Surprise and incredulity registered on the young face. “Sire! This is a great honor ye do Glenkirk! Christ, sir! What can I say!" Then, "Damn me! Her behavior is intolerable! I always felt my father spoiled her. But I am sure she will return soon. She is simply willfuL but I dinna believe disobedient."

The king looked pleased. There was no nonsense here. The lad was with him. She'd have no place to hide now. This was one Glenkirk he'd have no trouble with at all! The earl considered it an honor that James had singled out his mother-and rightly so! "I will send word to my good friend, King Henri, that yer mother is to be sent home."

Jemmie looked earnestly at the king. "I will write her also, sire. I am now the Lord of Glenkirk, and I honor my mother as much as she merits it, but she must understand that 'tis my word that is law at Glenkirk, not hers. She is, after all, but a woman, and therefore must be guided. Yer majesty has offered her yer protection. I will nae allow her to fling such graciousness away."

The king was pleased, but alone he brooded. Did she really intend returning? Or, as the little nagging doubt in the back of his mind suggested, had she fled him again? He had warned her once what he would do to her family if she refused him, but that was when her husband was alive. It would have been possible to trump up charges against Patrick. But the young earl was a different matter. Punishing him would be far too transparent, and would reap terrible consequences for the king.

The Leslies of Glenkirk were no longer a defenseless clan without powerful ties. The king's own cousin, George Gordon, the Earl of Huntley, was as troublesome in his way as Bothwell had been. He was not going to stand idly by and allow his daughter Isabelle's happiness to be destroyed, and James wanted no open clan rivalries left behind when he mounted the English throne. Then, too, there was the young Earl of Glenkirk himself. In the short time he had been at court he had made himself very popular, and he was openly admiring and supportive of the king. One could hardly accuse such a charming and loyal young man of perfidy. Besides, James genuinely liked the new Earl of Glenkirk.

The king slouched low in his chair, fingering the diamond-and-black-pearl necklace he had sent to Cat with the messenger. He thought anxiously that she must come back. She must! He could not-nay, would not- spend a lifetime yearning for her. But what if she did not return? He groaned aloud. She must!

Chapter 44

THE New Venture had made an easy passage from Rattray Head to Calais. The captain was heard to remark that in all his years of sailing he had never encountered such fair and constant winds in the North Sea, let alone the North Sea in late February. The Anne la Reine had arrived some twelve hours ahead of Cat's ship, and Conall and his men awaited their lady on the docks.

Because Conall deemed it safer, Cat and her two servants rode inside the coach on the four-day trip to Paris. Her entourage was extremely impressive. Two coachmen sat on the box, two footmen rode behind. Four grooms on horseback followed behind the coach, each leading yet another horse-lolaire among them. Conall led fifteen men, while Andrew, with another fifteen, brought up the rear. On each side of the coach rode ten men.

Besides Cat and her servants, there was one other occupant of the coach, and when Cat had disembarked at Calais she had almost fainted at the sight of him. Conall had grasped her arm and said sharply, "‘Tis his bastard half-brother. He's been raised here."

And the young priest stepped forward and raised her hand to his lips. "I should not have startled ye so, madame. I have always been flattered to know that I look like Patrick. I did not realize how much until this moment."


"Aye, Father. Except that yer hair is blond and his was dark, yer his mirror image. Even the tone of yer voicel"

Learning of her visit-for Cat had sent a message ahead to her two uncles-the priest had come from Paris to meet her. His name was Niall Fitz-Leslie, and he had been the only bastard of the third Earl of Glenkirk. His mother had been the youngest daughter of the laird of Rae, and she had caught the earl's eye when Meg was pregnant with her last baby. The third earl had been unable to resist the ample and available charms of the laird's daughter. Nine months later Niall had been born.

Upon learning of his daughter's condition, the old laird had sent her off to his sister in Caithness. There she had remained until she died when her son was ten. The third Earl of Glenkirk had always seen to his bastard son's support, and when Niall was left motherless, his father had sent him to be raised by his brother, Donald, in France. Thus, Meg had never known of her beloved husband's one deviation. Formal recognition by his father had made Niall's acceptance into the church a certainty.

Donald Leslie of Glenkirk had been a third son, and it had been necessary for him to make his own fortune. With his cousin, David Leslie of Sithean-himself a fourth son-he had gone into military service as a mercenary. It was while serving France that the two cousins caught the fancies of two young heiresses who were also related.

Donald had wed himself to Ren6 de la Provence, and sired six children in rapid succession-five of them sons, so his father-in-law, the old Sieur de la Provence, had been made happy in his old age. Now that he was dead, Donald was the Sieur de la Provence.

David Leslie-brother to Cat's mother-had done equally well by marrying Adèle de Peyrac, the only child of the elderly Sieur de Peyrac. He had sired four sons. The two Leslie cousins had, as part of their marriage contracts, agreed to add their wives' names to their own. Hence in France they were known as Donald Leslie de la Provence and David Leslie de Peyrac.

Cat had never met either of her uncles, as they had left Scotland before she was born.

"The entire family is quite excited by your visit, madame," Niall told her. "We realize, of course, that you are in mourning."

"No longer. Patrick would nae have liked it."

"I was saddened to learn of his death. I liked him."

"Ye knew him?"

Niall Fitz-Leslie smiled. "Yes. I knew him. When he was returning home to Scotland he stopped unexpectedly in Paris, and there was no time to remove me to another place. I will never forget the look on his face when he saw me. 'Twas a look of pure surprise. Then he laughed, and said, 'Little brother, I must obviously greet you so!' Before he left we had a long talk, and he told me of our father's death. He continued to pay for my support with our uncles, and after I became a priest he settled an amount on me with the Kiras. A man, he wrote me, is still a man even if he is a priest, and should always have his own money. He was a good man. I will pray for him."

"He was a good man," Cat replied. Then she looked at the young priest, and said, "Father, I should like you to hear my confession. Among other things it will answer all the questions I see in your eyes." She lowered the window of the coach and, hailing the nearest man, called, "Tell Conall I want to stop for a rest as soon as possible."

A few moments later the coach pulled into a sheltered clearing, and Susan and May exited to stretch their legs. Kneeling on the padded floor of the luxurious vehicle, Cat put her two slim white hands into the large, tanned one of the priest. She remained this way for almost an hour while she spoke softly of the last few years of her life.

The priest's face remained impassive throughout her recital. When she stopped he said, "In the eyes of the church you have certainly sinned grievously, but you have paid a far greater penance than your sin demanded, my daughter. Your current flight puts your family here in some small jeopardy should King Henri be asked by King James to aid in your return. I think, however, that your king is gauche in pursuing you when you so obviously dislike him. Lord only knows Henri Quatre is a lover of great renown, but he has never, to my knowledge, forced a woman. James Stewart is obviously a barbarian. You will, of course, forestall any threat to your family here by staying only a short time?"

"I will, mon père. Only long enough to buy new clothes, as I left most of mine behind at Glenkirk."

The priest grinned. "An admirable excuse for a new wardrobe, ma belle cousine."

She laughed. "I really do want to hurry, for I am most anxious to reach Lord Bothwell."

Niall Fitz-Leslie raised Cat up. "Sit back now, madame. Our business is over." He smiled at her. "Does Lord Bothwell know you are coming?"

"No. I dared not communicate with him before I left Glenkirk. I will arrange with our Paris bankers to send a message to Naples."

"I think he will be a very happy man," remarked the cleric. "When he was here at King Henri's court he seemed so… so…" The priest struggled for the right word. "… so incomplete! I realize that sounds strange, but something seemed to be missing in him and for him. Now I know what that something was."

Cat's face lit up, and Niall was staggered by the sudden flash of pure beauty. "Mon Dieu, chérie! You almost make me regret my vows of celibacy!" he said.

Her clear laughter rang within the coach. "You definitely have the Leslie charm, mon père. It is a good thing you have taken holy orders. There are already too many lusty Leslie men running about this earth!"

They continued their journey through Picardy into Isle de France, and up to Paris. Cat was enchanted with the city, and quite amazed to discover how unlike London, Edinburgh, or Aberdeen it was. She had assumed that all big cities were much alike. Paris was unlike any place she had ever seen. Now she understood why the current king had switched his allegiance from Protestantism to Catholicism in order to end religious wars in France, remarking that "Paris is well worth a Mass."