The Kadin - Bertrice Small [199]
They were so young to be motherless, but at least Patrick who was eight, little Charles who had just celebrated his seventh year, and Andrew who was five, would have memories of their lovely mother. David at eighteen months and baby Heather would not It was sad.
Lord Hay, quietly coming in, put a reassuring arm about her. “Ye’ll manage, sweetheart.”
“Ah, Colly! I must be getting old.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“You?” He laughed. “Never, my darling! If ye live to be a hundred, ye’ll nae be old! Never!” Folding her in his arms the big, bluff earl, his dark hair finally showing silver gray, comforted her. “Yer deep in a fit of the glooms, hinny. Do ye think I don’t know how ye loved Fiona?” He stroked her lovely hair. “It will pass. It will pass. Right now the important thing is to help the children. How confused they must be wi’out Fiona.”
Safe in her lover’s arms Janet cried for the first time since Fiona’s death. Great wracking sobs shook her body, and the sound of her weeping filled the chamber. Her grief gradually eased, and she buried her swollen face in Lord Hay’s chest
“I must look a sight” she murmured.
“I have never seen ye look lovelier, my dear,” he said raising her face up. “Marry me, Jan”
“Really, Colly! I am in mourning.”
“I dinna believe it!” he returned.
“What?”
“Do ye realize this is the first time in seven years ye haven’t given me an outright No?”
She gave a watery chuckle. “It’s my weakened condition.”
“Never, madame! I will wager ye have never been in a weakened condition.”
The outburst had done her good. Leaving her son, Charles, to his grief, she began to reorganize the household and the children. One thing she refused to give up, however, was her privacy. She did not move into the East Wing of the castle, but the doors between the two wings were now always open.
Each of the younger children had a nursemaid of its own and lived in the communal nursery. Patrick and little Charles had been given at age six their own quarters and a tutor to oversee them. The older boys took their main meal at mid-day with their grandmother, and when he was there, their father.
The earl of Sithean, was, however, rarely at home now. He had gone to court and offered his services to the king. At the moment those services consisted of merely being charming, witty, and gay. Charles complied with good will. Anything to forget Fiona and the four sons who only reminded him of her. He refused to acknowledge his daughter. After all, had she not been responsible for her mother’s death? Once he brought home a Lady Diana Fergusson.
“Do ye intend to marry her?” asked Janet
“Of course not” he replied carelessly. “She’s my latest leman.”
“Then take your high-bred whore and leave my house,” she commanded. “Because you’re hurt, I’ll not allow you to hurt the children. They’re just beginning to recover.”
He drew himself up proudly, and for the barest moment she was reminded of Selim. “I remind you, madame, that I am the earl of Sithean.”
“True,” she agreed “but Sithean belongs to me, Charles. And I might remind you that you are the earl of Sithean because of me. Don’t you ever wonder how you came by yer tide?”
“The king said ye gave forty years of yer life for Scotland.”
“My God, Charles! The king couldn’t care less that I spent forty years out of Scotland. What mattered to Jamie was that he spent two nights in my bed! I did not solicit his attention, of course. I simply cooperated rather than cry rape when he entered my bed.” She laughed at the look on his face. “Take Lady Fergusson back to Edinburgh, Charles. I dinna care who ye sleep with, my son, but if ye must bring yer whore home, do bring one who’s not so obvious.”
Charles laughed in spite of himself. “By God, mother! There’s no one like you! Shall I take yer love to the king?”
“No, but take my prayers to him and his queen. To lose one child is terrible, but to have lost both their little princes—ah well, they’re both young. There’ll