The young queen drew herself up. 'Well, sire! He is certainly not in my bedchamber. Or is this some new slander of Master Maitland's? First he alleges that the bonnie Earl of Moray is my lover… does he now say 'tis Bothwell?' She turned to her attendants. 'Fling open the wardrobes, ladies, so the king may see we hide no earls!' She turned back to the king. 'When ye have finished with this foolishness, please take your men and leave me. All this uproar has given me a terrible headache.'
Disappointed, the king retired to his empty bed. Equally disappointed, Bothwell returned to Hermitage. He again set himself to living quietly, in hope of allaying the king's fears and calming his anger.
In October the king mounted a small expedition into the borders. Bothwell and Cat immediately left Hermitage for their secret and well-hidden hunting lodge. Hermitage Castle stood open to the king, who could not, under these circumstances, complain of his cousin's disobedience.
The king returned to Edinburgh only to be waylaid again by Lady Margaret Douglas. She had chosen to catch him publicly, in front of the gates of Edinburgh Castle, crying for mercy upon her and her children. In God's name she begged the return of Bothwell's property for her innocent children.
James was furious at having been placed in such an embarrassing position, and in public. He forbade the lady to enter his presence again. 'I dinna know how Francis stood her as long as he did,' said the king to his wife. 'She doesna care for him-just his estates!'
This was the opening that Anna had been waiting for. 'They were not happy, Jamie?' she inquired innocently.
' 'Twas a political thing. He's well rid of her.'
'In that case, my love, why will ye not allow the cardinal to give Lady Leslie her divorce? Bothwell is deeply in love with her.'
The king was startled. He had not been aware that his frivolous little queen knew of Bothwell's involvement with Catriona Leslie. He wondered nervously what else she knew, and decided to move cautiously. 'Lady Leslie is nae a girl, Annie. She is the mother of six bairns. She is behaving like an infatuated maid, and must be brought to her senses.'
'But Jamie! Glenkirk is willing to let her go, and now that my dearest Christina is widowed-oh, Jamie! Twould be so wonderful if Christina could be Glen-kirk's wife. Then my little goddaughter, Anne Fitz-Leslie, could be brought up properly.'
'My dear Annie, the Leslies hae been wed for fourteen years. I canna allow them to dissolve their marriage on a whim. Twould set a bad example for the court. There must be more morality in our court. If I allow the Leslies to divorce, then every man who becomes infatuated wi another woman will want to divorce his wife, and every man's mistress will expect her lover to wed wi her.'
The queen thought that the king was making a great deal more of the matter than was warranted, and she felt that if he wished to reform the court he might do better by way of example than refuse a divorce for a couple who wished to marry. These people did not want to sin. However, she could argue no further with him at this time. She was disappointed, for she liked Francis and would have enjoyed helping him.
On New Year's Day, 1593, the Earl of Bothwell appealed to the kirk for aid, begging them not to despise
Elizabeth Tudor did not like James Stewart. He was her logical heir (though she had not named him officially yet) but she thought him a mealy-mouthed hypocrite. He was shifty, saying one thing and doing another. She could not understand this sudden relentless pursuit of Francis Stewart-Hepburn. To the best of her knowledge, the Earl of Bothwell had always been loyal to the Scots crown.
Elizabeth chuckled. Bothwell had visited her court some years back. He had been young, but damn! He was a brilliant and elegant rogue even then. There was more to this than met the eye, yet her spies could come up with no explanation. So, because it pleased her to be perverse and to thwart James, and because she had always had a weakness for charming rogues, she lent her support to the border lord.
Again the winter closed in around them, and Cat was relieved. They kept Twelfth Night revels at Hermitage for the neighboring gentry. Though she was not Bothwell's wife, she was treated as such by the local lairds and their ladies. They had no patience with the king's unkindness towards their hero and his lady.
Cat had not seen her oldest children in almost a year. It was simply too dangerous for them to come now. She barely knew the two youngest ones, and sadly wondered if they remembered her at all.
Bothwell missed the children too. Catriona Leslie had the knack for making family life a warm and happy thing. Bothwell found it restful. And until they could marry, they dared not have a child of their own.
As the winter deepened Cat became increasingly eager to go to France, and finally he agreed that if, by the end of the year, he had not settled things with his cousin, they would leave Scotland.
Chapter 32
WHEN James Stewart learned that his cousin the Queen of England was financing his cousin the Earl of Bothwell he sent word to Sir Robert Melville, his ambassador in England, to persuade Elizabeth to cease. Publicly exposed, she had no choice but to agree. Francis Hepburn was now in danger on both sides of the border. But worse was to come.
On July 21, 1593, sentence of forfeiture was again passed against Francis Stewart-Hepburn, the fifth Earl of Bothwell. But this time his arms were riven asunder at the Mercat cross in Edinburgh. Shocked, the Duke of Lennox and other noblemen determined to help Both-well. If Maitland could turn the king against his own blood, what could happen to them?
Bothwell, accompanied only by his half-brother, rode for the capital. His borderers slipped into the city by twos and threes until Edinburgh had discreetly swelled with them. Catriona Leslie had been left behind at Hermitage.
'What will happen?' she had begged him.
'I dinna know. If I can get to James I must convince him to restore my lands, which I hae given to my heir. And I will force him, if necessary, to allow the cardinal to grant yer petition of divorce. Then, love, we'll be safe.'
'And if ye canna reach him, Francis?'
'Then, my darling, we're for France. Let Angus fight the battle for his grandchildren.'
She clung to him, her mouth inviting his kisses, her body soft and yielding. Accepting the invitation, he made passionate love to her, then slept for several hours, cradling her in his arms. When she awoke he was gone, and she was frightened.
Early on the morning of July 24, 1593, James Stewart awoke to the faint gray light of early dawn. The air felt damp, and he wondered if it were raining. He heard a faint noise, a chair scraping the floor. 'Barra, laddie? Is it you?' he called. There was no answer. The king's heart began to pound violently against his ribs and his nightshirt became soaked in cold sweat. Ever so slowly, he turned and peered out of the bed curtains.
'Good morning, Jamie,' drawled Francis Stewart-Hepburn.
The king screamed. Scrambling to the other side of the bed, he leaped out and quickly turned the handle of the queen's bedroom door. It would not give. James turned to face his antagonist, pressing his back to the queen's door as though he could press himself through it. For a moment the cousins stared at each other-the one disheveled and frightened in a damp silk nightshirt, the other calm and assured in his red plaid kilt, his sword drawn.
Slowly Bothwell closed the space between them. The king was shaking. Francis Hepburn's blue eyes narrowed. Catching his cousin's face between his thumb and his forefinger, he growled, 'Lo, now, my fine bairn. Ye that hae said I sought yer life… look how I hold it in my hand!'
The king swayed as if he would faint.
'Christ, Jamie! I'm nae here to kill ye,' said Bothwell impatiently. 'Pull yerself together!'
James' eyes rolled in his head, and he looked wildly at the earl. 'Ye’ll nae get my soul, Francis! Kill me if ye will, but ye'll nae get my soul!'
'Jesu!' exploded Bothwell. 'What in God's name would I want wi yer soul, Jamie? I've but come to straighten
