Love Wild and Fair

When Bothwell learned of Huntley's brave and clever ruse, he thanked him, but said, 'I must go now. This is the end, and if James would really have me dead, there is no hope. Maitland thinks he has won,' and Bothwell laughed harshly. 'He actually believes that by breaking the back of the nobility he can substitute his own influence. But if he really thinks that, then he is a bigger fool than all the rest! Those stern men who molded the king did a better job than they realize. Jamie may be superstitious and a bit of a coward, but he will be the only king in this land, mark my words!'

'Wait at least until the spring,' protested George Gordon. 'And there is Cat. She is a brave lady, your Countess of Glenkirk, but this will break her heart.'

Bothwell didn't need to be told that. They had been living in a fool's paradise, pretending they were normal people. She had been sleeping when he had left her to join Huntley, but he believed she would be awake now.

She was. Awake, and being sick into a basin. When she had finished he wiped her mouth with a damp towel and, holding her close, said, 'I ought to beat yer backside black and blue for this.'

She said nothing, so he continued. 'My foolish, foolish love! Have ye gone mad? Ye canna foist this bairn on Glenkirk. Do ye think he will welcome ye back swelling wi our bastard?'

'The child is mine,' she replied, looking fiercely at him.

'This child is ours, Cat. Yers and mine. With Patrick in England there can be no doubt. Christ! He's a proud man! He'll nae accept the bairn.'

'He'll accept it,' she said grimly. 'He owes me that!'

'My God,' said Bothwell in amazement. 'Do ye mean to make him pay the rest of his life for one night's indiscretion? Hasn't he been punished enough?'

'No!' she spat angrily out at him. 'In time, perhaps, I will forgie Patrick But I will never forget. Never! That indiscretion, as you call it, has cost me everything-my happiness, my peace of mind. Where am I in all this? Oh, God! It is so easy for ye men, with yer pride and yer damned sacred code of ethics! I have been destroyed by the three of ye. Patrick used me like a common drab to soothe his injured pride: Yet I am expected to be grateful that he took me back, James dirtied me, and I will never be able to wash away the stain he left on me. And ye, Francis?' She rounded on him. 'What was my first attraction for ye? That Jamie wanted me? Is that why ye fell in love wi me, my lord? To spite the king? Another victory over the royal bairn?' She wanted to hurt this man as they all had hurt her.

His big hand slashed out and slapped her before he realized it Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no sound. Instead her fingers gingerly touched her cheek, and felt the welts. Her head was ringing with the force of his blow, but she could hear his voice raging.

'I love ye!' he shouted, and his fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her arms. 'I hae from the beginning, but ye were the Virtuous Countess, and I respected that virtue. Ye see, my love, I only seduced those women who wanted to be seduced. When Jamie bragged he had forced ye into his bed, I was ashamed for him, and I ached for the shame ye must be feeling. Then Patrick and James hurt ye, so I grabbed at the chance they so foolishly offered me. I love ye! Yer a spoilt, stubborn bitch, but I love ye, Cat! It is hard enough to leave ye behind, my darling, but to know that I leave ye wi my child in yer belly-' He stopped. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger he tipped her face up to him. 'Why, my darling? Why did ye do this to us?'

'Because,' she answered him softly, 'because I canna bear to lose ye entirely, my love. Do ye think that because I am safe at Glenkirk 'twill be easier for me? Christ, Bothwell! 'Twill be harder, never knowing where ye are, or if yer safe, or if ye lack for anything. When ye leave me this time I shall never see ye again in this life. At least the child will gie me hope, Francis, and 'twill be a constant reminder to me of our love. Do ye understand that, my lord? Without the child I should retreat into some twilight world to escape the reality of what has happened to us. The child will help me to maintain my sanity.'

'When Glenkirk tells ye he will nae let ye keep the bairn, send it to me. 'Twill nae be easy, but 'twould be a comfort to hae our son wi me in my exile, and the child shall nae suffer the stigma of bastardy. I will legally acknowledge him so he may bear my name.'

She laughed. ' 'Twould be a damned inconvenience to ye, my gallant lover, to tramp about Europe wi a wee bairn. Besides, my lord, 'tis a lass I carry. I know. I am always damnably ill in the beginning wi the lasses!' Her eyes teared again for a moment. 'Once at Hermitage when Bess had been intolerably rude to ye, ye promised me that one day we would hae a lass of our own. Now we shall, and she shall be a comfort to me in my loneliness.'

'And I shall never see her,' he said softly.

'Yes, ye will! Each year I shall send ye her miniature, and ye shall see how she grows.'

' 'Tis small consolation, my dear, for a child I shall never hold in my arms. 'Twas hard enough to leave just ye behind, but now…' He paused. 'I dinna mind overmuch about the twins, for Glenkirk assumes them his, and they will grow up Leslies; but this poor wee bairn…' He put a big hand on her belly. 'Who will see that my little lass is nae hurt?'

'I will,' she answered him softly. 'No harm will come to our daughter, Francis. I swear it!'

'If I were Patrick Leslie,' said Bothwell quietly, 'I should probably kill ye.'

'The Earl of Bothwell might kill his unfaithful wife, but the Earl of Glenkirk will not,' she answered him with assurance. 'Patrick is far too civilized.'

'And I am not?' He cocked an amused eyebrow at her.

'Nay, Francis, yer not! If ye were more civilized ye'd nae be in the coil wi the king! But, oh, my love, dinna change, for I love ye as ye are!'

He laughed, but soon turned serious again. 'Dinna press Glenkirk too hard, Cat. He loves ye, and he is pricked wi guilt for what he did, but he is a man, sweeting. 'Tis a large morsel yer asking him to swallow, and I fear he will not.'

She nodded, and he had the oddest feeling that she would be deliberately reckless.

Pregnancy seemed to calm her, as the time for his departure drew near. For him, it was the opposite. It worried him tremendously to have to leave her behind. They fought over money again.

Wealthy in her own right, she was eager to put her money at Bothwell's disposal. But he was as proud as she was rich, and would take nothing from her.

'Fool!' she shouted at him. 'Wi'out gold yer as helpless as a beetle on its back!'

'I will manage,' he replied tersely.

'Bothwell! Bothwell! Listen to me, my love. France is nae Scotland, or England. Ye hae no real friends to shelter ye. Ye must hae money to live. Please let me help ye. The money is nae Patrick's. 'Tis mine! Left to me, by Mam. Invested by me over the years. Please take it! Let me instruct the Kiras to place my wealth at yer disposal in their Paris bank.'

'No, my darling,' he said quietly. But he was touched by her offer and her concern. 'I told ye once that I could not accept so much as a pennypiece from ye, for I love ye. I would not have history say that Francis Stewart- Hepburn loved the Countess of Glen-kirk's money, rather than the countess herself.'

'Alas, history never remembers women in love! My name shall die wi me.' She looked up at him. 'Dear God, Francis! How will ye live?'

'My sword will be fer hire. The French kings always have need of another good sword. 'Twill earn me a place to sleep, and a full stomach. Dinna fret, my love. I shall survive.'

'I wonder,' she mused, 'whether a bed and a meal are enough for the master of Hermitage, Kelso, Coldingham, Liddesdale, and Crichton?'

'They will have to be until I can build a fuller life for myself. There are ways.'

'Aye!' she hissed, suddenly furious at him. 'Between some overblown duchess' legs, I'll wager!'

He laughed down at her. 'Possibly, my darling. Yer love for me has blinded ye to the fact that I am a ruthless man.'

'Take the money, Francis! Be safe, I beg of ye!'

'No, Catriona. No.'