until she heard them relating among themselves incidents about her that they were in no position to recall.
'How do ye know these things?' she asked them.
'Why, Bess told us, mother,' they replied. Cat sent her eldest daughter a mental prayer of thanks. Without Bess, it seemed, her little ones would have forgotten her.
This last afternoon of the old year she oversaw their baths, and when they sat about their supper table she sat with them. The meal over, she surprised them with a silver paper box of Pinoccati, a diamond-shaped red-and- brown sugar candy. Their nursemaid, Lucy Kerr, smiled as Cat told the children the wild wonderful stories of their homeland.
Finally she heard their prayers and tucked them into bed, kissing them tenderly, reveling in their happiness. Bidding good night, she hurried to her own room, where Susan and May were readying a bath for her.
'What will ye wear, my lady?' asked May.
'Put out the green nightgown that my lord gave me,' she said.
Susan's eyebrow was raised just slightly as she reached for the bath scents. 'Wildflowers,' she heard her mistress say. 'The ones we brought from Scotland, in the silver flacon.' So, thought the tiring woman happily, she is finally going to try her wings again. Susan smiled to herself, and hoped that her lady's return to the world of sensual delights would be as pleasant as her own had been. Susan was in love for the first time in her life. The cause of her happiness was one of the men-at-arms who had accompanied them from Scotland. Robert Fitz-Gordon had taught Susan that love could be sweet. They were to be wed soon after the New Year.
Cat snuggled herself deep into the sweet water of the porcelain tub. Her pale hair had been carefully secured atop her head with tortoiseshell pins. The warmth of the water and of the nearby fire combined to make her drowsy and very relaxed. The two servants bustled about her, putting away her clothes.
She heard his footsteps in the doorway, and her eyes flew open. He stood for a brief moment gazing longingly at her, and then caught himself. 'I beg your pardon, my darling. I dinna know ye were bathing.'
'Francis!' Damn! She had not meant her voice to sound so desperate. He turned back to her. 'I would have ye stay, and tell me of your day, my lord.' Her heart contracted painfully at the hope she saw leap into his eyes. 'Susan, May… ye may leave us. See that cook will have supper ready when we ring. Ye may have the rest of the evening to yerselves.'
They curtsied and left quickly. 'Come sit by me, Francis. How is Asher Kira?'
Seating himself, he spoke at some length of the business that had taken him to the city. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but they kept straying to her soft breasts, but barely concealed by the water. He swallowed hard and forced his eyes upward again. She lowered her lashes, but he had caught a quick glimpse of the laughter in her eyes.
'Cat!' His voice was suddenly sharp, and she looked up at him. 'I am no saint. I simply cannot continue to sit here and not touch you. Ye hae always had that effect on me-as ye know.'
He rose, and she cried, 'No, Francis! Dinna go from me.' His eyes caught hers and held them in a puzzled
'Aye,' he answered, his eyes never leaving hers. 'Ye rode two days to get to me, and ye were grievously hurt.'
'I am once more grievously hurt, my lord,' and her voice crackled, 'but I would be yer wife again.'
For a moment the room was silent, then he asked quietly, 'Do you trust me, Cat?' She nodded. 'Then stand up, my love.'
She rose from her tub, the scented water cascading down her. He took the hard cake of soap from its little silver dish and, lathering his hands, began to soap her. She trembled under his touch, but stood quietly while his hands moved down her shoulders, back, and buttocks. Reaching for the sponge, he rinsed her off, the soapy water running down between her unsteady legs. 'Turn around.'
She faced him, her eyes lowered. His hands now soaped her breasts, and he smiled faintly as the rosy nipples hardened. He moved on to her belly, which quivered beneath his fingers and lower, the soap sliding across her skin as one finger touched the tiny mole. She cried out sofdy, shuddering, catching at his hands with her own hands. For a long moment she held him in restraint, and then her hands loosed his and fell quietly to her sides. Wordlessly he continued to wash her, moving on to the satiny skin of her inner thighs. Again the sopping sponge rinsed her free of the suds.
He lifted her out of the tub and set her gently on the rug before the fire. Several large Turkish towels hung warming on the oaken rack. Removing one, he dried her carefully. Tilting her small, heart-shaped face to his, he smiled down on her. 'There, my darling, that was nae so terrible, was it?'
'No.' Her voice was barely a whisper.
Tenderly he put his arms about her and stood silently for a few moments while her shining head rested against his broad chest. Then he loosed her, saying, 'I stink of horses, my pet. 'Tis your turn to wash me.' And before she could protest he had pulled off his clothes and was climbing into her tub. He tried to settle himself for a soak. Looking at the great masculine animal attempting to lounge against her white porcelain tub with its dainty gold border and floral decor, his knees sticking out above the water, Cat giggled.
'And what,' he asked in an aggrieved voice, 'is so funny, madame?'
The giggles became a silvery peal of laughter. She laughed until the tears came to her eyes. Unaware of the cause of her amusement, but very relieved to hear her laughter after these many months, Bothwell laughed too. Finally controlling herself, she managed to gasp, 'Francis! Ye look so silly in my little tub amid the little, pale flowers.'
For a moment he looked disgruntled, then he gave her a wry grin. 'I probably do, sweetheart,' he agreed. 'I miss the great oak tub we had at Hermitage.'
For a moment they were silent, remembering the blissful days they had spent at his great border house before the king had exiled him from Scotland. Then Bothwell rose from the tub and said quietly, 'Wash me as ye used to, Cat.'
Shyly, she took the soap, losing it momentarily in the water, retrieving it, and then touching his back with shaking hands. As her fingers moved lightly over his skin she felt the familiarity of him return, and as she grew bolder, her hands became surer. He felt the lukewarm water sluicing down his back, and he turned to face her. Faintly amused, he watched as she scrubbed his chest, his flat belly, and then bravely moved lower to soap his genitals.
As he responded to her touch she gasped softly, color flooded her cheeks, and her eyes flew upward. He stood perfectly still, barely breathing. Regaining her courage, she rinsed him off. Stepping from the tub, he took his towel, dried himself, and asked, 'Are ye brave enough to proceed, Cat?'
She nodded. Going to their bed, she dropped her towel and slid between the sheets, holding them open for him. He slipped beneath the sweet silk and drew her into his arms. She was as stiff and as unyielding as an oak staff. He held her gently, and when several minutes had passed she began to relax.
'I am so afraid, Francis,' she whispered.
'I know, my darling,' he answered, 'but ye must remember that I hae never hurt ye, and I will not now.'
'But ye want me.'
'Aye, sweetheart, I want ye.'
'Yet ye will not force me. Why?'
'Because I do love ye, Cat. Because I know that ye hae been cruelly used. Ye hae every right to your fear, but I swear to ye, love, I will not hurt ye.'
Suddenly he felt her body shaking, and tipping her face up he saw that it was wet with tears. 'Cat!' The word was an anguished plea. Then she felt his mouth closing over hers, and before she could think she found her body melted against his.
As the warmth of his love penetrated her, she felt her fears sliding away. Memories fell away as his lips kissed her. There were only the two of them now. All else was unimportant. Tenderly he ran his tongue along her lips, and felt them open, her warm breath rushing into his mouth. Gently he explored her, as though for the very first time, feeling her quivering against him.
