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Authors: Bertrice Small
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in yer little shepherdess. Jesu!” he swore. “When I catch her this time she’ll not sit down for a month!”
Ellen rounded on him. “Ye’ll nae lay a hand on her. My little lambie! She’s more than three months gone wi yer bairn. She planned to tell ye when ye returned from Glenkirk. What did ye
do
to her to make her flee ye, my poor Cat? Ye must hae done something.”
Patrick flushed.
“So!” pounced Ellen. “Ye did do something!”
“I only made love to her,” Patrick protested. “I’d been wi’out her for three days!”
“If only you Leslie men thought more wi yer heads and less wi yer cocks! So ye ‘made love’ to her? I can see it now.” Her scornful glance swept the room. “Having come home, and wi’out so much as a by-yer-leave, ye fucked her. Was it once or was it twice? Then I’ll wager ye demanded yer dinner.” The earl looked shamefaced, and Ellen snorted. “God, mon! Where’s yer sense? If ye’d been an Englishman or a Frenchie I’d expect stupidity, but a Scotsman knows that a Scotswoman is the most independent of creatures! Well, she’s got a good start on ye now, and ye’ll nae find her easily this time.”
“She canna have gone far,” said Patrick. “She’s run home to her mother, mark my words on it.”
Ellen shook her head sadly at him. “Nay, my lord. If she’s run home to Greyhaven, ‘twill only be to get her jewels, and perhaps steal some gold from her father. But where she’ll go to hide, my lord, I dinna know. She’s never traveled out of the district before.”
“I thought her jewels were at Glenkirk.”
“Nay, my lord. When Mistress Cat fled ye in February I brought them back to Greyhaven, and she knew it.”
For a second Patrick Leslie looked stricken. Then, swinging his legs over the bed, he stood up. Without another word, Ellen handed him his breeches and left the room.
He spoke to Conall. “The nearest horses?”
“In the valley. Gavin Shaw has the nearest farm.”
“Get going,” said the earl. “I’ll meet ye there.”
Conall nodded and left. Patrick finished dressing and went down to the kitchen. Ellen handed him a large sandwich of bread and ham. “Ye can eat as ye walk,” she said.
He nodded his thanks. “Pack everything up here for for me, Ellie. I’ll send someone up for ye by afternoon at the latest. Will ye stay at Glenkirk until I find her? She’s going to need ye more than ever now.”
“I’ll stay. Her apartments have never been properly refurbished, and there’s the nursery to prepare.”
Flashing her a smile, he left A-Cuil and began his walk down to the Shaw farm.
Several hours later Patrick Leslie knew that Ellen had been right. Cat was not at Greyhaven, and a check revealed that her jewelry and a generous portion of her father’s household gold was missing.
He rode to Sithean, and stopped at Ruth’s house in Crannog. Cat was not in either place. At Glenkirk his lovely mother berated him for a fool and demanded, in a voice he had never heard her use before, that he find Cat, and
her
expected grandson.
“James,” she said, “can run the estate for ye while yer gone. Adam and Fiona are, unfortunately, in Edinburgh. They are going to France to visit our cousins.”
“Mother, I dinna even know where to look for Cat.”
She looked at him pityingly. “Ye hae a bit less than six months to find her, my son. Else the next rightful Glenkirk will be born a bastard.”
Groaning with despair, he left the room. Cat Hay would have been terribly happy to see the desperate look on the earl’s face.
Chapter 8
F IONA Leslie pulled her hood over her beautiful face. Looking around to be sure she wasn’t followed, she slipped into the Rose and Thistle Inn. “I seek Mistress Abernethy,” she told the landlord.
“Up the stairs, to the right,” came the answer.
Fiona mounted the stairs. She had no idea who this Abernethy woman was, but when the urchin had shoved the note into her hand, curiosity had overcome good
Ellen rounded on him. “Ye’ll nae lay a hand on her. My little lambie! She’s more than three months gone wi yer bairn. She planned to tell ye when ye returned from Glenkirk. What did ye
do
to her to make her flee ye, my poor Cat? Ye must hae done something.”
Patrick flushed.
“So!” pounced Ellen. “Ye did do something!”
“I only made love to her,” Patrick protested. “I’d been wi’out her for three days!”
“If only you Leslie men thought more wi yer heads and less wi yer cocks! So ye ‘made love’ to her? I can see it now.” Her scornful glance swept the room. “Having come home, and wi’out so much as a by-yer-leave, ye fucked her. Was it once or was it twice? Then I’ll wager ye demanded yer dinner.” The earl looked shamefaced, and Ellen snorted. “God, mon! Where’s yer sense? If ye’d been an Englishman or a Frenchie I’d expect stupidity, but a Scotsman knows that a Scotswoman is the most independent of creatures! Well, she’s got a good start on ye now, and ye’ll nae find her easily this time.”
“She canna have gone far,” said Patrick. “She’s run home to her mother, mark my words on it.”
Ellen shook her head sadly at him. “Nay, my lord. If she’s run home to Greyhaven, ‘twill only be to get her jewels, and perhaps steal some gold from her father. But where she’ll go to hide, my lord, I dinna know. She’s never traveled out of the district before.”
“I thought her jewels were at Glenkirk.”
“Nay, my lord. When Mistress Cat fled ye in February I brought them back to Greyhaven, and she knew it.”
For a second Patrick Leslie looked stricken. Then, swinging his legs over the bed, he stood up. Without another word, Ellen handed him his breeches and left the room.
He spoke to Conall. “The nearest horses?”
“In the valley. Gavin Shaw has the nearest farm.”
“Get going,” said the earl. “I’ll meet ye there.”
Conall nodded and left. Patrick finished dressing and went down to the kitchen. Ellen handed him a large sandwich of bread and ham. “Ye can eat as ye walk,” she said.
He nodded his thanks. “Pack everything up here for for me, Ellie. I’ll send someone up for ye by afternoon at the latest. Will ye stay at Glenkirk until I find her? She’s going to need ye more than ever now.”
“I’ll stay. Her apartments have never been properly refurbished, and there’s the nursery to prepare.”
Flashing her a smile, he left A-Cuil and began his walk down to the Shaw farm.
Several hours later Patrick Leslie knew that Ellen had been right. Cat was not at Greyhaven, and a check revealed that her jewelry and a generous portion of her father’s household gold was missing.
He rode to Sithean, and stopped at Ruth’s house in Crannog. Cat was not in either place. At Glenkirk his lovely mother berated him for a fool and demanded, in a voice he had never heard her use before, that he find Cat, and
her
expected grandson.
“James,” she said, “can run the estate for ye while yer gone. Adam and Fiona are, unfortunately, in Edinburgh. They are going to France to visit our cousins.”
“Mother, I dinna even know where to look for Cat.”
She looked at him pityingly. “Ye hae a bit less than six months to find her, my son. Else the next rightful Glenkirk will be born a bastard.”
Groaning with despair, he left the room. Cat Hay would have been terribly happy to see the desperate look on the earl’s face.
Chapter 8
F IONA Leslie pulled her hood over her beautiful face. Looking around to be sure she wasn’t followed, she slipped into the Rose and Thistle Inn. “I seek Mistress Abernethy,” she told the landlord.
“Up the stairs, to the right,” came the answer.
Fiona mounted the stairs. She had no idea who this Abernethy woman was, but when the urchin had shoved the note into her hand, curiosity had overcome good
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