'I won't, Jemmie. I dinna think James will ever forgie me the insult I will deliver him. Rest assured that should I ever set foot on English or Scottish soil while our royal cousin rules, I shall be quickly and quietly arrested, imprisoned, and aye, even killed. When I go, I am gone. I only pray that Francis still wants me.'
James Leslie snorted. 'He does! Of that I hae no doubt. God! How desperately he sought to keep ye! If ye had both been less honorable people… but then ye were not, and ye sacrificed yerselves for us Leslies. No more, mother! Though I will publicly condemn ye, ye go wi my blessing, and with my love.'
The smile she gave him was radiant, and he was slightly taken aback. 'Jesu, mother! If that is the way ye smile at all the men who please ye, I am surprised ye hae not been ravished at least a hundred times!'
She laughed happily. 'A thousand, my impudent young lord! Now be off wi ye, Jemmie! I hae a wedding to plan.' He turned to go. 'Jemmie.' He looked and she held his eyes while she rose in a gesture of respect. 'I am most grateful to ye, my lord, most grateful. Ye'll make a fine earl. I am so verra sorry I canna be here to watch ye govern.'
Young James Leslie bowed quickly to his mother and then was gone.
Chapter 39
JAMES Leslie's fiancee, Isabelle Gordon, was a younger daughter of George and Henriette Gordon, the Earl and Countess of Huntley. As Huntley House had been burned to the ground two years before by a group of fanatic dissenters, she was to be married at Glenkirk. Some said the Gordons had been singled out not because they were Roman Catholic-half of Scotland still was-but because they had openly sheltered the Earl of Bothwell several years ago.
Now, however, the king had given his blessing to the marriage, and was even coming to the wedding, which would be celebrated on December 20. The young couple would then keep the Christmas through Twelfth Night holidays there before going to Edinburgh for the winter season.
As soon as the wedding date was set, young Isabelle came to Glenkirk. Cat insisted, 'She must learn how to run this castle if she is to be its chatelaine.'
'But, madame,' protested the future Countess of Glenkirk, who was pretty and sweet-natured though inclined to be lazy, 'surely ye will always be here to help me.'
'Nay, my dear Belle, I will nae be making Glenkirk my home. The king has suggested I return to court. I will be making my home in my townhouse in Edinburgh. Jemmie's grandmother, however, will be in the dower house should ye need advice on running the household. 'Tis really she ye should go to anyhow. Meg knows Glenkirk better than any of us.'
George Gordon looked across the cozy family hall at Cat. 'Bella, my dear,' he said smoothly, 'will ye run to the nursery and see that old Nanny has settled the littlest bairns for the night?'
'Yes, papa.' Isabelle dutifully rose and did as she was bid. Yet she wondered what they wanted to talk about that she was not allowed to hear.
'Do ye need help, Cat?' asked Huntley when his daughter had gone. 'Dinna tell me that Jamie has dared to pursue ye again.'
'He has, George. I am allowed six months to mourn Patrick, and then I must present myself at court for the king's pleasure.'
'The bastard!' swore Lord Gordon.
'Dinna fret, George. I will follow my heart.'
The Earl of Huntley looked at the widowed Countess of Glenkirk, and a slow smile spread over his face. 'Jesu! What a vixen ye are!' Then more seriously, 'He'll nae take his vengeance on Jemmie and Belle, will he?'
'Nay, George. What reason could he offer in public for attacking two innocent and loyal young subjects? They know nothing of the matter.'
'Is this why ye asked to have the wedding date set now?'
'His majesty suggested it, George. He felt the Glenkirk succession should be protected as soon as possible.'
Gordon chuckled. 'More likely he felt ye should be In his bed as soon as possible.'
Cat laughed out loud. 'Poor Jamie would be very upset to know how transparent his motives are.'
'Why shouldn't they be to us, Cat? Hell! The Stewarts have fucked every noble family in Scotland. We're all cousins!'
Henriette Gordon leaned forward in her chair and asked softly, 'What will ye do, Cat?'
'Dinna ask me questions I canna answer, Riette.'
'But, Cat-'
'Hush yer pretty mouth, woman,' said her husband.
So while she openly went about the business of preparing a lavish wedding for her eldest son, Cat Leslie secretly prepared for her escape to Italy. In this endeavor the Kiras, the Leslies' bankers and business associates for many years, willingly helped.
Over the next few months Cat's vast fortune would be transferred to the Kiras' Rome bank, by way of Paris. Though the King of France might have to cooperate with Scotland, the pope in Rome did not- especially when the matter involved a noble Catholic widow fighting to preserve her virtue against the chief Protestant heretic in Europe.
It was decided that Cat would sail down the North Sea, into the English Channel, and across into France. From there she would go overland to Italy, as the sea route was much too dangerous. The Mediterranean teemed with Turkish pirates. She would have her own coach, driver, footmen, and outriders. The only other person at Glenkirk aware of Cat's plans was Con all More-Leslie, Glenkirk's assistant captain-at-arms. Cat wanted only Glenkirk people in her entourage, and Conall was the man to arrange it.
'Well,' he said dourly, 'if it has to be marriage to Lord Bothwell or royal whoredom to Jamie Stewart, Bothwell is the lesser evil. I'll help ye, Mistress Cat, but gie me time to choose my men carefully. Catholics only. The Protestants would be too uncomfortable in Italy. Single, uninvolved men wi no one to come home to, so they'll stay wi us. No youngsters-too hotheaded.
But able men in their twenties or thirties. And I’ll nae talk to any till just before we go. Less chance of the word getting to one of Jamie's spies. Who will ye take to serve ye?'
'Susan, mayhap one other.'
He nodded, not surprised that she already had it all worked out. She was like her great-grandmother, Janet Leslie, and never did anything without carefully thinking it out. Too many people had underestimated her intelligence and resourcefulness.
He chuckled, and she asked, 'Why do ye laugh?'
Blue eyes crinkling with mirth contrasted with his weathered face. He replied, 'Because I would gie a year's pay to see the look on Jamie Stewart's face when he finds out ye've escaped him again!'
'Oh, Conall,' she admonished him, her own laughter bubbling up, 'hae ye no respect for the crown?'
'The crown, aye! But Cousin Jamie? 'Tis either a foolish man or an overly stubborn one who pursues a woman who so obviously doesna want him. Are these qualities that make a good king? I dinna think so.'
'But in his kingly duties he is a good king, Conall. 'Tis in his personal life he falters. He has never really been comfortable wi his fellow man, though he would desperately like to be.' She turned to the windows facing out across the hills. 'Ah, Conall! All I ever wanted to do was live my life quietly at Glenkirk.'
'Pah!' snapped the older man. 'Dinna delude yer-self. Ye've always been too restless. 'Twas nae Lord Patrick who yearned for court.' Her stricken look stopped him. 'Ah, lassie, dinna fret over it now! I'm a Leslie myself-albeit from the wrong side of the blanket-and I know 'tis the women in this family who hae always been the wild ones.'
As the autumn deepened she took every opportunity to ride the Leslie lands, leaving the wedding plans in Meg's competent hands. But Meg had always understood Cat far better than anyone else, and one day the older dowager accompanied Cat on her ride.
' 'Tis much too lovely a day to be indoors,' Meg announced loudly, for the benefit of the stableboys. 'If I look out my window at those fields of Michaelmas daisies once more, I shall go mad.' She pulled herself into the saddle
