"I am nae awake yet," she murmured, curling into a tight little ball.

He pulled the coverlet from her and began kissing her body. She stood it for a few minutes, then protested, "Damn ye, Bothwell! Ye could raise a corpse with those lips of yers," and she climbed from their bed. He watched with pleasure as she washed and then pulled on her riding clothes. It pleased him to note that she wore the gold-and-topaz chain he had given her.

"We'll eat in the kitchen, my lord. Shall I wake Hercules, or will ye do it? I'll wager a gold piece he's in Fiona's bed. I know for a fact that she's been faithful to Adam all their married life, but if she could resist that brother of yers and his passionate looks last night, I'll make a pilgrimage to Iona!"

Bothwell's laughter rang loudly. "No wager, Cat! If he's not in her bed, I'll go to Iona wi ye! Hercules is a winning rascal."

They opened their bedroom door and walked quietly across the hallway to the opposite room. They heard nothing. Cat gently opened the door and peered into the chamber. Hercules awoke at once and grinned wickedly at them. Fiona was curled naked in a corner of the bed, sleeping soundly and looking very tousled.

Closing the door again, Cat's mouth twitched with silent laughter. "I’ll be in the kitchen," she whispered, and ran lightly down the stairs.

The earl went back to their bedroom, where he shaved and bathed as best he could using the china basin. Finished, he went downstairs and discovered that Cat had ready a tempting breakfast of oatmeal, cold ham, and bread. Hercules was already seated at the trestle eating heartily and washing it all down with brown October ale. Bothwell joined his half-brother. After Cat had served the men she sat down with them and ate with her usual enthusiasm.

When he had finished the earl pushed back his chair. "Hercules, I want ye to take Cat to the edge of the city by the Lion Tavern. Wait there for me."

"Where are ye going?" demanded Cat.

"I hae a wee bit of unfinished business. Dinna fret, my darling."

"Ye should nae allow yerself to be seen, Francis. Ye deliberately bait Jamie."

"No one will harm me, my love." He drew his brother from the kitchen. Cat could hear only the murmur of their voices, and then laughter.

Sighing, she collected the dishes from the night before and this morning, and washed them all in the scullery. There must be nothing misplaced, nothing to give servants cause for gossip. When she returned to the kitchen, Bothwell was putting on his cloak. "Come kiss me, my darling," he said.

"Ye promise me yell be safe?"

"Aye, wench! I'll be safe. Now ye must leave wi Hercules in ten minutes. Be sure Fiona knows to keep silent."

Cat laughed. "Fiona will nae admit to even having met ye, let alone sheltering ye. Adam would beat her black and blue! I'll wager he knows yer brother's reputation."

Bothwell grinned at her. "I'll be wi ye soon, my love." And in a second he was out the back door into the stableyard, where Hercules was holding a prancing Valentine.

Cat left the kitchen and hurried up the two flights of stairs to Fiona's bedroom, carrying a tray with wine, bread, and a small honeycomb. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she called to her cousin. Fiona mumbled and snuggled down into the feather bed. "I'm leaving, Fiona. Bothwell and I must go home to Hermitage this morning." She put the tray on the bedside table. Fiona sat up. "My God!" said Cat. "Ye look like a castle surrendered after a great battle."

"I feel like it," answered Fiona. "Hercules lives up to his name." Suddenly she blushed. "Christ, Cat! Dinna tell Leslie! I've nae been unfaithful to him ever before. I dinna know what came over me."

"I do," returned Cat, laughing. "I'll nae tell on ye, cousin, if ye'll nae tell on me." She bent down and hugged Fiona. "Be good, and if ye need to get in touch wi me, the landlord at the Oak and Thistle can get a message to Bothwell."

"God go wi ye, Cat," Fiona said.

Bothwell, meantime, was riding through the city making sure he was plainly seen by the populace. A crowd began to follow him. He heard their excited voices behind him.

" 'Tis Bothwell!"

" 'Tis the border lord himself!"

"Francis Hepburn!"

"He's escaped the king!"

"Did Jamie really think he could hold Bothwell?"

"Bless me, Mary, he's as bonnie as they say!"

The earl rode to Nether Bow, where he brought his horse to a stop. The crowd kept a respectful distance, wary of Valentine's sharp hooves. "A good morrow, good people of Edinburgh," his deep voice boomed.

The crowd shifted, the spectators punching at each other genially and grinning.

"Is there a man here," said Bothwell, "who would earn an honest gold crown? A crown to him who'll fetch Chancellor John Maitland here to me. If he'll but come to get me I will willingly return to prison this instant!"

The crowd broke into delighted guffaws, and several men ran off in the direction of the chancellor's house to return a few minutes later saying that the chancellor's servants claimed he was not at home. The crowd hooted with derision. Then Francis Hepburn flung a purse of crowns to them. When they had quieted, Bothwell said, "Tell Maitland I'll be waiting for him if he's brave enough to come after me! I’ll be in the borders! And to my cousin, Jamie the king, I send my deepest loyalty."

Valentine reared up on his back legs as Hepburn shouted, "A Bothwell! A Bothwell!" and galloped unmolested from the Nether Bow, the approval of the crowd reverberating in his ears.

Chapter 28

WHILE Bothwell and his party galloped off to the borders, John Maitland set to work to undermine him further with the king. Maitland was a brilliant statesman. Like other statesmen of his time he was, by necessity, ruthless. He wanted only one power in Scotland-the monarchy-for then he, Maitiand, could rule through the king.

For years the royal Stewarts had been plagued by their earls. They ruled only by the cooperation of their nobility. They scattered their bastards generously among the daughters of the upper class, and then married those valuable bastards to the best families in hopes of joining themselves solidly to the powerful clans. They needed their great lords' support in order to rule unchallenged.

Maitland intended putting a stop to all this. He would break the power of these troublemakers. Beginning first with Bothwell on the borders, he would proceed to Huntley, the Cock of the North. If only, he sighed to himself, the great chiefs could be more like some of the smaller clan branches. He thought in particular of the Earl of Glenkirk, and his cousin of Sithean, a minor branch of Clan Leslie who had built up great wealth. They sought no political power, kept the peace on their lands, and rallied to the Stewarts in time of war.


The chancellor called for his coach and hurried off to Holyrood Palace to see the king. He found James in a panic, and the queen trying to calm him.

"How did he escape?" shrieked the king. "How? How? How? Edinburgh Castle is impregnable. Someone had to help him! I want to know who!"

"Sire, sire! Calm yourself," said Maitland. "Though no one saw Lord Bothwell leave, there is, I am sure, a logical explanation for his escape."

"No one saw him go?" whispered the king. "Witchcraft! Again he resorts to witchcraft!"

The chancellor hid a smile, pleased that his subtle inference had not escaped the king. But he had not reckoned with the queen.

"Nonsense!" she snapped. "I am sure the chancellor means nothing of the sort, do ye, sir? La, James! Do ye think Francis really flew out of his cell on a broomstick? More likely as not he bribed the watch! Men will do anything for money."

"His men won't," said the king sourly. "I've tried to buy information from them."

"Well," allowed the queen, smiling, "Francis is a rather special person."

"Is he?" asked Maitland, hardly surprised to find the queen in Bothwell's camp. Women were quite susceptible to the man's charm. Maitland did not understand it.

"Yes," answered Anna of Denmark, looking straight at the chancellor. "Francis Hepburn could charm a duck out of water."

"I want him found!" yelled the king. "I want him found, and brought back!"

"It will be done, your majesty. It will not be easy, but it will be done."

"If ye had gone to the Nether Bow this morning ye could have had him back in prison already," said the queen blandly. Her ladies giggled, and Maitland shot the queen a venomous look which she chose not to see.

"What's this?" demanded the king.

"Lord Bothwell rode to the Nether Bow earlier this morning, James, and offered to return to prison if our chancellor would but come and fetch him. The servants claimed he was not at home, but I understand he was at home, cowering in a cabinet."

The king began to chuckle, and the chuckle grew to laughter. "He outfoxed ye, Maitland!" chortled the king. "Trust Francis! He's a good fisherman, and he played ye like a salmon! He knew damned well ye'd nae dare venture out of yer house after him. He's made ye look a fool!"

"His behavior is an affront to the crown," snapped Maitland. "It undermines your majesty's dignity. He should be severely punished!"

"It undermines yer dignity, Maitland," said the king, but the chancellor's words had stung him. "How would ye punish him?" he asked.

"Forfeiture," said John Maitland promptly. "His offices. His estates."

"No! No!" cried the queen. "Francis is our cousin, James. I know he is reckless, and at times arrogant, but he is the kindest man I know-and he has always been your majesty's good friend. He has never conspired against ye, or lied to ye as others have."