At Holyrood House, Christina Anders cursed the fact that it was too late to get rid of the bastard growing within her. To try at this stage of the game might kill her. One look at the Countess of Glenkirk had told her the battle was lost. And the fantastic act that the countess had put on for just her benefit! How she had known so quickly was a mystery to Christina, but that she had known was patently obvious. The Danish girl sighed and wondered what would happen to her, and to the child she carried.

She did not have long to wonder. The following day the Countess of Glenkirk reported for duty as a lady of the queen's bedchamber. Anna took immediately to Catriona Leslie as to a charming and warm older cousin. No help there, thought Christina. Her aid, however, came from the most unexpected quarter. At the first opportunity, the Countess of Glenkirk separated Mistress Anders from the others. They walked in the park surrounding Holyrood House.

"How far gone are ye?" asked Cat with her usual directness.

Christina was frightened, but she stopped and looked up at the tall, beautiful woman. "Madame, I do not know what you mean."

Cat took the girl's arm. "Listen, my dear, I hae been wed to Patrick Leslie for twelve years. We hae six children, and what I guessed at, Patrick has confirmed. Now, when is the bairn due?"

Christina's composure crumbled. "Autumn," she whispered.

"Dinna fret, my dear," she heard the countess say to her. "Leslies take care of their own, and yer bairn is a Leslie."

"The child is a bastard, my lady."

"Pish!" said Cat impatiently. "Patrick's great-grandfather, the second earl, fathered a bastard son, the first of the More-Leslies. They have always served us since then. The More-Leslies are respected, and respectable. Your child will be taken care of, and ye need not worry. Yer lucky in that respect. Good God, girl! Why did ye nae pick an unmarried man who would possibly have married ye? Yer of good family."

"I am married, madame. To my third husband, a boy of twelve. Even if my lover had been free to wed me, it would have taken too long to get an annulment, and I can scarcely claim a boy not yet potent as this child's father. I appreciate and will accept your aid, but my child will not be raised as a servant! He is of good blood on both sides even if he is not legitimate."

Cat smiled. Christina Anders had given the countess the weapon she needed in order to control the situation. "Ye will be a good mother, my dear, and the Leslies will see yer bairn is raised as befits a noble bastard. However, if ye attempt to ensnare my husband again, I will see ye sent back to Denmark in disgrace and yer child will be sold East into slavery." So saying, the Countess of Glenkirk patted the girl's arm kindly and walked away.

Christina shuddered. She had no doubt that Catriona Leslie meant exactly what she said, and could do exactly what she threatened. Christina did not love Patrick Leslie. He had merely been a refreshing change. She was not about to get into a fight with his countess over him Just as long as the baby was taken care of, she would be satisfied. The earl may have confessed his infidelity to his wife, but Christina would wager he had not confessed to all the presents he had lavished on her„ She chuckled. She had done quite well.

That evening Cat managed a few minutes alone in their rooms with her husband. "I have had a talk wi Mistress Anders," she said calmly. The earl looked uncomfortable. "I told her," continued his wife, "that the Leslies take care of their own, so we will see the child is taken care of, but she's nae to see ye again."

"Cat! Ye had no right to tell her that!"

She flew at him. "Damn ye, Patrick! I have been patient wi ye, and kind to yer highborn doxy, but I've nae intention of sharing ye wi yer whore!" She turned her back to him.

Putting an arm about her, he pulled her back against him and pushing her tawny hair aside, kissed the nape of her neck. "I've never intended spreading myself between two women," he said gently, "and I hae no thought to involve myself wi Cairi again. But she is bearing my child. ‘Tis a lonely time for her, sweetheart. Dinna be unkind. 'Tis nae like ye."

"I was alone when I carried Jamie," she answered him.

"Aye. But ye were safe in Fiona's house wi Mrs. Kerr, and Sally. Ye were in yer own land, and anytime ye chose ye could have called on half a dozen people for aid. Cairi has none of these advantages. She is alone in a strange land, and in imminent danger of disgrace should her condition become known. I only mean to offer the hand of friendship should she need it. Nothing more." He kissed the fetching little nape of his wife's neck again, and one hand gently fondled a soft, round breast

"Damn ye, Glenkirk," she said through gritted teeth, but she turned and raised her face to him. His mouth found hers, and she felt her legs weaken. Bending, he scooped her up and deposited her on their bed. "No," she sighed reluctantly at him. "We canna now. I am due back wi the queen."

It was his turn to mutter, "Damn!" and she couldn't resist a giggle. Struggling to her feet, she smoothed her skirts down and, smiling wickedly at him over her shoulder, left him to cool off.

Patrick Leslie chuckled deeply to himself. What a wench she was! She had kept him ensnared for twelve years. Though she was stubborn, independent, willful, and perhaps too intelligent for a woman, she had never bored him. She was still the most fascinating woman he had ever known. It never occurred to Patrick that the very qualities in her that distressed him were the ones that made her so interesting.

Thinking over the last few days, he realized how lucky he was. Cairi Anders had been a lovely diversion, though he was sorry she was pregnant. At least she had made no scenes, and he was grateful to her for that. As to his wife, he sighed with relief. She could have made it very difficult for him, but she had not. She had been unbelievably generous.

While Patrick Leslie thought about his wife, Cat was in the queen's anteroom fending off the king. Struggling furiously, the Countess of Glenkirk yanked James Stewart's hand out of her bodice. "Damnit, Jamie! Behave yerself!"

"‘Tis hardly a warm welcome home ye gie me, Cat luv," protested James.

Cat swept him a curtsy. "Welcome home, yer majesty," she said coolly. "Now please allow me to pass, sire. I am already late for the queen."

"When may I see ye?"

"Publicly at any time, sire. Privately, never! I would remind yer majesty that ye are a married man now, and I have always been a married woman."

"Annie does nae pleasure me as ye do," he said.

"Her majesty is still hardly more than a maid, Jamie. It is up to ye to teach her what pleases ye."

"I am no schoolmaster," he replied sulkily. "Now, madame, let us fix a time that we may be together."

Catriona Leslie looked steadily at her king and her eyes were green ice. "In yer mother's day the word of a Stewart was good," she said cruelly.

Before he could reply the door to the queen's bedroom opened, and Countess Olafson called, "Ah, Lady Leslie! There you are! The queen has been asking for you."

Cat again curtsied to the king, but as she swept by she heard him say softly, "Ye'll pay dearly for that remark, madame."

Chapter 20

THE Countess of Glenkirk had no time to ponder the king's threatening remark. She was far too busy. The queen was to be crowned almost immediately. Her coronation robes, requiring many tiresome fittings, were all to be Scots-made. And then, too, Anna had to be taught the ceremony. Unfortunately, Anna of Denmark was not very bright. Beautiful, innocent, charming, and generous she was. But she was also extravagant, empty-headed, silly, and hot-tempered.

Fortunately, Catriona Leslie had the patience needed to drill the queen. She also had wisdom enough to make a game of it so Anna would not become bored.

"If," the young queen told Cat, "I had had a schoolmistress like you, perhaps I should have been more inclined to learn."

Cat laughed. "Nonsense, madame. Ye dinna fool me a bit. Ye know that ye will not only look magnificent at the coronation, but by knowing yer part well ye'll truly be magnificent. Yer subjects will be enchanted."

It was a clever compliment, and the teenaged queen preening herself before the mirror thought again how much she liked the lovely Countess of Glenkirk. Such an agreeable lady.

Anna of Denmark was crowned Queen of Scotland at Scone on May 17, 1590. She played her part with a charming, youthful dignity that touched the hearts of the crustiest old highland lairds assembled to see the next mother of the Stewart line. The evening was spent in the merriest of revels with a magnificent feast that featured roast boars, red deer, sheep, and sides of beef all basted by red-faced and perspiring kitchen boys. There were fowls of every kind-swans, larded ducks, capons in sweet lemon-ginger sauce, stuffed roast geese, partridges, grouse, quail, and pigeons. There were great bowls of raw oysters, and boiled shrimp, mussels, and clams with herbs. Broiled sea trout and flounders were served whole on great gold platters. There were also flaky pastries of minced meat, rabbit, fruits, and nuts. Smoked hams, eels, and potted hare were also offered. Young spring lettuces, scallions, and artichokes in vinegar filled silver bowls. Great crocks of butter were placed at intervals on the tables along with large trenchers of fresh breads. For the last course the guests were offered custards, jellies of every color and shape, oranges from Spain, early cherries from the south of France, and fruit tarts made with the dried fruits of last year's harvest. Silver bowls of sugared almonds and filberts were passed with the cheeses, the wafers, and the tiny goblets of spiced hippocras.