The door to the study closed, and she was alone in the corridor with Niall Fitz-Leslie. The priest led her back to their coach in the courtyard. When they were safely on their way, he asked, "Well, madame, did you leave the lion's maw unscathed?"
Cat laughed. "Almost, mon père. Still, I like your king."
"Then you are free to go on to Lord Bothwell?"
"Yes, Niall. I am free."
The following day the two families gathered to bid Cat farewell. She retired as soon after the evening meal as was politely possible, for they planned an early start. Already the coach and a smaller secondary vehicle, brought to transport Cat's new wardrobe, had been packed and stood ready but for their horses. That very morning the Marquis de la Victoire had arrived with a certificate of safe passage from Henri de Navarre for Madame la Comtesse de Glenkirk. It would enable her to travel unmolested through France, and through various Italian territories as well.
In the deep of the night Cat woke suddenly, aware that she was not alone. Standing silently in the darkness at the foot of her bed was a man. She knew at once who it was. "What do you want, Giles?"
"How did you know it was me, Catherine?"
"Who else would dare to intrude on me, Giles?"
"Are you really leaving us in the morning?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because," she said patiently, as if explaining to a child, "I travel to Naples to wed Lord Bothwell."
"He is not the man for you, Catherine! He is a cruel, crude Northerner. He killed my friend, Paul de Guise. You do not know what kind of a man he really is!"
" 'Tis you who do not know Lord Bothwell, Giles. I have known him for years. I love him, and I always have loved him."
For a moment Giles de Peyrac was silent, then she heard a sharp intake of breath. "You! Then you are the woman he mourned! You are the woman for whom he scorned and insulted Clarice de Guise!" Giles de Peyrac moved from the darkness into the half-light by Cat's bedside, and his voice was strained, vindictive. "We stripped him of almost everything he had in reparation before the king exiled him. When he left France he and that mangy servant of his had naught but the horses they rode and the clothes on their backs. Now you think to go to him, and make his life pleasant? My best friend is dead!" The strange gold light flickered in Giles de Peyrac's eyes. "I wonder, ma belle cousine, how your lover will receive you, knowing that I have used you like an animal? And he will know!"
"Giles!" She deliberately raised her voice, but he was so lost to reason that he did not notice. "Giles! Leave my bedchamber at once!” She heard a soft movement in her dressing room, and knew with relief that she had wakened her tiring women.
Giles de Peyrac reached out. Grasping the neckline of her nightgown, he ripped the sheer material away easily. Before she could stop him, he flung himself on her. Cat screamed, a scream cut off by his hand on her mouth. Cat twisted her body wildly, trying to escape the hands that pinched and hurt her. The black eyes glittered cruelly, the little gold flame flickering madly. "That's it," he whispered in an excited voice, "fight me! Fight me! I like it when women fight me!"
My God, Cat realized. He's mad! But I won't be raped again! Not again!
Suddenly Giles de Peyrac was lifted off her, his arms pinioned back by Andrew. "I warned you, lad," said Conall quietly, and then he plunged his dirk directly into his prisoner's heart Giles de Peyrac's odd eyes widened in surprise and then went blank as he crumpled to the floor. Amazed, Cat watched as Niall stepped from the darkness. Having administered last rites, he commanded, "Dump him outside the walls by the servants" gate. It will look like footpads." Andrew and Conall picked up the body silently and carried it from the room.
Gasping, Cat began to weep with relief, vaguely aware that she was being gathered against a broad chest. Niall Fitz-Leslie held her easily, his hand stroking the tawny hair. Suddenly be became aware of the soft bare breasts pressing against his chest His heart began to beat wildly, and for a brief moment he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. Then, gathering his weakening self-control, he said quietly, "Giles de Peyrac was a depraved monster who virtually killed his own wife. I want you to forget this ever happened. Are you all right now?"
Still clinging to him, she turned her tear-streaked face up to him, and he groaned, "Christ, Catriona! Don't look at me like that! I am a priest, but I am a man also, ma belle!n
"Then let me go, Niall. I can feel you trembling against me. Go away before we are foolish!"
Reluctantly he released her, and she drew the sheets up over her nakedness. Though celibacy was a vow often broken among the priesthood, he himself had never before been tempted. He had had his share of wenches before admitting to his vocation, and had never regretted leaving carnality behind. But now?
As if reading his thoughts, she said quietly, "Honest doubt makes for a stronger faith, mon père. Thank you for rescuing me, but I would rest now. Twill soon be dawn, and whatever happens I must be on my way today."
He nodded dumbly.
"Will you hear my confession before I go? I think it would be best to keep this in the family."
Finding his voice, he said, "Yes. Come to the chapel at dawn. I will be waiting." And he slowly walked from the room.
Susan came to see that she was all right. Cat smiled wanly and patted her arm. "I am fine. Thank ye for getting Conall. I knew if I raised my voice ye'd hear me."
Susan flushed. " ‘Twas nae me, my lady. Twas May. She sleeps light."
"Thank God for it! Now go back to bed, child. Twill soon be morning."
Cat dozed in the darkness until her inner sense told her that dawn was near. Waking, she dressed herself quietly and made her way to the chapel, where Niall waited. The young priest was composed again, but had a haggard look about him. Kneeling, Cat placed her hands in his and began her confession. He listened quietly as she recited a list of small indiscretions, and the slightly larger sin of her few hours with Henri de Navarre. The penance he gave her was light, and his hand shook slightly as he absolved her, touching her bowed head. She looked up at him, then, green eyes twinkling, and said, "And for your sins, mon père, three Aves and three Paters."
Niall Fitz-Leslie choked back his laughter. "Catriona, you are impossibly irreverent, and I thank you. I have made a great to-do over nothing, haven't I?"
"Yes, mon père, you have. There is a world of difference between the thought and the deed."
"Merci, ma fille."
She kissed the hand extended to her, rose, and allowed him to escort her from the chapel. Lowering his voice, he spoke in Gaelic. "The body has not been found yet If you leave quickly you should be gone before it is."
"We are ready now."
"Have you eaten?"
"No. We will do so on the road."
When they entered the courtyard of the chateau they found David Leslie de Peyrac awaiting them. "Adèle bid me say her adieu if you left. She seemed to feel you might stay, though I know not why." He kissed her soundly on both cheeks. "Before you go, niece, will you satisfy my personal curiosity? From whom do you run?"