The Kadin (37 page)

“My dear Anne,” said the beautiful woman, “how kind of you to shelter me in your home.” The countess felt herself kissed on each cheek. “I do hope,” the voice went on, “you will forgive me for appropriating the West Tower, but your good Hannah said it was not being used I am sure you worked hard to prepare charming quarters for me, but I thought I should be less trouble to you here out of the way. It will only be until my own house is built.”

“Yes, yes. Whatever pleases you,” Anne heard herself say. “You are building a house? Where?”

“Adam has sold me some land Glen Rae, the loch and its island for 250 pounds. I know I am wicked to spurn your hospitality, but I shall not be happy until I am in my own home again. Besides it will be a fine legacy for Charles and his family, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes! A fine legacy. I hope you will forgive me for invading your privacy, but I did want to be sure that everything had been done for your comfort”

“How kind you are,” murmured Janet sweetly. “I see, dear sister, that you admire my caftan,”

“What?”

“My gown. It is called a caftan in the East A loose garment for relaxation. I have brought you one. Ruth, the scarlet caftan, and matching slippers.”

Before Anne could protest Ruth was hurrying out of the garderobe carrying a folded scarlet gown and slippers. She held it up for her mistress’s inspection, and Anne gasped The caftan’s embroidery was of tiny diamonds, turquoise and gold thread

“When Adam told me of your wonderful dark brown hair and fair complexion, I had this made for you.” Instinctively Janet had played on her sister-in-law’s vanity. “Dinna refuse me, Anne.”

For a moment the countess’s features softened as she fingered the lovely silk. “Thank you, Janet It is the loveliest thing I hae ever owned.”

“I am so pleased I chose well,” said Janet “Now, dear sister, you must excuse me. The day has been a long one, and I would rest before the dinner hour.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” replied the countess allowing herself to be led out

A few minutes later Marian returned to her mistress. “Ah, madame, the Lady Anne came to cause trouble, but you have confused her completely.”

“For the moment my friend. I was expecting an attack and acted accordingly. However, dear Anne will recover quickly and try to attack again. It will be amusing to play with her. She is her own worst enemy.”

“I am happy to see you have recovered from your melancholy,” chuckled Marian. She drew the coverlet over her mistress. “I will call you in time for dinner madame.”

Janet lay quietly, her green-gold eyes closed. I am home, she thought I have fulfilled a childhood promise and come home. I wonder what will happen next?

41

B
Y THE TIME ANNE
L
ESLIE
reached her apartments she was beginning to recover from the severe shock she had received upon discovering that her sister-in-law was not only beautiful, but obviously extremely wealthy. It would take a readjustment in her thinking to decide what to do and how to handle the situation. In the meantime she needed someone upon whom to vent her frustration. Unfortunately the earl chose that moment to appear in his wife’s rooms.

“Ah, my dear, I was looking for you.”

“I have been wi’ your sister—if she is yer sister. For a woman over fifty, she is remarkably youthful.”

“Isn’t she?” smiled Adam. “But then father was eighty when he died last year, and yet no one would believe his age. Most took him for sixty-five or so.”

“You look your age!”

“I also look like my mother’s family. Jan is pure Leslie.”

Anne took another tact “I can believe she’s pure Leslie. She has high-handedly appropriated the West Tower!”

“It wasn’t being used,” he replied. “I thank God my sister dinna see the room you
did
prepare for her! What were you thinking of, Anne? A tiny room no bigger than a nun’s cell next to the servants’ quarters in the oldest part of the castle—wi’ no fireplace and only a pallet bed and one chest”

“I believed I was receiving an elderly woman who would need peace and quiet.”

“But no heat,” finished the earl wryly. “Anne, yer a bitch! Janet is my sister, and the odds that I would find her were incredible. My father grieved most of his life for her. I only wished to heaven he’d lived another year to see her safe home. She is to hae whatever she wants in this house!”

“From what I gather she already had, m’lord. How could you sell part of our son’s inheritance? And for only 250 pounds?!”

“250 pounds
gold,
my dear avaricious wife.”

“Gold?”

“Gold,” smiled Adam Leslie. “And Janet is entitled to Leslie land. Like our son, she, too, was born a Leslie.” So saying, he turned on his heel, and left his countess openmouthcd.

But Anne’s ordeal for the day was not quite over. She went down to dinner to find her beautiful sister-in-law the center of a happy family gathering. Janet was clad in a simple, high-necked, long-sleeved gown of midnight blue silk with creamy lace showing at the neck, and cascading from the wrists. Her lovely hair, center parted and braided in a three tier coronet added elegance. Around her neck was a simple gold chain. Seated on a wooden settle by a fireplace she was surrounded by Fiona, Jane, and—much to Anne’s surprise—Agnes, her daughter, home from the convent The earl, Ian, and Charles, dressed in their kilts, stood on the outside of the group.

For a moment Anne was enchanted by the charming picture, but then a stab of jealousy went through her. Never since she had come into this house as a bride had the hall rung with merriment like this. Never had her own daughter, or daughter-in-law, or even Fiona, laughed with her as they were doing now with Janet The woman was obviously a witch!

The countess walked to the dais. “If ye dinna come to table, the dinner will be burned,” she said sharply. Angrily she watched as her own son seated Janet to his father’s right in his own place and then sat next to her.

During most of the dinner, Anne remained silent listening as they all plied Janet with questions about the East its peoples, and their ways. Wretched godless infidels, thought Anne Leslie. They ought to be burned to ashes. Lewd, lustful creatures openly debauching innocent Christian virgins, male and female. She had heard stories! They should all be destroyed including her sister-in-law who had lived among them What kind of a woman lived for almost forty years in a non-Catholic land and came back unscathed?

Within a week, Janet was thoroughly at home again. To Anne’s dismay, she even allowed a tribe of gypsies to camp for a few days on the estate, and when they left, Janet was the owner of a large, half-wild black stallion that she took to riding at breakneck speed all over the district He was a magnificent beast and she knew it was considered outrageous that she owned him Women were supposed to ride dull, docile brown creatures named Lady, or Princess, not big, sweating black brutes called Devil Wind. Selim had owned such a horse with the same name, and when she had seen her own Devil Wind, she had known she must have him. She had bought him in late June—a skinny, half-broken two-year-old—from a tribe of passing tinkers. She had known at once that he was pure Arab, and consequently had barely haggled the price with their leader. And despite Anne’s carping, Janet had offered the gypsies the hospitality of Leslie lands. The headman had thanked her.

“Majesty, we are grateful for ourselves, and for the horses.” Falling to his knees he made her obeisance.

Startled, she told him to rise. “I am no queen, man!”

He looked at her, his eyes startlingly clear, and bottomless.

“Ye shouldna left him, my lady. He will be great but had ye stayed, he would hae been greater.”

For a moment she could neither speak, nor breathe.

“I see things, my lady. I canna help myself.”

She nodded and, feeling able now to reply, said, “Bring the horse to the castle tomorrow. I’ll pay then—in gold—and dinna try to cheat me by switching horses.”

He flashed her a smile. “And be hunted through half the world, madame?”

She laughed. “Ye see too much, tinker.”

“I see the truth, madame.”

She turned and walked away.

“Allah go we’ ye,” he called softly.

“And ye also,” she replied as softly, never turning back.

When she went riding, Janet was invariably accompanied by Adam’s bastard, Red Hugh More, who had trained Devil Wind.

Anne, on the other hand, had spent a good part of her married life avoiding Hugh More. Despite the fact that he was Adam’s only byblow and had been born before she even came to Glenkirk as Adam’s wife, Anne hated Hugh, and his mother Jeannie.

Jeannie’s family had lived and worked on Leslie lands for as long as anyone could remember. Jeannie had been a sixteen-year-old milkmaid when she had caught Adam’s eye. She hadn’t been a virgin since she was twelve, but she was no wanton. When she told Adam she was expecting his child, the fifteen-year-old boy knew she spoke the truth. When the child was born at Michaelmas, it was obvious that he was Adam’s son; he had his father’s nose, mouth and birthmark on one buttock and his paternal grandfather’s red hair. The Leslies recognized him, and Patrick Leslie held him at the christening while Adam acted as godfather to his son. Jeannie was offered, and accepted, a small cottage on the estate, and a yearly annuity.

She lived quietly with her child, who saw his father quite regularly. Occasionally Adam even sought solace in her bed, for his bride was a cold, proud girl. Jeannie was careful, however, that there were no more children. Hugh was eight when the countess discovered his existence.

Heavy with her second child, mourning the death of her first son, Donald, she had several times passed a boy exiting the family vault in the chapel. Upon entering she had found wildflowers on her baby son’s tomb. She was touched, and after this had happened several times she stopped the boy.

“Do you put flowers on Lord Donald’s tomb?”

“Aye, madame,” came the reply.

“Why?”

Red Hugh More had never seen the countess in his life, so it was in all innocence that he answered, “The bairn were my half-brother.”

Numbed, Anne asked, “Who is yer mother?”

“Jeannie More,” said the boy. “We hae a wee cottage in the glen.”

“And yer father?” Her voice shook slightly.

“The lord Adam, ma’am”

“Do ye ken who I am?”

“Nay, madame.”

“I am lord Adam’s wife, and,” her voice rose shrilly, “I forbid ye to ever come here again! My children are nae related to any peasant whore’s bastard! Get out! I never want to see yer face again!”

The lad fled, and several days afterwards her father-in-law came and spoke to her.

“Leslies acknowledge their own,” he said quietly. “Ye hae been wed wi’ my son six years, and never has he shamed ye as other men do their wives wi’ their amours. I dinna think he will unless ye try his patience greatly. Ye are his lady, yer children my heirs. Only ye can change that”

It was enough. She never spoke of it, and neither did Adam. However, once when visiting a sick woman in the glen she noticed a tall, big-boned woman with brown hair and straightforward blue eyes staring at her. “Who is that?” she asked her waiting woman, Hannah. Hannah hesitated, then replied, “Jeannie More.” Strangely the countess was relieved. She had pictured her rival a lush peasant beauty, hardly this plain, big woman. The knowledge soothed her vanity.

Anne was sure that her sister-in-law had chosen Red Hugh More to captain the men-at-arms she was hiring simply to annoy her. Janet knew her bastard nephew annoyed Anne, but she had chosen him because she knew that the most trustworthy captain of one’s own guards was likely to be a relative. Besides, Janet liked Red Hugh, The big, blue-eyed red-haired giant was loyal, charming, and was already paying court to Marian’s daughter, Ruth.

For the next few months, Janet spent much of her time checking on the progress of Sithean, her new home. Sithean, pronounced “Shee-ann”, meant Fairy Knoll in Gaelic, and Janet had given the estate that name because it was being built on a tiny island believed by the peasants to have been inhabited in ancient times by the fairies.

The island was located almost a quarter of a mile off the main shore of the loch, and an elaborate, heavily fortified bridge had been built linking the two. The castle, built at the narrow end of the island, was surrounded on three sides by water. The remaining land was carefully gardened and terraced with two small pastures set aside for the horses, sheep and cattle. Then as a final precaution, a stone wall, interspersed at even intervals with watch towers was set around the entire island.

“The expense,” moaned Anne one day. “Ye’ve built it to withstand a siege.”

Janet could feel her temper rising, but knowing that sweetness nettled her sister-in-law more than a sharp retort, she replied, “I am a woman alone. Easy prey for the lawless in these hard times. Would you prefer I stay wi’ you and Adam?” She laughed at the look on Anne’s face. “Come, Anne, be honest wi’ me for once. Ye count the days till Sithean is habitable.”

“Ye spend yer gold as though it were endless.”

“It is.”

“Think of yer son.”

“My son?”

“If ye waste yer gold, what will be left for him to inherit?”

“Charles will inherit Sithean,
end
my gold.”

“Ye speak as though ye were a queen!”

“I am,” replied Janet, and for the barest moment a sad look touched her eyes. But Anne Leslie was neither quick nor intuitive enough to see it

“Bah,” she snapped at Janet “Yer mad!”

“Then ye shouldna be troubled wi’ my company any longer,” said Janet as she turned and left the room

I don’t know what Adam sees in that woman, thought Janet My God, if they don’t finish Sithean soon I shall kill her! Snatching up her cloak she headed for the stables. “Ho, Gordy! Saddle Devil Wind!” The groom scrambled to obey her, and a moment later Janet mounted on her big, black stallion and accompanied by Red Hugh, galloped away. The wind tore at her hood, but it was anchored firmly. The gray wildness of the day helped to restore her temper, and she turned the horse into the woods towards Sithean. The wet matted leaves beneath his hooves muffled the sound as they raced through the forest As they neared the hills above the loch, she slowed the horse.

“Easy, laddy,” she crooned, patting his neck. They had reached the crest of the hills that bordered the loch. For a moment she stopped, and looked down on her domain. She was thankful that she would soon have her own home again. It would be ready before Christmas, and Charles, Fiona, and the children would be coming. She intended telling Charles that since Sithean would be his one day, he and his family were welcome to make their home there now.

Had it not been for the small house off High Street in Edinburgh that Fiona’s parents left her, she and Charles would have been totally dependent on the hospitality of Glenkirk. Janet knew, however, that both Adam and Fiona hated living in Edinburgh, With this in mind she had had one large wing at Sithean constructed so that her son’s family might have their privacy and she might have hers. If Charles accepted her offer, the house in town might be let for a fine price.

Devil Wind was straining at his bit now, so loosening her hold on the reins, she cantered down the hill to the loch and across the bridge. Red Hugh helped her dismount

“Yer in a fine tearing temper. I dinna have to ask who ye’ve been talking to this day.”

“My God!” she exploded. “That woman would try the patience of a saint! Nag, nag, nag! Now she claims I spend too much money building Sithean. Is it her money? No! Tis mine! Mine! The bitch!”

Red Hugh laughed. “Aye,” he drawled, “I’ve oft felt that way myself. My father would come to the cottage to see me and mother, and there were times he’d look so angry I’d hide until mum had softened him up.”

“And how did she do that my lad?”

The same way you undoubtedly softened your own lord out of a fit of the glooms,” he grinned.

“Wretch!” She swatted at him. “Come along, nephew. If I am to move in by Christmas, I had best see how the work is coming along. Find the foreman for me.”

While he went to do her bidding, she walked up to the second floor of the house which was built in the shape of an H. Walking into the gallery that made up the crosspiece of the H, she smiled in satisfaction. The sun had come out and golden light was pouring in through the windows, which were staggered on both sides of the long room so that no two faced each other. They were tall, mullioned windows shaped like inverted U’s and between them were expanses of wall that would soon be covered with paintings and tapestries. At each comer of the gallery she had had fireplaces built. Filled with lights, it would be a lovely place to sit.