Love Wild and Fair

'Oh, Meg! Ye were always closer to me than my own mother. I shall miss ye so much! Try to explain to my parents, Meg.'

'I will, my dear. Dinna think too harshly of yer mother. She has always lived in her own sensuous little world where the only other occupant was yer father. I will make her understand. And who knows-when yer safe, we may even come visiting!'

'My bairns… ye'll be sure to look after them, Meg?'

'Aye.'

'And ye’ll nae let them forget me until I can send for them?'

'Nay, love. Now go, Catriona! Go before ye make a foolish and emotional decision.' Gently Meg kissed Cat's cheek and pushed her from her chambers.

For a moment Cat stood in the cold, dark corridor. I’ll nae see this again, she thought, and the tears flowed down her cheeks. My God! If anyone sees me I'll be hard put to explain.

Fiercely she wiped the wetness from her cheeks and ran through the back passages of the castle to her own apartments. The servants-with the exceptions of Susan and her young sister, May-had all been sent to bed.

'Is everything done?' Cat asked Susan.

'Yes, my lady. Conall and his men hae seen to it He said we were to leave as soon as ye returned.' She hustled Cat into the bedchamber, where she had a steaming tub waiting. ' 'Tis the last yer apt to get for a while.'

Cat smiled weakly. 'Did ye pack everything I told ye? And ye hae my jewel cases?'

'Aye to both questions. If the king's men come looking they'll find most of yer clothes still here awaiting yer return. Ah, what fun 'twill be to buy ye new clothes in France!'

The heaviness was beginning to lift from Cat's shoulders. 'Ye and May shall have some new clothes too,' she promised.

Within the hour she was dressed and ready. Then Susan, who stood behind her, unexpectedly fastened about Cat's neck the lion pendant given her by Lord Bothwell. 'I thought ye should be reminded of what yer going to, my lady, nae what yer leaving.'

Cat smiled, suddenly happy. 'Susan, I didna think ye could understand the wrench this is for me. I thank ye, Susan, for helping me through a hard, hard time. Yer a good friend to me, and I willna forget it.'

Catching up her fur-lined cloak, she walked to the fireplace and pressed the carving that opened the door to the secret passageway. 'Be sure the door is shut tight behind ye, girls,' she said, and taking a candle she stepped into the corridor.

Minutes later they exited at the foot of the west tower, where Conall waited with three horses. Cat swung herself onto Iolaire's back while Susan and May rode pillion. With Conall leading the way, they rode out from Glenkirk unseen by the watch. On a hill high above the castle they were joined by a party of men so large that Cat was taken aback.

'Christ!' she swore. 'How many are there, Conall?'

'Fifty. I couldna hae ye chasing all over Europe wi just half a dozen men to protect ye. Ye can afford it.' And raising his arm he signaled the start of their journey.

'Wait!” she commanded. Turning Iolaire, she looked back down onto Glenkirk, looming dark against a darker sky. For a moment she hesitated, torn with one final doubt. Leave Glenkirk? Leave her bairns? Leave Scotland? Leave nearly all she held dear? And then she saw James' sensuous face before her, and she heard his voice, low and insinuating, saying, '… and ye will do to me what ye did this night…' Yanking her horse about, Cat shouted, 'Forward!' and galloped away.

They would be sailing from Rattray Head, where Bothwell had left from so long ago. Since the Gallant James had disappeared with Patrick Leslie, the Leslie's new flagship, New Venture, would be taking Cat to France. Cat thought the name most appropriate.

They rode through the night, stopping twice to rest the horses. At dawn they made camp in the ruins of Huntley Castle. The ride in the cold night air had given Cat an enormous appetite, and she happily accepted a small rabbit broiled on a stick which was brought to her by one of the men. Susan supplied a loaf of bread, a cup, and a flask filled with sweet wine. Cat shared these offerings with her two servants and happily stuffed herself. Full at last, she wrapped herself in her heavy cloak and went to sleep by a small fire kindled in what was now a freestanding fireplace.

When she awoke it was midafternoon, and the camp was quiet. Susan and May were sleeping near her. She lay for a few minutes, drowsy and warm within the safety of her cloak, then slept again. When she woke in late afternoon the camp was abustle with the activities of cooking. Several lambs were turning over the cook fires, and on a large flat stone boasting a smaller fire beneath it rested a number of fresh-baked loaves. Well away from the heat stood several unopened casks of ale.

'Conall! To me!'

'Madame?'

'Where did all of this come from?'

'My lord of Huntley told his people to be on the lookout for ye and to see we were well fed and cared for while on Gordon lands.'

Her face softened. 'Why, bless George for that,' she said. Then, 'There's nae too much ale, is there? I dinna want the men too drunk to ride. We've a long night ahead of us, and we must reach Rattray before dawn.'

'Just enough to keep them happy, my lady. There's a small cask of wine for ye too. Dinna forget to refill yer flask for tonight.'

She nodded, and accepted the tin plate Susan handed her. It held thin, juicy slices of meat, early green cress, and hot bread dripping butter and honey. The cup was filled with rich malmsey, and put at her side on the ground. Again Cat stuffed herself. Afterwards, as the men ate, she stood and addressed them. 'Conall has told ye of my journey. If any of ye have changed yer minds about going, now is the time to say so, and to return to Glenkirk. If ye go back, I only ask that ye remain silent as to my whereabouts.' Silence greeted her words, and looking out at the Glenkirk men she felt quick tears prick her eyelids. Fighting to control herself, she said simply, 'Thank ye. Thank ye all.'

They were ahorse within the hour, and rode through most of the dark night. She could smell the sea long before they reached the coast, its salt tang growing stronger with every passing mile. They arrived at the rendezvous well before their deadline, and Conall signaled towards the sea with a lantern which he had managed somehow to stow in his bulging saddlebags. From the darkness came an answering light.

He drew forward a familiar-looking young man. 'My son, Andrew,' he announced gruffly.

Cat raised an eyebrow. 'Dinna tell me, Conall. Ye couldna find the time to wed wi his mother, but a Leslie always recognizes bis own. Am I correct?'

'Aye, madame,' he drawled, and she laughed. 'Andrew and ten of the men will sail on the New Venture wi ye,' he said. 'I'll go wi the others and the horses on the Anne la Reine from Peterhead.'

'Will ye be long behind us?' Cat asked nervously. 'I dinna like landing in France wi so few men.'

'We'll be ahead of ye. The Anne la Reine is lighter and a bit faster than the New Venture. Yer coach, horses, coachmen, and grooms left three days ago, and will be waiting for ye. Dinna fret, lass. I'll be waiting for ye.'

She smiled warmly at him. 'All right, Conall.' Then she turned her smile on the young man. 'Well, Andrew More-Leslie, not enough pretty girls to keep ye home at Glenkirk?'

'Too many, my lady-and an equal number of angry fathers.'

Cat laughed. 'Yell do, lad!'

They descended to the beach to meet the longboat. It slid up onto the sand and the sailors scrambled out to pull it safely onto the beach. For a moment Cat flew back in time, remembering when she had stood before on this wet and windy beach. It had been a bit less than three years ago, and she had ridden with the Earl of Bothwell to