Patrick's next stop was the house of the Kiras in Goldsmith's Lane. Both brothers greeted him, and he could tell from the wary look of sympathy in Benjamin's eyes that the elder Kira guessed the reason for his visit. The amenities over, and Abner Kira gone, Benjamin and the earl sat before the fire.

"Well, Benjamin," asked Glenkirk, "where has she hidden herself now?"

"My lord," replied Kira, "my house has served yours since the days of your great-grandmother, but I cannot divulge that information. I cannot even tell you if I know where her ladyship is. I could no more break faith with her than I would with you."

Patrick had expected such an answer. "Then can ye get a message to her ladyship, Benjamin?"

"I think so, my lord. Shall I have parchment and ink brought?"

"Thank ye, my friend."

The writing materials were brought and Benjamin Kira left the earl alone. Patrick sat thinking for several minutes. Finally, he composed the following message. "Cat-I will nae gie ye yer freedom until ye hae spoken wi me face to face. If ye still wish to divorce me afterwards, I will nae stand in yer way. I hae wronged ye, but I beg of ye to hear me out. I still love ye. Glenkirk."

He sanded the parchment, rolled it, dripped wax on it, and sealed it with his signet. Leaving the room, he handed the roll to the waiting servant. "Gie it to yer master, lad. He'll know what to do wi it. Tell him I will be at my house here in town."

A few minutes later, Benjamin Kira handed the parchment to a messenger. "Take this to Lady Leslie at Hermitage Castle," he said. "And be sure you are not followed."

Cat did not want to see her husband, but Bothwell insisted. "Ye carina be certain in yer own mind that ye no longer love him unless ye can look him in the eye and tell him so. Ye can meet him at Kira's house. Stay wi yer cousin. Fiona. I shall go to Edinburgh too. I hae been meaning to do something about these stupid charges that I practice witchcraft against the king. Now is a good time. Too, since Margaret has agreed to gie me a divorce, there must be papers to sign."

"Do ye think Jamie knows about us?" she asked him.

"Nay. No one does except Home. We will ride to town secretly. Hercules can go wi us, and when we reach Edinburgh he will escort ye as far as yer cousin's house."

"What if I need ye, Francis?"

"I'll know if ye do, my darling. Dinna fear. We will complete our separate business quickly, and be safe back at Hermitage before ye know it."

So they rode to Edinburgh and parted. Fiona Leslie was delighted to see her cousin, and consumed with curiosity.

"Promise me," said Cat. "Promise me, Fiona, that ye'll nae tell Patrick I am here. He stays at Glenkirk House, and I hae nowhere else to go if ye will not shelter me."

"I would promise ye, Cat, but Adam is sure to tell him."

When her brother-in-law arrived home. Cat confronted him. "If ye tell Patrick I am here, I'll tell him ye advised me to sleep wi the king," she threatened.

"I hae already told him," said Adam, rubbing his jaw in remembrance.

"And did ye tell him ye offered me to Jamie when Jamie actually sought yer own wife?"

"That's nae true!" roared Adam.

"No, 'tis not. but I will tell Glenkirk that it is, and Fiona will back me up. won't ye, cousin?"

"Aye," said Fiona blandly, her smoky-gray eyes twinkling at her husband.

Adam Leslie flung up his hands. "All right, ye two bitches! Ye win. Ye hae yer refuge. Cat. When Glenkirk hears, I likely as not will receive another crack on my jaw."

Cat put her hand on her brother-in-law's arm. "Sit down, Adam. Ye too, Fiona. I would speak seriously wi ye both." They sat. Looking at Fiona, Cat said, "By now Adam has probably told ye that James forced me into his bed for a time." Fiona nodded, and Cat continued. "When Glenkirk found the king wi me, he was furious. What he did to me I will never speak of again. I hae now asked him for a divorce, and he will nae gie his consent unless I speak wi him face to face. I hae come to Edinburgh to do just that."

"Where hae ye been these last months?" asked Fiona.

Cat smiled. "I'll nae tell ye that, cousin."

Adam Leslie grunted and got up to pour himself some wine. If she wouldn't tell, she wouldn't tell. But Fiona had understood the softness in her cousin's voice, and thought with amazement, My God! She's in love! She is in love wi another man!

Fiona was desperate to learn the identity of Cat's lover, but she could think of no man that Cat had ever been friendly with outside the family. She was determined to find out somehow, however. Seeing Fiona's grim look, Cat laughed. "I'll tell ye eventually, Fiona, but not now." Caught, Fiona laughed back. "Ye always were the deep one," she returned.

On the following day a messenger was sent to the Kiras. The Countess of Glenkirk would arrive at their house to meet with her husband at one o'clock in the afternoon if the Kiras would send word to the earl informing him of the meeting.

Glenkirk arrived promptly. He was anxious to see Cat, sure that when he explained and apologized, their estrangement would be over. He had taken great pains with his appearance. A young maidservant ushered him into the room where Cat waited and then left, closing the door behind her.

The Countess of Glenkirk wore a high-necked deep-blue silk dress with ecru-colored lace cuffs. Her dark-honey-colored hair was braided and twisted into a severe knot on the nape of her neck. It was Cat, and yet somehow she looked different. "Patrick." Her voice was cool, and there was no welcome in it.

He rushed forward, stopping suddenly at the sight of the jeweled dirk in her hand.

"Touch me, and I use it," she said. "On you!"

"Sweetheart, please!" he pleaded. "Yer my wife, and I love ye." This was not going right

She laughed bitterly. "Ye didna feel so strongly two and a half months ago when ye and the king spent the night raping me! My God, Glenkirk! I was yer good and faithful wife for thirteen years! I never once gave ye cause for doubt. Yet the moment ye found me in the king's arms ye assumed me the guilty one, simply because I was a woman. Are men never the guilty ones?"

His voice shaking, he slipped to his knees and caught at the hem of her dress. "Cat! Cat! Will ye ever forgie me? When I awoke the next morning and remembered all that had past-Christ! Ye couldna have hated me any more than I hated myself. Can ye nae forgive me, hinny?"

"No, Patrick! I will never forgie ye for what ye did to me! Do ye know what it was like for me? Do ye know what it was like having to allow another man possession of my body? For a man, lovemaking is a physical thing. He hungers for a woman, but once he has had her the feeling dies. But for a woman, love-making is an emotional experience. Her passion for a man is alive before, during, and even after the act of love. James made me feel like a whore. He used my body, and it responded because ye had taught me to respond, but I felt nothing for him but hate. Every time he pushed himself into me I hated him, and I prayed ye would never know my shame, for I couldna bear to hurt ye. If only ye had felt the same tenderness for me, Patrick, I could forgie ye now. But when ye caught me wi the king, ye punished me when ye should have defended me. No, my lord of Glenkirk! I will nae forgie ye!"

He stood, and looked down on her. "What of the children?"

"I want my girls," she said. "Jamie and Colin are already wi Rothes, and Robbie will go next year. Ye may keep the children until the divorce is settled. After that-I want them. Ye may see them at any time ye want. They are all Leslies of Glenkirk and I would nae have them forget it. Nor would I have them hate their father, Patrick. What has happened between us is not the concern of our bairns."

"Ye are generous, madame," he said sardonically. "And now that we hae settled that perhaps ye would satisfy my curiosity, and tell me where ye hae been hiding all this time?"

"Nay. I will not tell ye, Patrick. Ye forfeited yer right to any control of my life on that night in February." Reaching for the bellpull on the wall, she yanked it and told the little maid, "Please see my horse is brought around." Cat turned once again to Patrick Leslie. "Farewell, my lord," she nodded coldly, and left him.

He was stunned. He could hardly believe what had taken place. He had lost her. There had been no love at all in the beautiful leaf-green eyes that had always lit with joy at the sight of him. He had willfully destroyed that Catriona Leslie, and the woman who bad risen phoenixlike from the wreckage was not his woman, nor was she ever likely to be. Sitting down, he put his head in his hands and wept. Several minutes later he left the Kira household and spent the rest of the day and the night that followed it getting very drunk.

Chapter 27

WHEN Francis Stewart Hepburn surrendered himself to his cousin, James panicked. Quickly he imprisoned the earl in Edinburgh Castle. The king, an overly superstitious man, was terribly frightened of witchcraft. Chancellor Maitland knew this and, in an attempt to break the back of Scotland's nobility, had fabricated the charges against Bothwell. Breaking the border lord, he thought, would crush all resistance to James. Unfortunately, the earl's fellow nobles were most irritated by Maitland's attempt to destroy their power. They refused to meet to try Hepburn. Until they did, justice was at a standstill because no one else could try him.

Cat was terrified by the news that Bothwell was locked in Edinburgh Castle. There was nothing she could do. She could not even communicate with her lover for fear of the king, and she had no idea how to reach Hercules. So she remained quietly with Fiona, awaiting word. She would not leave Edinburgh without Francis.

It was not long before she received a message from the loyal Hercules. She was to come, masked, to the Oak and Thistle Tavern the following afternoon, and ask for Mr. Prior. Cat was in a fever of impatience.

At two the next afternoon she slipped from the house and walked quickly through the June afternoon. It was raining slightly, which was to the good as few people were on the streets to see her. Entering the tavern, she inquired for Mr. Prior, and was shown a private parlor in the back of the building on the ground floor. There was Hercules.

She barely allowed time for the maidservant's exit before asking, "Francis?"

"Enormously comfortable in a large, well-furnished two-room apartment," said Bothwell's half-brother. "Eating and drinking the best that money can buy. A favorite with his captors, but beginning to be bored by Jamie's shilly-shallying."

"What do ye want me to do?" she cried.

"Francis has decided that too much more of the king's hospitality could kill him," chuckled Hercules. "So he'll be leaving Edinburgh shortly. Can ye hide him for a few hours? A day at most?"

"Aye! At my cousin Fiona's. Ye know the house. My brother-in-law, Adam, leaves tomorrow for Glenkirk. He'll be gone about two weeks, but no more. Can Francis escape within that time?"

Hercules Stewart nodded. "Within the week, my lady."

"I'll be ready. Is there some signal ye can gie me so I'll know when?"

"A boy will deliver a bunch of wild red roses and white heather to ye. 'Twill be that night." He poured out some red wine and handed her a goblet. "Drink it, madame. Ye look worn."

She smiled at him and accepted the wine. "I hae been so worried," she admitted. "I knew nothing but what the gossips in the marketplace said, and I didna dare inquire too closely."

Hercules looked at her. "How did that rogue of a brother of mine do it? How did he get the loveliest and bravest woman in this wild land to fall in love wi him?" He gave her a grin so like Bothwell's that her heart turned over. "He's always been lucky, the devil!"


She couldn't help but laugh. "I am the one who's lucky, Hercules. He is a great man, my Francis." She picked up her cloak from the settle. "I had best go now. I'll be waiting for yer signal."

The following day, Adam Leslie left Edinburgh, leaving his wife and Cat alone in the house. Almost immediately Fiona was at her younger cousin, demanding to know the name of Cat's lover. Cat laughed. "Not yet, Ona, but in a few days ye will not only know his name, but ye'll meet him." Fiona gnashed her teeth in frustration.

Two afternoons later an urchin knocked at the door of Fiona's house. Handing the maid a bouquet of white heather and wild red roses, he said, "Fer the lady o' Glenkirk." Exclaiming her delight, the little maid put the bouquet in a silver bowl and brought it to the Countess. Fiona raised an elegant eyebrow. "Charming," she said. "Does this mean I am to meet the gentleman soon?"