But soon, she vowed, soon she would seek him out across Europe, and when she found him… She stopped. What if he had remarried? After all, even Francis might have to compromise his honor in order to live. No! He had not remarried. But they would marry when she found him, and then Jemmie would send their bairns to them, and they would live to a peaceful old age, far from the intrigues of the court.
But first, she must contend with Cousin Jamie. He would come crawling into her bed when he arrived for the wedding. Well, and she laughed through her tears, he would find her eager. She, who was so used to regular lovemaking, had not had a man since her husband went off those long months ago. She despised James, but her body craved a man's touch. For once it would be she who used him!
Seeking out her eldest son, she warned him, "Ye must nae let the king know that yer aware of his nocturnal visits to me while he's here."
The young earl was shocked. "Jesu, mother! Would he dare, under our very roof?"
She laughed at his outrage. "Dare? He is the king. Lord, Jemmie, James would dare almost anything with regard to his personal desires! If ye understand this, ye will understand
"But what should be our attitude towards the Stewarts, mother?"
"Loyalty in times of danger to the crown or to the country. At all other times, maintain yer distance. When forced to be wi the king, show admiration and affection. Be agreeable wi'out being a toady. Jamie can be most charming, and his humor is quite droll. He doesna mean to play the villain. Ye simply must nae get too involved."
Jemmie nodded, but his brow was furrowed. "I wish he were nae coming to the wedding. Do ye think the queen will be wi him? At least her presence may help to keep his lust in check."
"She will nae come, Jemmie. I hear she is breeding again, and the king will use it as an excuse to keep her in Edinburgh. Dinna fret, my son. If I am to escape royal James, he must believe that I am ready to accept his will. His visit here will reassure him completely. The widow of Glenkirk will receive him hesitantly, but sweetly. I shall worry about my position, and he will offer comfort and encourage me to trust him completely. And once he has assuaged my fears, he will leave feeling very self-satisfied and manly."
Jemmie Leslie looked at his mother in frank amazement. "Yer the most devious woman I've ever known," he chuckled. "I would nae like to hae ye for an enemy, madame."
Cat laughed aloud. "'Tis strange," she said, "but yer father once said that same thing to me."
Five days before the wedding was to be celebrated, James Stewart arrived at Glenkirk. He was greeted by his distant cousins, the Leslies, and his closer cousins, the Gordons. His amber eyes lingered a moment on the black-garbed Countess of Glenkirk, and Cat flushed uncomfortably under his gaze. It was her duty, and Meg's, to escort the king to the suite of rooms set aside for the occasional royal visitor.
James' glance swept the large rooms, each warm with its own blazing fire. "Most attractive, dear Cousin Margaret. Ye Leslies hae the knack of making a man feel welcome. I hope all yer rooms are as pleasant"
"Oh, yes, James," replied Meg. "I may call ye James, mayn't I? After all, I could be yer mother." Giving his arm a little squeeze, she smiled up into his face, her eyes twinkling in a kindly fashion, and Cat wondered if she were going mad. What on earth possessed Meg to simper so? "I am," continued the elder dowager, "supposed to make my home in the dower house, but I am here in the castle more often than not. I live in the south wing, where the sun can warm my old bones. The earl's suite is in the east wing, so that the morning sun-according to tradition-may wake him early, and send him about his duties."
Christ in his heaven, thought Cat, where is she getting such nonsense?
"The royal suite has always been here in the west wing so royal visitors will nae be wakened early, but find their rooms filled with warm afternoon sunlight after a morning's hunt," finished Meg triumphantly.
"What a charming and thoughtful custom," said the king. He turned to Cat, who had maintained her silence all this time. "Ye no longer reside in the earl's suite?"
"No, sire." Cat kept her eyes modestly lowered.
Meg chattered on. "Oh, no, James! We hae redone those rooms for little Belle. Cat's apartments are right here in the west wing-in the tower! She was her great-grandmother's favorite girlchild, and dearest Mam lived in the west tower. So, when Cat had to pick other rooms, she chose Mam's. Why, there is even a secret entrance from here to those rooms!"
"Meg!’Tis a family secret," chided Cat softly.
"Ahhhh," breathed the king, "but I am family, sweet Cat. Tell me, Aunt Meg, what of this secret entrance?"
Meg giggled. "I am nae sure," she said, "but Cat would know. Come, dear one. I always remember Mam chuckling about that secret entrance where she used to let Colin Hay in when he came calling. I know ye know where it is, and it does have an exit into this very apartment, doesn't it?"
Cat hesitated, then spoke low. "Aye. It does."
The king tried to keep the impatience from his voice. It was obvious that the old woman liked him, and was slyly attempting to further his cause. "Come, Cat, dinna be coy wi me! What of this secret entrance? Is there one here?"
She walked across the bedchamber to the fireplace and pressed a rose carving on the left side of the mantel. A small door swung open. Taking a lighted candle from a wall sconce, Cat beckoned them to follow her. The flickering light wound up the cool, winding passage for two and a half flights. Then Cat stopped. Reaching up, she touched the molding around a door. The door sprang open. Walking through, they found themselves in what was obviously a woman's bedchamber.
"Gracious!" gasped Meg.
The king simply smiled.
"If ye followed the passage down," said Cat, "ye would exit at the bottom of the tower into a little courtyard."
"Fascinating," said James. "And now," he took the candle from Cat, "I shall see if I can find my way back alone."
"We will leave our door open, James, until yer safely back," said Meg. "Call out, my dear."
The king slipped through the door and began his descent. The flickering candle disappeared from view. At last they heard him call, "I am safe, Aunt Meg," and a door clicked closed.
Cat then closed up her end of the passage and, turning to her mother-in-law, exclaimed, "Jesu, ma-dame! Ye surely missed yer calling. Ye should be selling maidenheads in the Highgate!"
Meg laughed. "Ye dinna think he suspects?"
"Nay. The only thing he suspects is that yer on his side. Bless ye, Meg! Now our Jemmie will surely be safe after I go. James will think all Leslies adore him!"
"And ye must indeed go, my dear. The way the king looks at ye, Cat. Dear heaven! It turns my blood cold! He would devour ye! Will ye be safe wi him here?"
"Aye, Meg. I am well used to handling Jamie. This time, however, I must play the shyly reluctant and very repentant mistress. 'Twill nae be easy, but the king must never guess that I merely bide my time." She went to the garderobe and drew out a deep-violet velvet gown. "I dinna think Patrick would mind if I came out of mourning for Jemmie's wedding." She turned. "Damn me, Meg! Where is he? I canna believe he is dead, and yet if his ship did not reach the New World, where is he? Am I a fool? Is it only that I feel guilty over his going?"
Meg nodded. "I hae had the same feeling. Surely I should feel something if my eldest child were dead. He is gone, and yet he is not. Still, ye go, Cat. Do ye feel he will ever return?"