“They are not my friends,” the queen replied. “You know that queens have few friends, Rosamund.” Then a sly smile touched her lips, and she asked, “Is he a very good lover? My Jamie certainly is, despite the years that separate us, but the Earl of Glenkirk is really old. Can he still make love? Or is this the kind of love you bore for your second husband, Hugh Cabot?”

“He is a magnificent lover and frequently exhausts me, Meg,” Rosamund replied candidly. “I love him, you know, and my passion for him is not in the least as it was for Hugh, who was more father to me than any.”

“How strange that this love should come to you at this time and in this place,” the queen noted. “I love the king, you know. And he is very good to me, although I suspect he believes I am not the cleverest of women. He often treats me as he would a favored animal. So he sent your earl to try to weaken this alliance the pope has now formed. He knew it would not work, of course.” The queen’s foot was absently rocking her son’s cradle as she spoke, and the baby was now falling asleep.

“King James is an honorable man. He will not betray this old alliance that Scotland has with France. There is no need for him to do so,” Rosamund said. “I think we both know that your brother, King Henry, seeks an excuse to make war on Scotland. He cannot be pleased that you have given your husband a son when poor Kate cannot give him one. It must frustrate him that Scotland holds the balance of power here. England cannot invade France with France’s ally on his northern border. So he seeks to isolate Scotland from the rest of Europe. Your husband, Meg, is a man of peace. He sees what peace has brought Scotland. This country is prosperous and content, no matter your easily insulted earls and lairds.” She smiled. “Now Scotland has an heir. There is even more at stake.”

“Yet Jamie builds a navy,” the queen noted.

“To protect Scotland, Meg. He seeks to defend his sea borders. His navy is a bulwark against foreigners,” Rosamund explained. It had always been difficult for Meg to see the large picture.

“Henry is jealous of Jamie’s ships. He is now building a navy, too, Kate writes me,” the queen responded.

“Kate is well?” It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her of Katherine of Aragon, now England’s queen.

“But that she cannot seem to give my brother a living heir,” Meg said. “Henry will be patient just so long, and then who knows what he will do. The fault lies with Kate, I fear, for my brother has his share of bastards, and he has impregnated her several times. But her children die. I wonder if it is not God’s judgment. Perhaps my father should have sent her back to Spain. Perhaps she should not have wed Arthur’s younger brother. But, then, what is done is done. Have they found you a place to rest your head?”

“We arrived early this morning, and after settling at an inn in Leith we came directly here. Annie and Dermid will follow tomorrow. They are wed, and Annie is already expecting a bairn,” Rosamund replied.

“It is always inconvenient when one’s tiring woman finds herself with child. At least they are wed.”

“They might not have been but for Paolo Loredano,” and Rosamund went on to tell the story of how the artist had sketched Annie with Dermid in a most compromising position.

The queen laughed. “I’ll wager the naughty girl was surprised when you faced her with your knowledge.”

“I said nothing. I just left the sketch for them to see. They came then and asked our permission to wed,” Rosamund chuckled.

“Oh, I have gossip about your old suitor, Logan Hepburn,” the queen said. “His little wife is big with child. It will be born sometime in October. They say he mounted her again and again until she proved fecund. Since then he has not been near her, although he treats her with kindness. They say he has a mistress somewhere in the borders. You are well rid of the fellow.”

“Logan is not a bad man, Meg. I was simply not ready to marry again, and he needed a legitimate heir. I am relieved his family prevailed. Besides, Friarsgate is my home, and I could live nowhere else,” Rosamund told the queen.

“So your earl will go with you over the border?”

“Aye. For a while,” Rosamund answered.

“The castle is full, I fear,” the queen announced. “You may sleep in my apartments, Rosamund, and Lord Leslie in the hall. He has done it before, I am certain.”

“The distance between here and Leith is little. We can remain at the inn.” The idea of being separated from Patrick for even a few nights made her unhappy.

“Nay, you will remain with me,” the queen murmured sweetly. “We shall send for your cousin Lord Cambridge to come back to Scotland. He must be bored to death at Friarsgate by now.”

“He will not come unless he has a place to lay his head in privacy,” Rosamund said.

“I understand he leased a house in the Highgate in anticipation of your return. When he arrives I shall give you permission to live there,” the queen said.

“I do not know how to thank you, Meg,” Rosamund told Scotland’s queen sharply.

The queen giggled. “You will find a way to be with your earl, Rosamund. Sometimes the king and I have made love in the oddest places just for the fun and excitement of it. You could not expect to lie to me and disappear for several months, and I would not punish you. Even if you were helping Lord Leslie complete his mission for my husband. Nay. This will be your chastisement.”

When the Earl of Glenkirk learned of the queen’s decree, he said, “I will speak with Jamie.”

“Do not, lest you endanger my friendship with the queen, Patrick,” Rosamund warned him. “Meg cannot remonstrate with her husband for the deception I played on her, and so she punishes me. I will accept it with good grace. We are both exhausted with our travels, and a few nights apart cannot harm us. She is sending to Friarsgate for my cousin, and tells me he has leased a house here in the town. Believe me that Tom will return with the messenger, for he will not wait a moment to rejoin this court given the opportunity. And I am anxious for news of home. He will invite us to join him, and we will be together once more.”

“ ’Tis you who should be the diplomat, sweetheart,” he told her with a smile.


Rosamund was correct when she said that her cousin, once summoned, would come posthaste from Friarsgate. He did, and no sooner had he arrived than he sought her out, knowing he would find her in the queen’s apartments. He had gained a bit of weight, enough to show, and she teased him.

“I see Maybel has taken good care of you, cousin,” she greeted him, and patted the small silk-covered belly he attempted to hide beneath his ornate doublet.

“My dear Rosamund,” he murmured, kissing both of her cheeks. “You are looking lean, yet strangely content, cousin.” He glanced about the queen’s antechamber. “Am I permitted to see the princely heir?”

“My lady, here is my cousin Lord Cambridge, who you will remember. He has returned at your invitation and is anxious to see the prince.”

“You will go back to England this summer, my lord,” the queen greeted Tom, “and you will tell my brother, Henry, what a fine laddie I have birthed the King of Scotland.” She smiled and held out her hand to be kissed.

Lord Cambridge took the plump little hand and saluted it. Then he said, “Madame, it would be worth my life, and you surely must know I am not a brave man, for me to bring your kingly brother such a bold message. If I should see King Henry, I will say that you are looking well and that your son appears healthy for the moment.”

The queen laughed. “My husband says this wee laddie of ours will reign as king one day, for his lang eey tells him that. You are welcome back to our court, my lord.”

“I could not refuse so gracious an invitation, madame, but I regret that I cannot remain long. My cousin must return home, and I must go south to see to my own holding. I have been gone far too long.”

“Aye, and Rosamund does long for her Friarsgate after her adventures abroad,” the queen said mischievously. “Go along now and tell your cousin of what has transpired while she has been gone. I know she is anxious to speak with you.”

The two Boltons bowed themselves from Queen Margaret’s presence and found a secluded place in the castle’s Great Hall where they might sit and speak.

“My lassies are well?” was her first question.

“They thrive, and Philippa grows more like you every day,” he told her. “Bessie and Banon are charming little wenches, the wee one in particular. She has a way about her, and all who meet her love her. Maybel wants me to tell you that you are to cease your foolishness and return home immediately.” His eyes twinkled as he said it.

“Patrick is coming with us,” Rosamund said quietly.

“Will you wed him?” Lord Cambridge inquired.

She shook her head. “Nothing has changed, Tom. I still owe Friarsgate my loyalty first, and Patrick his to Glenkirk. We need no vows between us to prove our love for each other. He will come with me and remain until he feels it is time for him to go. His son is grown and capable of managing in his father’s absence.”

“Then you will be safe while I am gone. I go south only to sell my estate, Rosamund. I am purchasing Otterly from your uncle Henry. It is practically in ruins at this point. Mavis, his wife, has run off, and ’tis unlikely he’ll ever see her again. Her sons, including your uncle’s lad, have taken to robbery on the high road. They’ll all be hung eventually. One already has been. The two daughters Mavis birthed are whoring in Carlisle, I am told. Henry Bolton is a broken man. I have promised him a cottage on the estate and a servant to look after his needs. I intend that Otterly be restored and made magnificent. It is for Banon one day, and I will see that Bessie is so well dowered that she will be considered quite the heiress. Philippa, of course, has Friarsgate after you, unless, of course, you give the earl a son.”

“Patrick can no longer sire bairns, Tom. An illness rendered his seed dead. There is no chance of my having another child.” Leaning over, she kissed her cousin on the cheek. “You are so good to my girls, Tom. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Aye, I do, Rosamund. I am but a few generations out of Cumbria, and the land seems to catch at your heart. I never cared much for my house at Cambridge. I’ll keep the London and Greenwich houses, however,” he said. “You never know when we might want to trot south to court, although quite frankly, Queen Katherine’s court is a bit too formal, dull, and staid for me. I far prefer this delightful court of King James.”

“Here you are, sweetheart.” Patrick had come upon them. “I understood you were back, my lord.” He held out his hand to Tom. “Stay seated, my lord. I am going to join you.” He looked at Rosamund. “You have asked him, I hope.”

“Asked me what?” Tom wanted to know.

“There has been no time. I have been getting the news of home,” she replied.

“You must ask him,” the earl said, a desperate tone in his voice.

“Ask me what?” Lord Cambridge repeated.

“May we please stay at the house you have leased here in Edinburgh, Tom? The queen has had me sleeping in her antechamber, and poor Patrick has been in the hall. We so long for a comfortable bed to lay our heads in, dear cousin.”

Tom laughed. “The Tudors have a rather wicked sense of humor, my dear Rosamund. I told the queen when I leased the Edinburgh house that when you returned she was to give you the key to it. This great hulking old castle is scarcely a place a guest of little importance, such as you and the earl, want to stay. She must have truly missed you, cousin, that she played this jest on you. Of course you may stay with me. The house is not large, but it is comfortable and clean. And it is an easy walk up the castle hill. You know how I dislike being late for social functions. I thought when I arrived yesterday that you had not returned yet, as you were not in residence and the housekeeper said no one had come. I assumed the queen had been sent word of your impending return, which was why she sent for me. What a wicked tease she is.” And he laughed heartily.

Neither the Earl of Glenkirk nor Rosamund joined in his laughter. They were not amused.

“Can we go now?” the earl asked. “I need a bath and a soft bed.”

“I will excuse myself from the queen’s presence,” Rosamund said. “Do not go without me, my lords. You will have to share your bath, Patrick.”

“As we did in San Lorenzo,” he replied softly, and he smiled into her eyes.

“Aye,” she said slowly, her amber eyes never leaving his.

Lord Cambridge shook his head wonderingly. Nothing had changed, he thought. They were as deeply in love now as they had been at Christmas. Yet Rosamund would not marry the Earl of Glenkirk and had said quite frankly that one day they would be parted, as the fates meant them to be. He worried for his cousin. He had loved her as the sister he lost ever since they had met. But this love she bore for Patrick burned white-hot, and what would happen when they were separated he feared to learn.