He knew that she was right. She had been angered to learn that her brother’s friend was actually her dreaded betrothed, but never had she really considered refusing his suit, and he knew it. He had been the one who had stolen her from London and tricked her into her marriage vows. If his first son was not born atDun Broche had no one to blame but himself. “We’ll be wed in England in our own church with yer family about us, Velvet. How can I refuse ye now, lass? I love ye so very much!”
Her face lit up, and she twisted about so that she was facing him. “Thank you, Alex! Oh, thank you!”
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life, this thorny English rose. With a helpless groan he kissed her, feeling his desire begin to rise once more. She melted against him, her lips parting, her little tongue teasing his in a surprisingly bold action. “Tell me ye love me,” he murmured against her mouth. “Tell me!”
“I love you, my wild Scot!” she whispered back, and then he swept her away into a world of exquisite sensation, their passions being their only guide.
Two days later they left Edinburgh on their way south, this time traveling with a large party made up of Bothwell’s Borderers and Alex’s Gordon retainers, who had arrived the following day fromDun Broc.They broke their journey again atHermitagebut only stayed a night. The next day the Earl of Bothwell, at his cousin the king’s orders, escorted the Earl and Countess of BrocCairn over the border to meet with the Earl of Lynmouth and his party of the queen’s Gentlemen Pensioners.
Robert Southwood did not seem happy, his sister noted as they rode toward him. He sat upon a white stallion that danced nervously as he held it tightly in check. Lord Bothwell’s midnight-colored Valentine whinnied a challenge and was also reined in tightly by his master.
Velvet winced delicately. “Robin looks angry,” she whispered to Alex. “Which one of us do you think he is angry at?”
“I suspect both of us,” came his answer, “but as long as we stand together I have no fears, lass.”
“Greetings, my lord!” Bothwell called as they came abreast of the English party. Technically they were now over the border, but in the Cheviots national boundaries were extremely fluid. “I am Francis Stewart-Hepburn, His Majesty’s most loyal cousin. Which one of ye is the Earl of Lynmouth?”
Robin moved his mount forward. “I am, my lord Bothwell. I am Robert Southwood, Mistress de Marisco’s brother.”
Bothwell grinned lazily. The young man reminded him of the angels he had seen portrayed in the stained-glass windows of French cathedrals. He was absolutely gorgeous, and yet Francis noted the hard line of the Englishman’s mouth and his wary, lime-green eyes. “Then ’tis to ye I am instructed to turn over Lord and Lady Gordon, for I am bound to tell ye that yer sister and Lord Gordon were legally wed at my own castle of Hermitage. His Majesty, King James, expects to see the Earl and Countess of BrocCairn returned safely within a reasonable time, y’understand, my lord?”
“I am not privy to any agreements made between Her Majesty and your own king, my lord. I only know I am instructed to bring my sister and Lord Gordon back to London with dispatch,” came Robin’s cool reply.
Bothwell turned to Velvet. “Does he ever smile, this brother of yers, m’lady?”
“Often, but, Francis, I suspect he is angered at me now for taking him from his own bride of but two months,” Velvet replied.
“You’re damned right I’m angry!” snapped Robin. “There is a chance that Angel is breeding already, and I’ve had to leave her down atLynmouthto come tearing after you two!”
“How are my nieces?” Velvet queried sweetly, hoping that her concern for Robin’s daughters would soften his wrath.
“A bloody false alarm! They had eaten green apples was all, the little gluttons! We hurried all the way from London, and they were as merry as drunks when we arrived! One cannot follow the court and raise children successfully. After you and Alex are settled, I shall retire to Devon again.”
“Then we are to besettled!”She looked anxiously at him.
“Aye, you baggage! I’d have let you go toDun Broc, Velvet, believe me, but the queen would have none of it. She has planned your wedding herself, and the ceremony will be performed the day after the Armada thanksgiving, on November eighteenth. Then you and Alex are to remain at court until Mother returns in the spring. After that you’re free to go your own way.”
“Then having safely delivered ye, lassie, I shall return toHermitage,” Lord Bothwell said. “I regret I cannot be at yer grand English wedding, but I shall think of ye on that day and remember that I had the privilege of being at yer first wedding. Break yer journey next spring atHermitage.I shall happily welcome ye both.” Then, leaning from his saddle, he kissed her cheek. “Godspeed, fair Velvet.”
She returned the kiss graciously. “Thank you, Francis.” She hesitated a moment, then said, “For everything!” He alone would understand what she meant.
Alex and his cousin shook hands, their eyes meeting in a look of understanding, and then Bothwell whirled Valentine about and galloped off, his men riding behind him, shouting, “A Bothwell! A Bothwell!”
“So that was the famous Wizard Earl,” said Robin. “Impressive chap! Far more so than King Jamie himself, I’m told. What think you, Alex?”
“James was born a king,” he said, “but our cousin Francis is more a king born. Still, the Bothwells make enemies as history has proven. They could no more rule Scotland than the Stewarts can.”
Robin nodded. “Let’s go!” he replied. “We have a long way to ride. Once we get farther south I can arrange for a coach for Velvet.”
“Nay! You’ll not stuff me in one of those swaying, hard-sprung vehicles,” she protested. “I’d sooner ride!”
“What of Pansy?” came her brother’s answer.
“Not to worry, m’lord. My bottom’s tough as leather now anyhow,” was Pansy’s saucy reply.
“Pansy!” Velvet attempted to look shocked, but she was as amused as her brother and her husband were.
“It’s almost like being with Mother, isn’t it, Pansy?” teased Robin.
