home, and wed her.'
Ellen sighed. 'She's going to be very angry, my lord.'
'Since I shall be out hunting us a deer when she wakes, I'll be spared the brunt of her anger,' he replied dryly.
It wasn't until early afternoon that Cat woke. Conall had just returned from his errand, and Cat opened her eyes to see Ellen kneeling by the little clothes chest. 'What are ye doing?' she asked sleepily.
'Putting away yer clean clothes, luv. Conall has just brought them up from Glenkirk.'
Cat was suddenly wide awake. 'Where is Patrick?'
'He's been gone since dawn. Hunting a deer for us, he said.'
'Gie me a clean shirt, and my breeches, Ellie. I shall take my morning ride though it be afternoon.' She swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Ellen took a deep breath. 'I canna do it, Mistress Cat, and dinna bother being angry wi me. His lordship has sent yer Bana and my Brownie home to Glenkirk.'
Cat swore fiercely. 'The horny bastard! Then I'll walk out of here if I must, but I'll nae spend another night in this house while he's here.'
'He has also ordered,' continued Ellen, 'that ye not leave the house for the next few days. Ye may go naked, he says, or ye may wear one of yer sleeping gowns. I am to gie ye no other clothes.'
Cat felt a terrible rage within her, but she swallowed it, for her faithful Ellie was not responsible. 'Gie me something to wear,' she said wearily, 'and dinna bother fussing, for it makes no difference. He'll have it off me soon enough, for there's only one thing he wants from his whore.'
'Mistress Cat,' scolded Ellen. 'He is yer betrothed, and ye'll soon be wed. Ye would hae already been had ye not misjudged him, and run away.'
'God's foot, Ellie! Has he won ye over then?'
Ellen said nothing else, but handed Cat a pale turquoise-colored silk nightgown. 'I'll get ye something to eat,' she said, and left the room.
Cat let the gown slide down over her lush form. Picking up her brush, she sat back down on the bed and slowly brushed the tangles from her honey-colored hair. So he thought that by taking her horse and clothes away from her he would keep her a prisoner. Well, perhaps for a while he would. She would bide her time. But eventually, a way would open, and then she'd run from him again. It no longer mattered that he had or had not slept with Fiona- though Cat was glad he had not. What mattered was that she could not and would not allow him possession of Catriona Hay. Nobody owned her. Until Patrick Leslie understood that she was a person, not an extension of him, she would fight him with all the strength in her.
Ellen came back into the room bearing a tray. 'Fresh bread new from the oven! Half a broiled rabbit, a honeycomb, and some brown ale.'
Cat found she was hungry.
'Yer all right if ye can eat like that,' observed Ellen.
'Only a moonstruck idiot stops eating in a bad situation,' said Cat. 'If I'm going to think of a way to escape his high lordship, I've got to keep up my strength.'
'Mistress Cat! I dinna know why the earl puts up wi ye except he loves ye!'
'He loves me? Nonsense, Ellie! He thinks he owns me, and it pleases him to show his superiority over me by abusing my body.'
Ellen shrugged. She didn't understand Catriona when she spoke like that. Taking up the empty tray, she left the room, shaking her head.
Cat began to prowl the room. Until last night it had simply been a place to sleep. Now she looked on it as her prison. It could be entered only by a door from the stairway. There was a small fireplace on the door wall, and to the left was a bank of casement windows. There was one small, round window to the right. It was not a large room, and held only four pieces of furniture-a large canopied and curtained bed opposite the door, a low clothes chest at its foot, a small table on the single-windowed wall, and a chair by the fireplace. A pier glass hung on the bit of wall to the left of the door.
She stood by the windows looking out. From her vantage point she could see part of the valley below, and into the forest that surrounded the house. She saw Patrick coming out of the woods now. He was riding Dearg, and a buck was flung across his saddle. Conall ran to meet him and, taking the buck across his shoulders, went off in the direction of the stables. The earl followed.
Opening the bedroom door, Cat called down to Ellen. 'Prepare a tub in the kitchen for the earl, Ellie. He's just brought in a buck, and he and Conall have gone to butcher it. I'll nae have him dripping blood all over my bedroom.'
When he entered the bedroom an hour later clad only in a rough towel, she couldn't help but laugh. He grinned back at her.
'You see, madame. I've done as I've been told. Come now, and gie me a kiss.'
Shyly she walked to him, and putting her arms about his neck kissed him.
'Jesu, yer sweet,' he muttered, running his big hands over her silk-sheathed body and burying his face for a moment in her neck.
'Please, Patrick,' she whispered.
'Please, Patrick, what?' he demanded thickly. He drew her over in front of the pier glass, and standing behind her gently slid her gown off. His big hands cupped her lovely breasts, and instantly the nipples sprang erect. 'Look at yerself, Cat! I hae but to touch ye, and yer hungry for me!'
'No! No!' she protested, closing her eyes tightly.
He laughed softly, and turning her to him began to kiss her throat, her lips, her eyelids, with tiny, soft little kisses. His mouth began to move downward to her breasts. He knelt and, holding her firm but gently by the waist, kissed her shrinking belly, his kisses becoming more intense as they traveled lower. His lips found the tiny mole, and kissed it tenderly. Cat began to weep softly.
'Don't, sweetheart,' he said gently. 'There's nae shame in being a woman, and enjoying it.'
'Ye knew?'
'Aye,' he said, drawing her down on the floor in front of the cracking fire. 'I knew. I've made love to enough women in my life to know when one is enjoying it, even when she struggles like a demon, and vows she hates me.'
'I do hate ye,' she insisted.
He chuckled. 'Then in the next few weeks I'll gie ye cause each day to hate me more.' Swiftly he slid between her legs and thrust his aching manhood into her softness. She tried to squirm away. 'Nay, hinny! I told ye last night that ye belong to me. And what I hold, my sweet Cat, I keep!'
Chapter 7
THE spring sped by, and Midsummer Eve came and went. Still the Earl of Glenkirk held his beautiful betrothed a prisoner at A-Cuil. Often he rode the almost two hours down to Glenkirk so he might attend to his estate's business. Many days he hunted to provide game for his small household. But never did he spend a night away from Cat.
Though she would never have told him so, Cat now looked forward to the nights she spent in Patrick's arms. She was young, and healthy, and more than half in love with her handsome husband-to-be. As for the earl, he was passionately in love with her, and would have killed any man who dared to look upon her with even the slightest interest.
As the days grew warmer and longer, he took her upon his horse and rode with her through the forest and the high meadows. Several times they made love beneath the sun in fields of new heather. She was as warm as wine, and as sweet as honey. Patrick marveled that he, who had never been faithful to one woman for more than a week or two at a time, dreaded the thought of returning to Glenkirk and sharing her with even his family.
The return would be soon. Cat had not yet connected her loss of a show of blood with impending motherhood. Ellen had, and she sought a way to bring the matter to her young mistress's attention. One morning opportunity
