Until You (14 page)

“You are quite enjoying my distress,” he grumbled. “Well, I am not the one whose bottom will be red each day from all the riding you have ahead of you. While you gallop through the worst of the winter weather I shall be snug at Friarsgate with your good Maybel watching over me and cosseting me with her kind heart and good cooking. And what am I to tell her, cousin?”

“I have written a letter to her, Tom. She will ask you all manner of questions despite it, but you may answer her honestly,” Rosamund told him quietly. “She will blame poor Meg for my behavior, of course,” Rosamund concluded with a smile.

“Aye, she will not believe this reckless behavior of you, my dear girl,” he agreed.

“I must go and bid the queen farewell now,” Rosamund said, and she left the two men together by the fire in the Great Hall where they had all been seated.

The queen was feeling quite well when Rosamund arrived to see her.

“I have never felt better in these circumstances,” she declared.

“The king’s prediction will be a true one, then,” Rosamund responded.

“His predictions are always true,” Margaret Tudor replied. “It is sometimes quite eerie. So, you are leaving me, my old friend.”

“My visit has been wonderful!” Rosamund declared. “And I promise I shall come back to see you when I can.”

“You will not let the war separate us?” the queen asked.

“What war?” Rosamund was puzzled.

“The one that my brother, Henry, will certainly force upon my husband and Scotland,” the queen said. “This marriage between us was to settle the matter for good and all, but it has not. And it is all Hal’s fault! He presses Jamie at every turn. My husband, however, is far wiser than my brother; but eventually Hal will make war on Scotland, and you and I will be separated again, Rosamund.”

“If there is indeed a war, I shall not allow it to harm the friendship that we formed back at your father’s court when we were children, Meg. Whatever the men of this world may do, we women shall remain friends. I shall try and be here for your son’s christening,” she promised, “if not sooner.”

“What of Lord Leslie?” the queen asked, unable to help herself.

“He is coming with me,” Rosamund said. “He says he is not needed at Glenkirk now as his son is capable of managing their lands. And besides, it is easier for him to come with me to Friarsgate than to get back into his Highland eyrie with this weather.”

“Then you shall not be separated,” the queen said. “Oh, Rosamund, I am glad! For all I have teased you, I can see that you love him and he you. It is so strange, but there it is. God bless you both!”

“Why, thank you, Meg,” Rosamund said, and then she embraced the queen.

 

The following day dawned clear and very cold. It would take them two days to ride to Leith, Scotland’s main port on Firth of Forth. Logan assumed that they were riding to Edinburgh. They might have made the journey in a single day but that Lord Leslie did not feel young Mistress Hepburn was up to such a trip.

“She is young, but delicately made,” he noted. “It will be a hard enough venture for her, I fear.”

They overnighted at an inn near Linlithgow. It was a small establishment, and the two women were put into a chamber with another female traveler and Annie, while the men were shown into a dormitory with others of their sex. Rosamund found their situation very amusing until the bride sought to confide in her.

“Madame,” Jeannie began, “you are a lady of some experience, and I mean you no disrespect when I say that, but I need a woman’s advice.”

God’s boots, Rosamund thought to herself, but she drew a deep breath and said, “Are you certain you are not violating a confidence, Mistress Hepburn? Some things are meant to remain between a wife and her husband.”

“Nay, I do not believe I tell a tale I should not. I simply wish to know whether all men are so enthusiastic in their bed sport. And how often is it proper for a husband to couple with his wife?” She blushed as she spoke, the color rising swiftly to stain her pale cheeks.

“You are fortunate in your husband’s enthusiasm,” Rosamund replied. “It means he enjoys your company. And he may have your favors as often as he desires them, unless, of course, you are well along with child or your monthly courses are upon you. Men enjoy their bed sport differently than women do. It is the way God made them.”

“Aye, you are right,” Jeannie said slowly. “Thank you. My mother died when I was ten, and I was sent to the convent. The nuns do not know about such things; nor would they speak of them if they did. It is too worldly.”

Rosamund asked, “Were you unhappy to leave the convent, Mistress Hepburn?”

“Nay. But I had no sister or friend or other lady with whom to speak about these intimate things and I went to my marriage bed quite ignorant. But my husband was very kind and most patient with me,” Jeannie concluded.

“I am glad,” Rosamund told her. “Men sometimes do not understand innocence. They can be rough creatures. They mean no harm usually. It is just their way.”

“Oh, thank you, madame!” Jeannie said, and the gratitude in her voice was palpable. “I did not know what to think. May I ask one more question of you?”

Oh lord, save me!
But Rosamund nodded, smiling. “Of course.”

“Is it proper that I enjoy it when my husband and I couple?” came the naive query.

“Did you enjoy it?” Rosamund was fascinated in spite of herself.

“Oh, very much!” Jeannie admitted, blushing deeply once again.

“It is proper,” Rosamund told her. “Indeed, it is good that you do.”

“I suppose we should get some sleep,” Jeannie said softly. “I expect tomorrow and the days to follow will be long ones. Is it far to Claven’s Carn?”

“If the weather holds it will take you several more days past Edinburgh,” Rosamund told the young girl. “Your home is on the border, and you are nearer to England than anything else Scotch.”

“I have been told the English are very fierce, madame. Is it true?” Jeannie’s blue eyes were wide with her interest.

“I am English, Mistress Hepburn. Do you find me fierce?” Rosamund teased the girl gently.

Jeannie giggled. “Nay, madame.”

“Go to sleep, then, lass, and do not worry yourself so much. You have married a good man, and you will be happy at Claven’s Carn,” Rosamund told her.

 

In the morning they departed even before the sun was up, riding for several hours until they reached a fork in the road where there were two directional signs. One said “Edinburgh” and the other said “Leith.” The Earl of Glenkirk stopped in the crossroad, and Tom rode up next to him.

“ ’Tis here we part company, Tom,” Patrick said quietly, and he signaled to Logan to join them. “Keep the ladies company, and make your farewells to your cousin while I speak with the laird.”

“Godspeed, Patrick!” Lord Cambridge said. “I hope we will meet again.” He shook the earl’s hand, then moved off to join Rosamund and Mistress Hepburn.

“What is this about, my lord?” Logan demanded. He was not at all happy that he had been traveling with this man and Rosamund for the past two days.

“What I am about to tell you, Logan Hepburn, must go no farther. I tell you this on the king’s order. Do you understand?”

The laird nodded, now intrigued. “I understand, my lord, and you have my word that whatever you tell me I will not repeat.”

“The queen,” the earl began, “enjoys a good jest. She found it amusing, not aware of why we were really departing the court, to put us together in our travels. She believes that Rosamund’s daughter is ill, and Rosamund is going to her. She believes I am accompanying Rosamund. She is fully aware of the relationship you desired to forge with the lady of Friarsgate and thinks it humorous that you and your bride travel with us. But Rosamund’s daughter is not ill, and we are not going to Friarsgate. The king has delegated me to undertake a secret diplomatic mission for him. As you are aware, I have not been to court or out of my Highlands for eighteen years. Consequently, no one would even consider that the king would appoint me to such a duty. Nor is anyone other than the king aware of what I am to do or where I am going. I cannot even tell you, Logan Hepburn. I told the king I would do his bidding if Rosamund could come with me.”

“What if she hadn’t wanted to go?” the laird demanded. He was, in spite of it all, jealous of this man who had somehow stolen Rosamund from him. “Rosamund loves Friarsgate and dislikes being away from it for very long.”

“Nonetheless she agreed to go with me,” the Earl of Glenkirk said quietly.

“How can you love each other so on such short acquaintance?” Logan burst out, unable to help himself from the question.

“I do not know,” the earl admitted honestly. “All I can tell you is that until Rosamund I had just existed, and I never even knew it. From the moment our eyes met we have desired nothing more than to be together.”

“She will never desert Friarsgate,” Logan said.

“Nor will I desert Glenkirk. But until the time comes when we must return to our duties, however long a time that is, we shall be together.”

“Do you love her?” he asked, his look tortured.

“I have always loved her,” came the strange reply.

“She loves you,” Logan said, almost bitterly.

“Aye, she does,” Patrick said simply.

“That you are leaving us here says you are going to Leith,” the laird of Claven’s Carn said.

“We sail tonight,” was the reply.

“Rosamund was never a girl for adventure,” Logan remarked. “She has changed so suddenly that I cannot believe she is the same girl. Have you bewitched her, my lord?”

The Earl of Glenkirk laughed. “Nay,” he said, “although we both considered such a thing that first night. She has told me she isn’t adventurous, and yet she is willing to come across a sea with me. Such is the power of our love. But it is not witchcraft, Logan Hepburn. Now, Tom Bolton will travel with you as far as Claven’s Carn, and Rosamund would appreciate it if your clansmen would escort him over the border back to Friarsgate. He holds her authority so that her uncle Henry cannot interfere should he learn she isn’t there. She fears for her lasses. Will you do that for her?”

“There is nothing she could ask me that I would not do,” Logan said.

“Laddie, laddie,” the earl replied, shaking his head at the younger man, “Bothwell gave you a sweet wife. Be true to her, and put my fair Rosamund from your thoughts. She would not have wed you even if we had not met. She is not ready to remarry, and I know she tried to explain that to you, but you would not hear what she had to say. You wanted a wife upon whom to get your heirs. You have one. Take her back to Claven’s Carn and put a bairn in her belly. Rosamund and I will be far away from Scotland.”

“And when you return, my lord?” the laird asked.

“I do not know. But when we do return I hope we shall hear that you have a healthy son, Logan Hepburn.” He held out his hand. “Now, shake my hand, for I already have your word that you will not divulge what we have discussed. Then bid us Godspeed. If I can accomplish what the king desires, we may prevent a war.”

The laird of Claven’s Carn took the Earl of Glenkirk’s big, gloved hand and shook it. “Then I do bid you Godspeed, my lord, and reassure you again that my lips are sealed in your secret matter. Tell Rosamund that I will see Tom Bolton is brought safe and sound back to Friarsgate.” Then he turned his mount and rejoined his wife and the clansmen who were accompanying them.

Rosamund and Tom moved forward. The Englishman took his cousin’s hand in his. “Be careful, dearest girl, and come home safe to us when you can,” he said.

“You have the letter for Maybel and Edmund?” she asked him for the third time.

“I do,” he said, and he kissed her hand. “Godspeed, cousin,” Tom told her, and then he rejoined the laird’s party as they moved off down the road to Edinburgh.

“You are certain?” Patrick asked Rosamund.

She nodded. “I am.” Then she turned to Annie. “ ’Tis now or never, lassie.”

“I’m coming!” Annie said firmly. “ ’Twill be something to tell my grandchildren one day,” she finished with a grin.

“Then, let us go,” the earl said, and he signaled to his manservant, Dermid More.

The little party of four, each mounted, turned onto the Leith road and headed for the port. The day remained very cold, but bright. They reached Leith in the late afternoon as the sun was setting behind them, making their way to the Mermaid Inn on the waterfront.

It was a large and prosperous establishment, and its courtyard was bustling busily. Dermid dismounted first and went into the inn. He returned a few moments later.

“Captain Daumier is awaiting us in a private room, my lord,” he reported.

“We’ll go in, then. You know the way, Dermid?” the earl asked, sliding off his horse and then helping Rosamund from hers.

Dermid nodded, then aided Annie to dismount.

“My bottom is fair sore,” Annie said with a sigh. She followed her mistress and the earl into the inn as Dermid led the way. It was a back route, and they neatly avoided the public rooms by taking it. At the end of a narrow hallway was a door, and Dermid knocked upon it, then opened the portal to usher his master and their party inside.

A portly gentleman arose from a chair by the fire and came forward. “Lord Leslie?” he asked.

“I am Patrick Leslie,” the earl replied.

The gentleman nodded. “Jean-Paul Daumier, captain of
La Petite Reine
,” he said.

“I was told we are to sail tonight, captain. Is everything on schedule?” Patrick Leslie queried.

“But, of course, my lord!” came the firm answer. “The weather is fair, and will remain that way for a few more days, thanks to
le bon Dieu
. We have good northwest winds, and your passage should be a swift one. Be advised that I will be hugging the English coast for several days so that if the weather turns we can make port safely. We’ll cross the Strait of Dover to Calais, then sail on to Boulogne, and if the weather is still good I can get you as far as Le Havre, but no farther. The weather will turn sooner than later, and I’ll not cross the Bay of Biscay at this time of year. I’m just a coastal freighter.”