Love Wild and Fair

appeared, leaping lightly down the stairs, sword drawn. Walking to Conall, he peered closely at him. 'Conall? Conall More-Leslie?'

'Aye, my lord.'

A smile lit the earl's face, and he grasped Conall's hand with his free one. 'Christ, man! 'Tis good to see ye! What are ye doing here?'

'Ye didna receive the message delivered here for you several weeks ago?'

'No. Are ye sure yer messenger came here?'

'Aye, my lord, he came. He was told ye were away, but that the message would be delivered to ye on yer return.'

'I havena left here in months, Conall.' Suddenly the earl's face went white. 'Cat? Is she all right?'

Conall sighed with relief. 'Aye, my lord, she is fine, but she grows very impatient for yer company. She awaits yer lordship at the Villa del Pesce d'Oro.'

'What?”

'Aye, sir! She is waiting now. If ye've nothing of value here, let us get yer man Angus and go!'

Francis Stewart-Hepburn smiled slowly at Conall More-Leslie. 'I've nought of value here, man. Angus! To me!'

Then suddenly, at the top of the stairs, there appeared one of the most beautiful women Conall had ever seen. She glided down the stairs like a cat and purred in a deep voice, 'Caro? Where do you go? Our guests will soon be arriving.'

'Why was I not given the message delivered here several weeks ago?'

'What message, caro?' But her dark eyes flashed angrily at Conall.

Bothwell saw her and laughed. 'You are a very bad liar, Angela mia. I warned you that one day I would turn to you and say goodbye. This is that day.'

'Now? With guests coming? Could you not wait until tomorrow? Who will be my host?'

'You might ask your husband, Angela.'

'Francisco!' She held out her beautiful hands in a pleading fashion. 'I love you!'

He laughed again. 'Angela mia, you are a marvelous actress. There is only one thing in this world that would take me from your side, and she is waiting for me now. Adieu, cara mia!'

Within minutes they were on the road back to the Villa del Pesce d'Oro, and they never heard the shrieks of outrage made by the beautiful Contessa di LiCosa.

'What is Cat doing here?' shouted Lord Bothwell over the wind and the pounding of the horses' hooves.

'She will tell ye herself, my lord,' Conall shouted back.

The sun was sinking into the western sea when they reached the villa. She waited in the doorway, and he slid from the saddle before his horse had even stopped. Everything was suddenly very quiet as they stood stock still looking at each other. The servants were frozen silent, not daring to move, so charged was the very air about them.

'Cat.' His voice caressed her, and she swayed. 'Cat, my precious love, how come ye here?'

'I am a widow, Francis. Patrick is dead.'

'God assoil him.' They moved towards each other. 'Angus! Fetch a priest!' commanded Lord Bothwell. And then he caught her to him, and slowly enfolding her in his arms, he found her eagerly waiting mouth. He drank in the sweetness of her, murmuring softly against her lips.

Surrendering herself completely to the storm tearing at her, she clung to him. She could hardly stand. She could hear her heart pounding within her own ears. Finally she managed to gasp, 'Why a priest?'

His strong arm supporting her, he looked down into her upturned face. 'Because, my darling, I intend marrying ye now! Tonight! Before kings, or families, or anyone can come between us ever again!'

'Oh, Francis,' she whispered, 'I hae missed ye so damned much!' And she began to cry.

'Dinna weep, my darling. Yer safe wi me now, and this time no one will separate us! Now, love, tell me- why did Jamie relent, and let ye come to me?'

'He didn't, Francis. I ran. Jemmie is now the Glenkirk, and he felt 'twas the only chance I would have. What was between James Stewart, Patrick, and us had nothing to do wi Jemmie. He didna think that Jamie would try and revenge himself on the Leslies now.' She drew him into the house.

'Does our royal cousin know where ye are?'

'He was told that I went to France to recover from my widow's depression, but I imagine he's very angry at me, for I was ordered to return to court this spring. He even sent to King Henri and demanded his aid in arranging my return. Henri of Navarre sends his regards to ye.'

'Ye met him?'

'Aye. He was most kind. He told me how very much he regretted having to send ye away.'

'Henri was always kind to women,' chuckled Both-well. 'Young or old. Fair or ugly. He has unbelievable charm, and the ladies love it!'

But before he could pursue the conversation further, Cat led him into one of the salons overlooking the sea. Whirling about, she demanded, 'And who is the owner of the villa in which ye hae be staying?'

'The Conte di LiCosa,' said Bothwell smoothly.

'Is it his wife or his daughter ye've been sleeping with these long nights, my lord?'

Francis' deep-blue eyes twinkled. 'Jealous, my darling?' he teased.

'If she ever looks at ye again I will tear her heart out!'

He laughed happily. 'Beware, my darling. The Contessa de LiCosa is reputed to be a witch.'

'Is she?' Cat was not impressed.

He chuckled. 'She likes the peasants and the other uneducated masses to think so, and she really is quite talented in herbal medicine. She enjoys the small power her reputation gives her. She's half-Turkish, as her mother was born in Morea and captured by Angela's father years ago. She has two brothers, the older of whom, in an odd quirk of fate, was himself captured by Turks twenty years ago. Just as his mother once converted to Christianity, he became a Muslim. He is now one of the sultan's generals.'

'Is she very beautiful?' asked Cat.

'Yes,' replied Bothwell honestly, 'but the peasants call her l’Angela del Diavolo-the Devil's Angel.' He moved to take her in his arms. 'Cat, my love, I dinna want to talk of Angela. My God, I canna believe 'tis ye! Do ye know how many times I have dreamed of such a reunion, knowing it was impossible? Do ye know how I have longed for ye, sure that I would never hold ye in my arms again in this life? I have lain alone more nights than not aching for ye!' Gently he traced his finger down a tear streak. 'Our bairns?'

'WelL' she whispered in a choked little voice. 'Safe at Glenkirk wi Meg. Jemmie will send them to us when 'tis safe. A few months at most, and then we shall be a family at last.'

His arms tightened about her, and his mouth brushed against hers. 'I should like to be a bridegroom before I am a father, my darling.'

She laughed softly. 'Perhaps ye should have thought about that before ye sired three children on me, my lord.'

'‘Tis siring the fourth one I'm looking forward to, my pet!'

The door to the salon opened on them, and a grinning Conall entered accompanied by Angus and a black-robed cleric. 'So, Francisco!’Tis you who summon me in such unruly fashion!'

'Bishop Pasquale! When did you get back from Rome?'

'This afternoon, and a good thing I did. These two wildmen came roaring into the church demanding a priest They frightened my priests half to death! What is your great need of a priest, Bothwell? You don't look to me as if you're dying.'

The earl drew Cat forward. 'My lord bishop, may I present to you Caterina Maria Leslie, the Countess of Glenkirk. We wish to be married.'