The Kadin - Bertrice Small [5]
Janet continued. “Look, father.” She pulled her skirt tight across her flat belly, revealing a wide span between hip bones. “Grandmother says I’m meant to bear children. So do Brother Dundas and Padre Gian.”
“Goddamn your grandmother and those prattling priests to Hell!” he shouted explosively. “I’ll not see you wed at fourteen! What do you know of marriage, and for God’s sake, don’t quote the catechism to me! You think it will be all fetes and hunting parties. Well let me tell you, my fine lady, it won’t be! You’ll be expected to produce an heir posthaste, and then protect the precious succession with a gaggle of brothers and sisters. At the first sign you are with child, you’ll be cloistered like a nun. As for Rudi, you’ll scarce see him, except for the bed!”
“That’s not so!” Janet stamped her foot at him. “Rudi is every bit the gentle knight”
“Aye, in the courting. But once the marriage is consummated and you are big with child, he’ll be off with some appealing creature like the one who waits for me now.”
“I’ll have him get me with child,” she retorted defiantly. “Then you’ll have to let us wed!”
Patrick Leslie grabbed his willful daughter by her arms and stared down into her face. His fingers pressed cruelly into her soft flesh. His voice was dangerously low. “I’ll not be defied, mistress. If you should dare to try to force my hand, I’ll ship you back to Scotland to a convent; and, bairn or no, you’ll remain there until you rot! Do you really think Rudi would wait? He’d marry some Medici or some princess from Toulouse.” Releasing her, he took the heart-shaped face in his strong hand and looked down at his stubborn daughter. “Och, Jan. I’ve had you such a short time. Would you leave me so soon?”
“But, father, I am a woman.”
“By scarce two months,” he observed wryly.
“Oh, you are impossible,” she shouted.
Patrick burst into laughter. “All right, you witch. I’ll compromise with you, but only providing my physician says you are strong and fit If he agrees, the betrothal will be announced next Christmas as Duke Sebastian desires.”
Janet’s face lit up.
“But” he continued, “the wedding will not take place until your fifteenth birthday.”
Janet picked up her skirts and danced about the room. Thank you, father! Thank you! I must go tell Grandmother Mary and Adam.” Whirling by him, she planted a kiss on his cheek and danced out of the room “You may go in now,” she told the waiting brunette.
3
JANET LESLIE’S BETROTHAL DAY dawned clear, bright and warm. It was December 6, the feast of Saint Nicholas. Lying quietly in her bed, Janet allowed herself the luxury of a few moments’ peace before the day to come. She was very excited and, at the same time, frightened at the finality of the step she was taking.
At noon her father would lead her into the cathedral in Arcobaleno where she and Rudi would be formally betrothed by the bishop. On her fifteenth birthday, which was just two years and six days away, she would be wed. She shivered in happy anticipation.
Entering the room, Flora, her maid, called softly, “Mistress, it is time you were up. Your bath is waiting.”
She helped the girl arise and removed her nightgown. Walking across the cool tile floor, Janet stepped into her bath. It was scented with roses. Flora, a stern older woman who had been with Janet since she was four, scrubbed the girl vigorously, then, commanding her to stand, poured clean water over Janet to rinse her creamy skin. Toweling her dry, she sat her young mistress down and pared both her finger-and toenails.
Mary MacKay entered the room, followed by two servant girls who carried Janet’s betrothal gown. It was her first adult dress, and she eagerly stepped into it Mary looked fondly at her granddaughter. There is nothing at all of my Meg in her, she thought Janet is pure Leslie.
Gazing at her image in the mirror, young Lady Janet Leslie knew she