The Kadin - Bertrice Small [2]
Mary bundled the child into a woolen cloak and took her outside where her father, already mounted on his horse, waited. Handing the child up, she said, “Dinna grieve, Patrick. Ye must think of the children now.”
“I know, Mary, I know.” And, wheeling his horse around, he rode back through the fast-darkening day toward Glenkirk Castle, his small daughter seated before him on his saddle.
PART I
The Ambassador’s Daughter
1490–1493
1
WIPING HIS HANDS on his shirt, James IV, king of Scotland and the Mes, leaned back in his chair and surveyed the scene before him. On his left sat Patrick Leslie, lord of Glenkirk, who at the moment was engaged in conversation with James’s lovely mistress.
James’s eyes swept the room. A minstrel sang a sad song of the Borders, and the unusually warm March day made the hall reek of the long, unaired winter. The king noted from beneath hooded eyelids that many eyes were darting back and forth between himself and Patrick Leslie. Good, he thought Let the scheming bastards wonder! Dear God! Why are there so few I can trust? But he already knew the answer to that question.
On his right sat the Hepburn of Hailes, newly created earl of Bothwell, who, James saw, had an ardent admirer in the person of a young red-headed girl who was sneaking a look at Bothwell from beneath her lashes.
“They say you seek to wed with a Gordon, my lord.”
“At court only two days, Mistress Leslie, and already up on the gossip?” the earl replied, looking down at his little admirer.
“Choose Lady Mary, my lord. She is bonnie and sweet of temper.”
“And Lady Jane?” said Bothwell.
“She has cat’s eyes and the Devil’s own temper—so I am told,” she added demurely.
Lady Jane Gordon, who was sitting on the other side of the earl, glowered at the child. “Since when does my cousin Jamie allow young brats at his table?” she demanded.
“I am not a brat my lady.”
Lady Jane Gordon rose from her seat “I have half a mind to box your impudent ears,” she snapped.
The little girl stood, legs apart, facing her beautiful antagonist “‘Stand Fast’ is my family’s motto. Yours is something about ‘cunning,’ isn’t it Lady Jane?”
The room became deathly quiet as Lady Jane Gordon, hands raised, advanced on Janet Leslie. But Janet didn’t wait for the regal hands of Lady Jane to smack her. Instead, fists flying, nails raking, Janet flew at her.
Caught off guard, Lady Jane Gordon screamed in surprise and tried to protect herself. Laughing, the earl of Bothwell stood up and, prying the child loose, swung her up in his arms.
“Put me down,” shrieked Janet beating at his chest with her hands.
“Hold, lassie, the battle is over, and you’ve won. Hush now,” murmured the earl, setting her down.
Janet looked up at him with her green eyes.
“Give us a smile now, lass.”
The corners of the little girl’s mouth curled up, and she said, “You smell of heather and the moors, my lord.”
Bothwell grinned delightedly, and the king snapped, “Will someone send that flirtatious minx to her bed before she starts a feud between the Leslies and my Gordon cousins?”
Patrick Leslie rose and walked over to claim his wayward daughter.
Janet’s face darkened. “I’ll not go,” she shouted, “unless Bothwell takes me!”
The hall erupted with the loud guffaws of the men mingled with the embarrassed titters of the women, all of whom knew too well the earl’s reputation with the ladies.
“God’s nightgown,” roared James. “How old is that wench of yours, Leslie?”
“Ten, sire.”
“God help us all when she’s fourteen! Shell turn this court upside down. Very well, my lady Janet Lord Both-well will escort you to your apartments. Leslie, you come with me.” James faced the hall. “The rest of you, get out and go back to your schemes and intrigues! The feast is over.”
The king moved swiftly to his own quarters with Glenkirk following. Settling himself in a chair, he looked up at the Highland chief standing before him.
“So, my lord of Glenkirk, it takes a royal summons to get you to court,”