“I do not have to take her back, Jamie. We’re married,” replied the earl sullenly.
The king’s face grew mottled with his anger. They were always arguing with him, these nobles of his! It made no difference that, thanks to his grandfather, he was related to half of Scotland. Even blood ties made no difference here. Scotland’s nobility were headstrong and determined to defy their rulers.
“Dammit, Alex, don’t ye realize the seriousness of what ye’ve done?” he growled. “Ye’ve kidnapped one of Elizabeth Tudor’s Maids of Honor! Her entire family is in an uproar and are demanding her return. More important, my cousin England is demanding that you bring her back.”
“Since when have Scotland’s rulers obeyed England’s orders?” mocked the Earl of BrocCairn.
“Scotland will one day inherit England, Alex, and I would be welcomed by the English when that day comes. I look to my future. I have no desire to engage England in even a small war. Particularly over a wench, however pretty,” he amended with a small smile toward Velvet.
Her green eyes twinkled back at him, and she said, “I am only too happy to obey the queen’s order, Your Majesty, and to return home.”
“Did ye truly marry this rogue, Mistress de Marisco?”
“Nay, sire.”
“Christ’s bones!” The oath exploded forcefully from Alex’s angry mouth. “Ye’re wed wi’ me well and true, Velvet!” He turned back to the king. “She’s twice wed to me. Once by handfast admission, and the second time by a parson of yer new kirk.”
“I most certainly don’t accept your handfast marriage,” Velvet snapped. “And since we are both members of the holy Catholic church, I do not accept a ceremony performed by a preacher of the Calvinist faith.”
“Just where was the ceremony performed?” demanded the king.
“AtHermitage,”replied Bothwell, and he smiled blandly.
“At Hermitage?”The king looked somewhat surprised. “Why in hell atHermitage?”
“Ye could hardly expect me to allow Alex to bed her without the proprieties, Jamie.” drawled Bothwell. “Yer advisors, including yer sour-faced chaplain, are always accusing me of being immoral, but even a reprobate like myself recognizes a respectable virgin.”
The king laughed in spite of himself. “I’m surprised ye were able to get a man of God to step intoHermitage, Francis.”
“Only the very ignorant or, worse, the very superstitious, believe the gossip that I’m a warlock, Jamie,” came Francis Stewart-Hepburn’s disconcerting reply. The Earl of Bothwell knew full well that his cousin, the king, was secretly terrified of him and believed everything detrimental that was said about him. On the other hand, James admired the man they called the Border lord, “the Uncrowned King of Scotland,” for Francis Stewart-Hepburn was everything James Stewart wished he could be.
“Ye delight in the damned controversy that always swirls about ye,” muttered the king, and Bothwell smiled, amused by his royal cousin’s sudden astuteness.
James looked at Alex. “Take her back to London, Alex. I will nae accept a refusal from ye in this matter! The Earl of Lynmouth and a party of the queen’s own Gentlemen Pensioners will be waiting for ye just over the border to escort ye back to my cousin England’s court. The queen says that ye’re welcome back despite yer rather wild behavior.” The king chuckled in spite of himself. “Dammit, Alex, ye behaved just like an ancient Scot. Bride-stealing is no longer the fashion.”
“Yer majesty sets the fashion, and I’m told ye seek a bride,” commented Alex. “I only sought to emulate yer good example.”
“Ha!” The king snorted. “Ye sought to have yer own way, cousin. Ye wanted the lass now, and so ye took her! Nay, dinna deny it, for I know ye well! Ye’ve ever been a stubborn man, even when we were lads together.”
Velvet stood quietly watching the three men. For a moment they had forgotten her, and she was frankly relieved. They were cousins, and there was a definite family resemblance amongst them. The king and BrocCairn had the amber-gold eyes of the Stewarts; Bothwell and James had the auburn hair of their clan. All three had the Stewart nose. There, however, the resemblance ended, for although the king was a total Stewart in face and form, Bothwell was obviously more a Hepburn and Alex more a Gordon. The two earls had strong, determined faces, whereas the king’s features bespoke a weakness that even Velvet could see.
“Let us stay a few days here at court, Jamie,” Alex pleaded. “Velvet is exhausted wi’ all our traveling.”
“And would ye like that, Mistress de Marisco?” The king looked sharply at her.
To refuse would have been ungracious and Velvet knew it. She smiled sweetly at James Stewart and replied, “Aye, Your Majesty. I should very much like to stay for a few days before my return to England.”
“Very well, Mistress de Marisco, ye shall have yer visit wi’ us.” Having gotten his way, the king was feeling more gracious now.
“Dammit, Jamie, she’s Lady Gordon now. Whether she is willing to recognize it or not, surely ye must. Unless, of course, ye’re saying that the new kirk is nae Scotland’s church. I am certain some of the earls would be quite fascinated by this recent change of heart of yers. Do ye lean back toward the old and true faith then?” Alex smiled wolfishly at the king.
Bothwell hid a grin. Here was a man after his own heart! He suspected that whatever church Alex had been raised in made no difference to him at all, but he would play on the king’s fears in order to get his own way. He smothered his laughter for he had done exactly the same thing on many an occasion when dealing with their cousin James. Fear was Jamie Stewart’s sharp spur.
The king shot Bothwell an angry look, for he had heard his low chuckle. Then he looked to his cousin of BrocCairn, saying, “Ye’ve developed unpleasant habits the few days ye’ve been in Francis’s company, Alex. Remember that I am yer king.”
“I nae forget it, Jamie, but ye canna have it both ways. If ye’re to have any credibility wi’ yer English cousin, ye’ll have to tell her that Velvet and I were married legally and lawfully, else ye deny yer own church and a law that goes back centuries. I dinna think ye will want to do that, cousin. If ye do, ye’ll have all the ranting preachers of fire and brimstone tearing yer kingdom apart with the earls joining in as they did in yer mother’s time.”
“You’re not married to me until we are wed in our own church,” Velvet interrupted.
