Virginia Henley (45 page)

Scrope traced an arched eyebrow in a feminine gesture that looked ludicrous on such a rough-hewn man. “A king’s favorite.”

“Damn you both! Don’t you dare insinuate that Jamie is buggering me,” Robert protested.

His two relatives and Hepburn roared with laughter. Then, like a good brother should, George rubbed salt in the wound they’d just inflicted. “Always thought you were too pretty to piss!”

Robert laughed with them, as he realized it was their crude male way of saying they were proud of him.

To give Valiant some exercise, Hepburn galloped back along the cavalcade for a couple of miles and then returned for a word with King James, who was in the vanguard. “Sire, there’s no end to the procession of Scots rushing to England in hope of spoils.”

Jamie winked. “Like me, ye’ve already got yers picked out.”

Hepburn grinned his acknowledgment, then added, “The English too, I notice, are joining the throng.”

“Guid! The more the merrier. Naught beats a cockfight fer bloody, savage entertainment.”

“There’s so many traveling coaches back there, it looks like a Roman chariot race,” Hepburn commented dryly.

“Veni, vidi, vici,” James declared with a rare flash of wit.

Hepburn raised his arm in a mock salute. “Hail, Caesar!”

At Leeds Castle, Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, joined the king’s party. Patrick remarked to Robert, “I see Clifford has removed Elizabeth’s glove from his hat. Perhaps we could slip him a pair of James’s on the sly.”

Carey’s face lit with laughter. “James wears gloves?”

At Leicester, where the king’s party was preparing to stay the night, Patrick was surprised to see Arbella Stuart arrive, with a maid in attendance and her carriage piled high with luggage. Hepburn rode up to her coach and gallantly kissed her hand.

“Lord Stewart, I’m delighted to see you. Take me to
our
cousin James, so that I may make my obeisance to the new King of England.”

“You have managed to escape from your grandmother, Bess.”

“Oh, no,” Arbella said ingenuously. “My grandmother urged me to come with all speed. Now that the hateful, vindictive bitch Elizabeth is dead, I shall never be banished from Court again.”

Hepburn masked his amusement. “Never speak ill of the dead.”

“Oh, dear, it’s supposed to bring ill luck, isn’t it? I’ve had enough bad luck to last me a lifetime.”

“I’m sure Lady Catherine will be happy to see you, Arbella.”

“Cat was one of the few ladies who befriended me. But since I am related to the new monarch, everyone will wish to be my friend.”

Hepburn’s mouth twitched. He dismounted, turned Valiant over to David for stabling and helped Arbella from her carriage. “Come, we shall elbow our way to James.”

The next morning Jamie was booted and spurred and in the saddle before dawn broke. “Curse these laggards! Ha’ they no notion how fain I am tae see my capital?” It seemed the closer he got to London, the faster he wanted to reach it.

“I too am anxious to get to Whitehall, Sire. I’m ready to ride if you are,” Hepburn assured him.

“My King’s Guard will shit theirselves if I ride off wi’out’em. They can never keep up on a hunt, and ’tis the same now when I’m on the greatest quest o’ my life. Let’s ride, laddie, while they’re strugglin’ intae their britches.”

It wasn’t until the small riding party arrived at Northampton and stopped to water their horses that the full regiment of guards caught up with James. He was in too high a mood to rebuke them. The first English nobles, who had ridden north to meet him from the Court of Whitehall, began to arrive. James was pleased that they saw him in the saddle, where he always looked his best.

“They obviously lost no time, Your Majesty. Only two days past these same courtiers walked in Elizabeth’s funeral procession.”

“They’re no’ thinkin’ o’ the funeral now; they’re thinkin’ o’ the
coronation o’ James the First o’ England!
”

Or, more to the point, what they can get out of you,
Patrick thought.
Don’t hold them in contempt, Hepburn; they are merely being expedient.
Now that he was less than a hundred miles from the capital, Patrick had a decision to make. Tomorrow was Catherine’s birthday, and he’d promised Cat he’d be in London by April 1. Then again, he lusted to see Spencer Park, the estate in Hertford that would soon be his. Hepburn weighed his options. If he spent March 31 in Hertford he’d still be able to keep his word. He smiled.
It never hurts to keep a female waiting.

Catherine awoke early. I’m twenty-one today was her first thought. Patrick WILL come was her second. She slipped quietly from bed and lifted the heavy curtain to look outside. Spring is here! The trees are budded and the birds are busy building. She opened the window and smiled as a light breeze ruffled her hair. Everything looks green and fresh and promising! She inhaled the soft spring air. Spencer Park is legally mine today. She pictured her magnificent country estate and smiled. This will be the happiest year of my life!

“Happy birthday, my lamb.” Maggie handed her a small parcel.

Excited as a child, Cat opened it quickly. “Oh, Maggie, it’s beautiful!” She held up the delicate shell-pink nightgown embroidered with love knots and blushed at its transparency.
If he doesn’t come, I’ll remain a spinster and no one will ever see this!
Cat banished the disquieting thought immediately.

“Until this last year, I wished ye’d remain a child forever. But now I’m glad yer a woman at last, ready to drain life’s cup.”

Catherine put her arms about Maggie and hugged her close. “I love you, Maggie. You understand me well and accept me as I am.”

“I don’t like black. Too bad ye have to wear it on yer birthday, but ye look lovely in any color. What would ye like fer yer breakfast?”

“I’ll dress and do my hair, then I shall go down myself. The dining hall will be almost empty.”
I’m too excited to eat.

Catherine paid extra-special attention to her hair, fashioning it in an elegant upswept style that gave her a sophisticated look. Then she put on the emerald earrings Patrick had placed in her ears the last time they’d slept together. She gazed into the mirror and decided they made her eyes look more green than gold. She fastened a small white ruff about her neck to relieve the somber black and emerged from her bedchamber.

“We are in mourning. Replace those earbobs with jet.”

“No, Mother. I’ve quite made up my mind to wear these today.” She opened the door and fled.
If Mother knew they were a gift from Hepburn, she’d have a fit. She’s so obsessed with the death of Elizabeth, she’s forgotten it’s my birthday today. I wish she could get on with her life.
Cat immediately felt guilty.
I only wish that so I can get on with mine.

As she passed through the Great Hall and the Presence Chamber, she saw no one of interest. She stepped into the Privy Chamber, turned about and left.
I’m already looking for him. I must stop!

For the next three hours she walked through the corridors of Whitehall, and then she visited the chapel. At lunchtime she went to the kitchens and filched a quince tart. It eased the ache inside her slightly, though she knew it was not caused by hunger.

Catherine went outside into the pale afternoon sunshine. She walked through the gardens, which were just springing to life, spent an hour at the stables, and then, keeping her inner panic at bay, she went down to the river and decided to go into the Shield Gallery. She searched for Patrick’s shield, and when she saw it, emblazoned with the Hepburn leopards, her heart began to hammer.

Impulsively, she reached for the fine gold chain about her neck, unfastened it and slipped the leopard ring Hepburn had given her in lieu of a betrothal ring onto her finger. She stayed there for a long time, not wanting to leave. Here, at least, she felt some connection with him.

As the shadows grew long, she stood up reluctantly and walked from the Shield Gallery. She stood watching the traffic on the river and gradually the ache in her heart told her she must face facts. Hepburn was not coming today. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps never. Wanting and wishing did not make it happen. She fought the lump in her throat. The hours had gone by so slowly, time had seemed to stand still. With lagging steps she entered the palace and climbed the stairs. When she arrived at their rooms she couldn’t go in. Instead she climbed to Whitehall’s ramparts to watch the sun begin its descent upon the city of London.

She blinked as she caught sight of a lone figure riding into the courtyard. Surely only one man could be that tall! She picked up her skirts and started to run. She met him striding from the stables. Ignoring everyone abroad, she cried his name.

“Patrick! Patrick! You came!”

Suddenly, he was there, his black eyes meeting hers with an intimate look that stole her breath and her senses. Hepburn picked her up and swung her round. “Did you doubt me for one moment, Hellcat?”

A
s Patrick kissed her, Cat clung to him so fervently, he realized that she had indeed been uncertain of him.
I made the right decision to ride here first, with all speed, rather than go to Hertford.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

She gazed up at him in wonder. “You must have ridden hell-for-leather to get here before April.”

“I left King James to eat my dust. He’s most anxious to gain his capital and will be here tomorrow at the latest, but that simply wasn’t fast enough for me.” He touched one of the earrings he’d given her and grinned. “I knew you’d be wearing them.”

“Cocksure devil,” she said happily and raised her hand to show him that she was also wearing his leopard ring. He immediately removed it and slipped it back onto his own little finger. Before she could protest he kissed her quickly and kept one possessive arm about her. “Come on.”

She allowed him to lead her inside the palace, but when he started to climb the stairs, she pulled back. “We cannot go to my chambers. Mother doesn’t know about us—”

He hugged her to his side. “I’m taking you to Philadelphia’s rooms. She won’t be back tonight; she’s busy flirting with Jamie.”

Cat shuddered at the thought. “You lie!”

“Frequently.”

The female servant who opened Philadelphia’s door made a great fuss of Hepburn, then discreetly disappeared.

“You devil. All you have to do is raise an eyebrow to have a woman eating out of your hand.”

“Nothing so overt. If I raised an eyebrow at a woman, she’d jump into bed,” he teased.

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten how big you are and how compelling.” Cat ran her hands over the hard muscles in his broad chest.

“And I’d forgotten how small and delicate you are, though I remember your impulsiveness and your
passion
.”

“Hepburn,” she said breathlessly, “please don’t start making love to me.” Cat hovered on the brink of surrender.

He hid his amusement. “I have no such intent. Custom demands that the bride and groom sleep apart until they are wed. We’ve waited this long; I’m sure we can manage one more night.”

She looked up into his dark face. “Tomorrow?” She hesitated, then plunged in quickly. “Patrick, Mother will be outraged!”

“Cat, you are twenty-one. You don’t need her consent.”

“That’s true, isn’t it? But, Patrick, I would like her approval. If only there were some way I could—”

“Catherine, you can safely leave Isobel to me.”

She looked at him with uncertainty. “She is obsessed about mourning Elizabeth. The thought of King James taking the queen’s place is anathema to her. She isn’t like other women. She’s cold and distant ... she doesn’t respond to men.”

“Does she not?” This time he couldn’t hide his amusement. “Now, I’m starving. Let us go and dine. Sometime tomorrow, David Hepburn and my luggage should catch up with me. I shall speak with Isobel, and when King James arrives he can marry us.”

He says everything with such certainty. He must be a wizard or a warlock.
“You are my magic man.”

He reached into his doublet and took out a small box. He opened it and removed a magnificent emerald and diamond ring. “This is the betrothal ring I chose for you.” He put it on her finger.

Her eyes shone with happiness. “Patrick, I love you so much!”

He kissed her thoroughly. “You had better, my little Hellcat!”

When Catherine opened her eyes the next morning, happiness flooded through her like a tidal wave. Last night, by the time she returned, her mother had retired to her chamber. “He’s here!” Cat had whispered to Maggie as she showed her the emerald betrothal ring.

“Ye intend to wed him?” Maggie whispered back.

With a furtive glance at Isobel’s closed door, Cat nodded. She went to bed and enjoyed her first good night’s sleep in weeks.

Maggie drew back the curtains, and the April sun spilled into the room. She took an elegant black silk gown from the wardrobe and when Cat was bathed and dressed, helped her fashion her hair.