one had told Cat so, but she knew intuitively that he waited at Huntley for her. Gathering her daughters about her, she told them she would be gone for a while. "But I'll be back, my little loves," she promised, "and then I'll nae leave ye again."

  When Amanda and Morag had run off to play, Bess, now twelve, asked quietly, "Is Lord Bothwell at Huntley, mother?"

  Cat's first reaction was to tell her daughter it was none of her business. But then she looked again at Bess, who hovered between childhood and womanhood, and thought better of it. The countess put an arm about her eldest d
aughter. "Yes," she said. "I believe that Lord Bothwell is at Huntley. Dinna be angry, Bess. Yer father gave me his permission to see Francis. Someday ye'll love a man. Perhaps then, Bess, ye'll understand yer mother."

  "I shall ne'er love any man but my true, wedded lord, mother."

  Cat laughed softly and squeezed her daughter gently. "How wonderful to be so young, and so positive, my darling. I hope that in my absence ye will help yer grandmother, and watch over yer sisters and the twins."

  Bess Leslie looked at her mother for a moment, and then she clung to her. "Ye'll nae go away wi Lord Bothwell? Ye will come home? Ye'll nae leave us forever?"

  "No, my child. I will be back." A lump rose in her throat. "I will come back to ye, Bessie luv. Dinna fear."

  Before Cat left Glenkirk, Margaret Leslie took her daughter-in-law aside. "My son did a cruel and terrible thing to ye, Catriona. Go-say your final goodbyes to Francis Hepburn. Take whatever time ye need. But when ye return to Glenkirk, ye must again be a good wife to Patrick. He has been punished enough."

  Now the beautiful Countess of Glenkirk rode eagerly across the hills that separated her home from Huntley. Ellen had wanted to come with her, saying that her niece had not the experience to accompany her mistress to a great house. Cat had cajoled her into staying with Bess, saying the young girl needed Ellen more than she did. The truth was that the countess did not want her old servant intruding on her reunion with Lord Bothwell. Susan was young and unsure enough to be discreet.

  At last the towers of Huntley Castle came into view, and Cat's heart began pounding. Conall rode up beside her. "I dinna suppose ye'll want us to stay," he said disapprovingly.

  ."No," she answered him. "I dinna need Leslie protection in the house of the Gordons. My grandmother was a Gordon."

  " 'Twas nae the Gordons I was thinking ye needed protection from, madame."

  She smiled at him. "I dinna need any protection from my Lord Bothwell, Conall. Rather, he may need it from me."

  Conall laughed despite himself. He had long ago given up hope of understanding his nobles. It only confused him to try.

  They clattered into the courtyard of Huntley, where George Gordon and his lovely French wife, Henriette, awaited them. Having dismounted, Cat greeted them warmly, but her eyes were restlessly sweeping the courtyard. Lord Gordon laughed. "He got here about two hours ago, Cat, and insisted on having a bath. I doubt if he is ready to receive ye yet."

  But suddenly she saw him at the top of the staircase. For a moment they gazed at one another, spellbound. Cat took a few steps forward, but then her legs refused to cooperate further, and began to give way beneath her. He was at her side in seconds, catching her up in his strong arms, his deep-blue eyes devouring her. Her arms went around his neck as he bent and found her mouth. Everything-the courtyard, the horses, the servants, the Gordons-melted away as they abandoned themselves to each other. Hungrily, eagerly, their lips demanded more and yet more.

  It was Henriette Gordon who broke the spell by turning to her husband and saying, "But George! You did not tell me that Lady Leslie and Lord Bothwell knew each other. I have given them apartments at opposite ends of the castle."

  Francis Hepburn broke away from Cat, and both of them burst into laughter. "Oh, George," teased the Countess of Glenkirk, "how could ye hae overlooked even such a small detail?"

  Huntley looked rueful. Bothwell gently put Cat down on her feet. "Can ye stand now, my darling?" he asked.

  "Aye, Francis. 'Tis all right now."

  The border lord turned to his pretty hostess and, taking her plump little hand, smiled down at her. "Which of the two apartments is the larger, Riette?"

  "Lady Leslie's. I thought-with a woman's clothes and things-she would need the large suite." The Countess of Huntley was flustered by the turn of events.

  "Will ye then," said Lord Bothwell with grave courtesy, "please hae my things moved in with Lady Leslie's? We shall, after all, be needing only one bed." He turned to his host. "George, ye will excuse us now until the evening meal. My lady and I hae been parted for over a year. I know ye understand." Putting an arm about Cat's waist, he led her up the stairs and into the castle.

  Henriette Gordon faced her amused husband with outrage. Laughing, he led her into their home, and when he had told her the tragic story of Bothwell and Cat, the pretty Countess of Huntley was on the verge of tears. "Oh, George! Les pauvres! James Stewart- Il est un cochon!" she cried indignantly. And from that moment, she was their ally.

  Bothwell waited patiently for an hour to be alone with Cat. There could be no privacy with servants traipsing in and out. Cat had ordered a hot bath to be set up for her by the fireplace. She was enchanted by the floral decorated porcelain tub. The hot water arrived, and Susan fussed until she found the hyacinth-scented bath oil. Francis Hepburn watched, amused, as the little maid shooed everyone out and tried to take him on as well. Laughing, he caught her by the waist and looked down at her. She blushed deep scarlet as his eyes boldly swept her. "Yer nae Ellen, are ye? Yer too young."

  "No-no, sir," she replied shyly. "I am Susan, her niece. My aunt looks after young Mistress Bess now."

  "Well, Susan," said Bothwell kindly, "yer to go to the servants hall and hae a good supper. And if any of the lads get rough wi ye, lass, yer to tell them they'll answer to me."

  "But, sir! I must help my lady to bathe."

  Gently but firmly, he propelled her out the door. "I will help yer lady to bathe, Susan. 'Twill nae be the first time. And dinna come back until yer sent for, lass." He locked the door behind her, then turned to find Cat helpless with laughter.

  "Ah, Bothwell, ye rogue! She will talk about this the rest of her life!" chuckled the Countess of Glenkirk.

  "Take yer bath, madame," he commanded.

  "Unbutton me," she countered, turning her back to him.

  His fingers fumbled down the long row of tiny silver buttons. She was amused by his trembling hands. She shrugged the velvet riding gown off and stepped out of it. Beneath it she wore a low-cut silk underblouse, beribboned busk, three silk petticoats, and lace stockings secured by garters. She unbuttoned the blouse and removed it, but it was he who unhooked the little busk. Naked to the waist, she gazed up at him, her eyes bright with desire.

  "Bathe," he repeated, his voice thick.

  Sliding the petticoats over her hips, she let them fall about her ankles. Stepping out of them, she kicked the white silk mound away from her. She was now completely naked except for the dark blue lace knit stockings and their pink garters. Groaning, he turned away. She smiled to herself and quickly rolled the stockings down and off her shapely legs. When he turned back she was comfortably settled in her tub.

  He sat down next to her. "Ye could tempt a band of angels!"

  "Ye must hae been very true to me, Bothwell, to be so quickly roused. I am flattered."

  He looked at her somberly. "The truth's that I have lifted every skirt I could, to try to bank the fire ye left in my heart. I failed miserably, because I have never stopped loving ye, or needing ye. I dinna expect I ever shall."

  "Oh, Francis," she cried. "I have ached for ye all these many months. I have never stopped loving ye either."

  "Yet," he said, almost bitterly, "ye gave yer husband another child-nay, twins!"

  She laughed, and the sound was silvery in the quiet of the room. "Oh, Bothwell, ye great fool! The bairns are yers! The bairns are yers!"

  He was incredulous. "Ye canna be sure, Cat."

  "But I can," she said. "I can. Oh, my sweet lord, did ye not think it strange when ye had already fathered so many bairns, and I was mother to six, that we had no child of our own?" He nodded, and she continued. "When Mam returned from the east she brought wi her a secret for controlling conception. All the women in our family know it. Until we were safely wed I could not let us have a child. When the king forbade my divorce I knew I dared not gie Jamie a weapon to use against us. Then he ordered us parted, and I realized I couldna leave ye wi'out something of ye to sustain m
e. I was over a month pregnant when I left ye, Francis! Glenkirk waited not a moment before claiming his rights, so he assumed the twins were his- especially when his mother said that twins ran in her family, and always came early."

  "What did ye call them?"

  "Ian and Jane."

  "Ye named them after my parents?"

  "Aye, but Patrick thinks they are named after his paternal grandparents."

  "What are they like, my wee bairns? What are they like, Cat?"

  The silvery laugh tinkled again. "Francis! They're but bairns! Five-month-old bairns." Seeing his crestfallen look, she tried. "The lad is auburn-haired and blue-eyed. He is bright, I can tell, and very demanding. His sister is a blue-eyed reddish-blonde of very much the same temperament. The wet nurses and the nursery staff adore them, for they both hae great charm."

  It was what he had wanted to hear, and his eyes misted. She felt a catch in her throat, and silently cursed once again their cousin the king. To keep from crying she said to him, "Hand me that cake of soap, my love," and proceeded to scrub herself down. When she had finished she stood and stepped out of the tub. Francis wrapped her in a towel and began to rub her dry. She stood quietly, luxuriating in the delicious sensation of his hands on her once again.

  She could tell by his touch that he was near to losing that perfect control he prided himself on, and she wanted him as she had never wanted him before. Turning, she slid her slender arms about his neck. "Now, Francis," she said quietly. "Take me, now! I have waited over a year to be wi ye again, and 'tis nae time to be standoffish."

  Pulling away from him, she walked slowly across the room and climbed into the big lace-trimmed, lavender-scented featherbed. Undressing, he asked, "Did Glenkirk nae make love to ye enough that yer so eager, my darling?"

  "Glenkirk took every opportunity to use me, and though my body responds to him, I hae never since we last made love been able to find the heaven I find wi ye, Francis. Aye, my lord, I am eager for ye!" She held out her arms to him, and he waited no longer.