“I dinna want anything to happen to my son,” he protested, but he gently set her upon her feet.
“I intend to take good care ofourchild, Alex,” came her pert reply.
Bothwell grinned at them delightedly. Marriage had not changed Alex and Velvet at all. In an increasingly confused world he found that a comforting fact. “Madame,” he said, looking at Velvet, “I stink of four days’ hard riding, and I am ravenous! What do ye intend to do about it?”
“Why, Francis,” she replied sweetly, “I intend to bathe you with my very own hands just like the good chatelaines of old bathed their honored guests. Then you will find that Mistress Geddes has prepared you a fine feast. Since I count Cat among my friends, however, you will have to make do with hot bricks between your sheets to warm your bed tonight.”
“Let’s start wi’ my bath,” Bothwell said wickedly.
“Come along, my lord,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs to a guest apartment. There in the bedchamber a large oak tub had been set up and filled with steaming hot water. Velvet whirled, hands upon her hips. “Well, sir, remove your clothing. I cannot bathe you with your garments on.”
Bothwell tossed his cloak to a manservant and, removing his jerkin and belt, slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Velvet’s face remained impassive as the shirt was removed, and he sat to have his boots taken off. He was beginning to grow nervous, for she showed no signs of leaving.
“Shall I help you with your kilt, Francis?” she asked him innocently.
A slow grin lit his face. “Ye would, too, wouldn’t ye?” he demanded of her.
“Aye,” she answered him. “You haven’t anything I haven’t already seen, my lord, or do you?”
The Earl of Bothwell howled with glee. “God’s cock, Velvet! Ye’re a wicked wench! I’ve always suspected it, but until now I wasna certain. Now get the hell out of here, madame, so I may bathe myself and regain my dignity.”
With a wink and a chuckle, Velvet left the room and hurried off to see that the evening meal would be ready on time for her guest. Francis Stewart-Hepburn’s laughter warmed her as she went. She did like him so very much, and it broke her heart that the king was being so cruel to him.
It was decided that night that Alex and a troop of his men would accompany Bothwell to Huntley the next day. Velvet wanted to go along, for she had not yet met Henrietta Gordon, the Countess of Huntley, who was a Frenchwoman and knew Velvet’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins atArchambault.Alex, however, anxious about his wife’s newly announced pregnancy, forbade it.
“Are you telling me I can’t ride?” she exploded at him.
“Nay!” he quickly replied. “I simply dinna want ye riding such a distance as it is toHuntley.Besides, there’ll be nae women there but for Henrietta. George has called together all the chiefs of the most important families in the Highlands to discuss a plan of action against the King. If we dinna aid Francis, then Maitland will pick us off one by one.”
“Dinna underestimate Jamie,” said Bothwell. “He plays the fool, and ’tis true he can be slow in some matters, but he is nae really stupid, and he is very wise about certain things. I believe he uses Maitland even as Maitland believes he uses the king.”
“Are ye saying ’tis Jamie who wishes to take the earls’ power from them?”
Bothwell nodded. “Aye, I do. Jamie has learned his lessons well, Alex. Look at the history of the Stewart family, man. Nae one of the Stewart kings has lived to reach old age, being either killed off by their rebellious nobles in wars or by assassination. They have not even been safe from their own sons in many instances as ye well know. James is the only logical choice to succeed Elizabeth Tudor. Who else has she got? Oh, there’s Arabella Stewart, Jamie’s English cousin, but after Elizabeth I will wager the English will want a king! Jamie intends to be that king, and he intends to live to come into his inheritance. English nobles are far easier to cope wi’ than us Scots.” Bothwell smiled ruefully.
“This land is always roiling wi’ some turmoil or another,” he continued. “Jamie knows he must control the nobility in order to live long enough to inherit England. What better way to control them than to destroy, or at least cripple, the more powerful earls both in the Border and in the Highlands? Our downfall would set a forceful example for the smaller clans. Hell, if the royal bairn can take on both Huntley and me,and can win, the others will believe that God Himself is on his side. In this, however, he hides behind Maitland, for though Jamie be clever he is nae too brave. Maitland, poor fool, is expendable, for chancellors are a groat a dozen. If Jamie fails in his efforts, he can blame the whole thing on Master Maitland, who, as we all know, is nae popular wi’ the earls.”
“Then we ride at dawn,” said Alex quietly. “The king may have his power, but he canna hae ours, too.”
Velvet was up to see them go, kissing Francis Stewart-Hepburn on the cheek and bidding him Godspeed. “When you return toHermitage, give my love to Cat. I’m praying for you both that this thing will soon be settled.”
He nodded his appreciation. “Keep well, sweetheart. Tis a precious burden ye’re carrying for BrocCairn now.”
Alex kissed his wife. “I’ll be gone only five or six days, lass. Ye need hae no fear. We hae no near enemies, and the castle is impregnable against simple raids, and besides, we’ve hae no problems in recent years.”
“Dugald can advise me,” she said, and then kissed him back. “Go carefully, my lord.”
She watched from the drawbridge as Alex’s party made their way down the narrow road into the glen. It was the first time since their reunion a year ago that they had been separated. A year ago, she thought. Her daughter would be two years of age now. Velvet wondered what she looked like. She would be walking now. Her vocabulary would be increasing. Did she speak Persian or Hindi? Probably both. For a moment Velvet felt pain in the region of her heart, but she firmly pushed aside the temptation to feel sorry for herself. Yasaman was lost to her, but within her body a new child was growing. By the time another year had passed she would have another baby to love and worry over.
In the village below the people of Broc Ailien had come out of their houses to see Francis Stewart-Hepburn, for as careful as Alex had been to keep Bothwell’s visit a secret, it was known that he would be passing. To the villagers he was a hero, and, knowing the danger in which he stood, they would not gossip about his presence or betray him to strangers. They would, however, enjoy this event amongst themselves.
Watching the earl pass, Alanna Wythe spoke to her lover, who stood hidden behind the doorway. “There is a reward on his head. God’s nightshirt, how I wish it were within our power to collect it!”
“Dinna be foolish, Alanna. How could we possibly capture Lord Bothwell and get him to Edinburgh?”
“I know a way if only you had the retainers to accomplish it,” she said, “but you don’t, and so we can’t. ’Tis a pity, Ian. I should like to go away with you as we have talked.”
She had piqued his interest. “How?” he asked.
