As the days grew shorter, Mrs. Kerr decided that young Mistress Abernethy should not be alone in the evenings. Her niece, Sally, was brought into the house to look after Cat. Sally was twenty, and as plump and cheerful as her aunt. Her presence made the evenings less lonely for Cat. The two young women sewed, or Cat read to them before the fire. Cat liked her enough to ask her if she would stay on and help look after the baby. Sally was delighted.
Fiona and Adam celebrated Christmas in Paris with their Leslie cousins. The New Year brought greetings from Glenkirk. Adam shook his head. "He's not yet found her. It's as if the wench had disappeared off the face of the earth." He looked at his wife. "Would ye ever do that to me, love?"
"Nay," said Fiona, glancing quickly away.
Adam looked at her more closely. "My God!" he shouted. "Ye know where she is! Ye do! Don't ye?" The look in his eyes was terrible, and Fiona panicked.
"She's in our house in Edinburgh! She made me promise not to tell! I thought she would be home, and safely wed wi him by now!" Then Fiona laughed. "She's got courage, has Cat! Good for her!"
"Ye know," said Adam ominously, "how I'm going to punish you, Fiona, don't ye?"
Fiona's temper snapped. If Patrick could be brought to heel then so could Adam. It wouldn't hurt to try. "Ye do, Leslie," she shouted back at him, "and I'll spread my legs for the first man that comes through that door! I'll nae be treated like a naughty child any longer!"
For a moment they glowered at each other, and then Adam laughed. "I dinna think ye and Cat were friends."
"We weren't, but we are now. We must both contend with Leslie arrogance. Your ass-eared brother called her a 'thing on which to breed his sons.' Do ye blame her for fleeing him? I don't!"
"I've got to tell him, Fiona, else the innocent bairn will be born on the wrong side of the blanket."
“I know," she agreed. "The Glenkirk courier is still here. Send your message back wi him. And Adam-tell Patrick to use Cat gently. She does love him, you know, but she wants him to love her for herself and not just for the children she can gie him. He must treat her wi respect. This was all his own fault."
"I think," he said teasingly, "that being married to me is good for ye, sweetheart. Yer gaining in wisdom." He ducked as a pillow flew by his head.
"Write yer letter, Leslie, and come to bed," she answered him. "Cousin Louise showed me some fascinating pictures today, and I'm dying to see if we can do the same things." She looked provocatively over her shoulder at him.
Adam Leslie gazed back at his lovely wife. "I shall be your most willing and eager pupil, madame," he said, raising a rakish eyebrow.
Chapter 9
THE Leslie courier had no difficulty in reaching the French coast from Paris, but once there he was forced to cool his heels. A nasty winter storm was brewing, and no captain was willing to set off across the North Sea. It wasn't that the fellow minded holing up in the cozy little French inn. He enjoyed the hearty food and excellent wine. But he knew the news he carried was of great importance to the earl. Lord Adam had given him a gold piece, and told him the earl would give him another.
Finally one windy but sunny morning, the courier stood in the center of the taproom, holding the gold piece high. He announced, "This to the man who gets me safely to Aberdeen! And another from my master, the Earl of Glenkirk, when we get there!"
The coin was plucked from his hand by a black-bearded man. "If this wind holds, laddie," he said, "I'll hae ye there in no time!"
The courier reached Glenkirk on the morning of February 2. Not only did the earl replace the gold piece he'd been forced to spend, he gave his messenger two more. The seacaptain was rewarded as had been promised.
Patrick Leslie left Glenkirk on the afternoon of February 2. He stopped at the abbey and asked Cat's uncle, Abbot Charles Leslie, to accompany him to Edinburgh.
"We’ll have to ride hard, uncle. Ellen says she's nae due for at least two more weeks, but ye canna tell wi a first bairn."
Charles Leslie nodded, went to his apartments and returned a few minutes later. The monk's robe was gone. Abbot Charles had become a tall, hard man of forty-five, booted and ready to ride. "I'll do better in Edinburgh," he said, "if I dinna look like a priest in that heretic town."
Several days later they stood in front of Fiona's house in Edinburgh. Sally opened the door. Her eyes widened in approval of the two imposing figures.
"Is yer mistress at home?" asked the earl.
"She's sleeping, my lord." Sally wasn't sure who this handsome stranger was, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was a lord.
"We will wait then," said Charles Leslie, moving into the house. "I am her uncle."
Sally put them in the formal parlor and went to get Mrs. Kerr. The housekeeper arrived a few moments later bearing a tray with wine and biscuits. "I am Mrs. Kerr. Might I know the nature of your business, gentlemen? My mistress is in a very delicate condition at this time."
"She's nae had the bairn?" Patrick's voice was anxious.
"No, sir. Not yet, but within the next few days for sure."
"Tell me, Mrs. Kerr," asked the abbot, "are ye of the new kirk, or the old kirk?"
Years of religious feuding had made the townspeople wary. But for some reason, Mrs. Kerr trusted this man. Looking quickly around, she answered without hesitation, "The old kirk, sir."
"I am the Abbot of Glenkirk Abbey," the older man said. "This is my nephew, the Earl of Glenkirk."
Mrs. Kerr bobbed a curtsy.
"And," continued the abbot, "the young woman who calls herself Mistress Abernethy is in fact the Lady Catriona Hay, the earl's betrothed wife. For reasons I'll nae go into, my wayward niece has twice fled her marriage. Now, however, the time for foolishness is over. Within a few days' time the earl's son will be born. He must, of course, be legitimate. If ye would be so good as to show me to my niece's bedchamber, we will see her now."
Mrs. Kerr said not a word, but moved quickly out of the formal parlor and up the stairs, the earl and the abbot following her. On the second floor she pointed to a door. "That is my lady's room. Let me waken her, my lord." A few minutes later she stuck her head through the door and beckoned the men inside. Then she turned and hurried back down the stairs to tell Sally this extraordinary turn of events.
Cat Hay, wearing a dark-green velvet dressing gown, stood with her back to the blazing fireplace. "Well, uncle. What brings ye here?" she asked calmly.
For the briefest moment Charles Leslie was reminded of his grandmother, Janet. "I've come to hear ye exchange yer wedding vows wi Patrick," he said.
"Such a long ride for nothing," she said.
"Niece! Yer time is very near. Ye carry wi'in yer belly the next rightful heir of Glenkirk. Would ye deny him his birthright?"
"Save yer breath, uncle. I will nae wed wi Patrick. He does not want a wife. He wants a brood mare-a thing on which to breed his sons. He believes he owns me. He told me so himself."
Patrick winced. "Please, Cat. I love ye, hinny. I've been crazy wi worry over ye and the bairn. Please, sweetheart! 'Tis my son you carry."
"Nay, my lord. Not yer son. Yer bastard!"
The earl staggered as if she'd struck him, and for a moment Charles Leslie felt sorry for his nephew. It was going to be no easy task getting Cat to speak her vows, but he had not risen to the office of abbot by meekness.
"Leave us, nephew." When Patrick had left, and the door closed behind him, Charles Leslie turned to his niece. "All right, Catriona, let us talk. I want the whole story. A year ago ye were willing to marry Patrick. What happened to cause this breach between ye?"
Sighing, she eased herself into a chair. "At first it was but a misunderstanding. Fiona claimed to be sleeping wi him, and I was furious, and why not? He claimed to love me, and yet appeared to be sleeping wi another woman."