Patrick laughed, excited. "Raleigh!" he shouted. "Raleigh! You pirate!"

The elegant on the quarterdeck peered across the small gulf separating their ships. "God's foot! Can it be? Glenkirk! Is it you?"

"Aye, you rebel! Come across, and have a glass of wine wi me."

A few minutes later the Englishman stood on the deck of the Gallant James wringing Patrick's hand.

"Have ye been to court yet?" asked the earl.

"Nay. I've not the money for it. I've been doing a bit of swashbuckling. The French ships are easy pickings. I'll be on my way to Ireland soon. Then perhaps, when I've some gold in my pocket and some decent accomplishments to my credit, I can present myself to the queen. I'm a simple West Country boy, Patrick. My only claim to fame thus far is to be the great-nephew of the queen's old governess, Kate Ashley, and the great-nephew also of Lady Denny. It's not really much to recommend one."

Patrick grinned. "Come on, you ambitious devil! I want you to meet my wife and my mother." He led the way to the great cabin in the stern of the ship. Knocking first, they walked into a beautifully furnished room with large windows looking out over the sea. Meg came forward. "Mother, this is Master Walter Raleigh." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Lady Denny's great-nephew."

Raleigh shot him a black look, then smiled brightly at Meg and bowed over her hand. "Your servant, ma'am."

"And," continued Patrick, bringing Cat forward, "this is my wife, Catriona, the Countess of Glenkirk."

Raleigh dropped Meg's hand, and stared. "Christ, man!" he exploded. "No one's wife looks like that! A mistress perhaps, but only if you're a king and very lucky. But never a wife!"

The Leslies laughed, and Cat, without so much as a blush, replied, "Alas, I must disillusion ye, Master Raleigh. I am indeed the Countess of Glenkirk, a wife- and a mother also."

Lingering over her hand, Raleigh sighed. "Having seen perfection, and being unable to attain it, I shall be forced to remain a bachelor, madame."

"Raleigh, yer a most charming rogue. I fear for the virtue of all the lasses in yer West Country." She gently freed her hand.

Both Cat and Meg listened eagerly to all Raleigh said. Although he had not yet been to court, he was full of its gossip, passed on to him by friends. He was able to fill them in on the latest fashions, for Raleigh was a bit of a fop, and quite vain.

After a pleasant interval, the captain advised that the tide would be turning shortly. Unless they got into the river now, they would be forced to ride at anchor for twelve hours. Raleigh, immediately stood up. Kissing the ladies' hands, he bid them all adieu. The earl escorted him onto the deck. He said he hoped to see him at court before they returned to Scotland. Soon, with the help of a good wind, the Gallant James slipped into the River Thames and headed upstream.

Chapter 13

THAT Elizabeth Tudor had observed her forty-seventh birthday was confirmed by her mirror. Still, she was queen. And although it was an open secret that she had no intention of marrying, suitors continued to arrive. She was perpetually surrounded by gallants whose clever tongues spun lovely compliments.

This is partly what made the Scots Earl of Glenkirk so enticing. He was handsome beyond decency. Most of her courtiers were mustached, and bearded, and scented. The earl was smooth-shaven, leaving bare his elegant jawline, and there was about him a clean, masculine scent that bespoke regular washing. He was tall, topping most men by several inches, well proportioned, with good skin and dark, wavy hair. Those green-gold eyes were fascinating. Above all, he was well educated. The queen detested ignorance. And he did not curry favor as the others did. He would never become one of her favorites, but his courteous coldness fascinated her. She had never forgotten him, though several years had passed since he had been to court.

He had been only Lord Patrick then, but now he was back, a full earl. He knelt and took the hand she graciously extended. But the green-gold eyes with a hint of amusement deep within them never left her face. "Majesty," he murmured. He rose to his feet.

Elizabeth was grateful she was seated on a raised dais, but even so they were almost at equal eye level. It was a distinct disadvantage to the queen, who preferred gazing down from lofty heights upon her adoring court. Her amber eyes narrowed, and she spoke.

"So, Scots rogue, you have finally returned."

"Yes, yer majesty."

"And what naughty things have you been doing while you were away from us?" Elizabeth smiled archly.

"I hae gotten married and fathered a son, madame."

Several of the younger courtiers snickered, assuming the earl had ruined himself.

"And how long have you been married, my lord?"

"Two years, yer majesty."

"And how old is your son?"

"Two years, yer majesty."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth twitched. "God's foot, Glenkirk! Don't tell me you were caught by an outraged father?"

"No, madame. I had been betrothed to my wife since she was a child."

There was a story here, thought Elizabeth, but not for the ears of her gossipy court. Let them wonder. She stood up. "Come along, Glenkirk. I want to hear about this in private." Leaving the assembled court, the queen led the way into a small anteroom. "No ceremony, man! Sit down!" She seated herself and poured out two glasses of wine. "Now, Glenkirk," she said, handing him one of the glasses, "explain."

"Cat was four and I thirteen when the match was made. We were betrothed for eleven years."

"Cat?" said the queen.

Patrick smiled. "Catriona, yer majesty. 'Tis the Gaelic for Katherine."

"So," said Elizabeth impatiently, "but how is it that both your son and your marriage are two years of age?"

"There was a misunderstanding, and she ran away three days before the wedding."


The queen's eyes widened again. They began to twinkle. "You have yourself a headstrong wench, eh, my lord?"

"Aye, madame, I do. It took me almost a year to pin her down."

"You must have pinned her down sometime before that, Glenkirk, if she was carrying your babe."

Patrick laughed. "She hid first wi some devoted, pensioned servants, then up in the hills at a small house that had been her grandmother's. I found her there, and all might have been well, but-"

The queen cut in. "You committed some great blunder, I'll wager."

"Aye," he admitted, "and she was off again. She fled to Edinburgh, where my brother and his wife were about to set off to France. She cajoled Fiona into letting her stay in their house, unknown to Adam. Fiona agreed, thinking Cat would think things out and return shortly to me. When, at New Year's, she discovered Cat was still hiding in Edinburgh and the bairn was less than two months away, she informed me. My uncle and I went immediately to Edinburgh. After some discussion, Cat and I were reconciled and married by my uncle, the Abbot of Glenkirk Abbey."

"I'll wager she made it hard for you, Glenkirk," the queen chuckled.

"She did," he said.

"And when was your son born?"

"Approximately an hour after the wedding ceremony."

Elizabeth, sipping her wine, began to laugh. She laughed until the tears ran. Gasping, she choked on the wine and began to cough. Without thinking, Glenkirk stood up, leaned over, and clapped her on the back.

When the queen had finally caught her breath she said, "I hope you have brought your wild wench with you, my lord, for I should like to meet her."

"I have brought her, yer majesty, and I've also brought my mother, Lady Margaret Stewart Leslie. I hope ye'll receive them both."

"I will, Glenkirk. Bring them anytime. Tell me, is your wife beautiful?"

"Aye, madame, she is."

"As beautiful as I am?" said the queen coyly.

"One can hardly compare the beauty of a child with that of a mature woman, yer majesty."

Elizabeth chuckled. "God's foot, Glenkirk! I do believe there's hope for you. That's the first real compliment I have ever heard you utter at my court."

Two days later Patrick brought his wife to court. As Cat advanced towards the queen the younger women thought how plain her gown was, and the more experienced ones envied her her cleverness. The Queen of England stood in a stiffly brocaded, beribboned, be-jeweled red velvet gown that glittered and gleamed beneath a huge gold lace ruff. The Countess of Glenkirk wore a full-skirted black velvet gown. The wide sleeves were edged in lace and slashed to reveal white silk scattered with gold-embroidered stars. The neckline was low, and framed in a high, well-starched, sheer lace collar. Around her neck were four long ropes of magnificent pale-pink pearls. She wore.only one ring, a large, heart-shaped ruby. Her hair, uncrimped, was parted in the center and drawn over her ears into a knot at the nape of her neck. A delicate little lace cap sat on the back of her head, and two fat pink pearls bobbed from her ears.

The maids of honor thought the countess' raiment too simple, but Leicester leaned over to Lettice Knollys, his wife, and whispered, "What a beauty!" to which Lettice whispered back, "Aye! I hope she'll not stay long at court."

The handsome couple had reached the queen. Gracefully sweeping off his cap, Glenkirk bowed low. His countess dropped into a graceful curtsy. They rose and faced the English queen proudly. For just a moment, Elizabeth Tudor wondered what she had missed by not following her heart.

"You are welcome at court, countess."

"I am most grateful for yer majesty's welcome," replied Cat carefully.