Love Wild and Fair by Bertrice Small

by jellies, sugared nuts, and a large cheese. Lastly came wafers, and little glasses of hippocras. Cat, who had never been shy at the table, ate with a particular gusto that amused the earl. At last she said, “I’m sleepy, Glenkirk! Take me home.”
    He paid the bill and complimented the landlord on the excellence of the food and the service. Having tipped everyone, he tucked Cat again into the sleigh and drove home. When he had returned the sleigh to Benjamin Kira and come back, Sally informed him that her mistress had retired to her room. He climbed the stairs and knocked. She bade him enter. She had exchanged the brown velvet dress for a pale blue silk chamber robe. She lay on her bed.
    “I am feeling very fat and full,” she told him. “I intend sleeping the whole afternoon away.” She reached up, drawing him down to the bed. “Thank ye, Patrick. I did enjoy our outing so!”
    “So did I, love,” he answered. He bent and kissed her gently.
    She took his hand and placed it on her swollen belly. A look of incredulous delight lit up his face as he felt the child in her belly kick. She laughed.
    “Aye, hinny! My Jamie’s a strong and healthy bairn!”
    She had said “my,” not “our.” Patrick was hurt, but he tried hiding it, and instead said lightly,
“Our
Jamie, Cat. He’s my son too.”
    “Nay, my lord of Glenkirk. I told ye yesterday. The bairn is my son. Your bastard.”
    Patrick stood. “I’ll let ye sleep,” he said quietly, and left the room.
    He was close to giving in, Cat knew, and she was using every trick to weaken him. She knew he wanted her, and not just for the child. She didn’t mind his desiring her body, for she also desired his. But until he gave her back her rightful property and saw the error of his ways, there could be no living with him. She fell asleep wondering how long it would be before he conceded defeat.
    While she slept, Patrick was learning a very interesting fact from his uncle. The abbot had spent the morning in the library awaiting the return of his niece and nephew. He was feeling quite pleased with himself. He thought his talks with Catriona had begun to bear fruit. When Patrick entered the library he asked, “Well, nephew! When do I perform the wedding?”
    “Not yet, uncle. She’s still not ready to have me.”
    “God’s foot mon! What does she want? Do ye understand her? For I am nae sure I do.”
    Patrick laughed. “I think I am beginning to understand her quite well. She does nae wish to be treated as a chattel.”
    “Nonsense!” snapped the abbot “Of course women are chattel. Why, even the Protestant heretics agree wi
that.”
    “Nevertheless,” continued Patrick, “she wants to be treated as an equal, and she says that both A-Cuil and the investments that Grandmam left her should not have been included in her dowry. She wants them legally returned to her. She says shell nae wed wi me until she gets them.”
    The abbot thought a minute, then spoke. “Mam believed that women needed a little something of their own, and she did see that all of her granddaughters, and the great-granddaughters born before she died, had both a bit of property and some financial investments. A mad idea! No judge would uphold such nonsense. If Greyhaven included A-Cuil and the investments in Cat’s dowry, then they are, of course, yours.”
    Hearing his uncle’s reasoning, Patrick suddenly saw the unfairness of it all. In a flash he understood Cat’s anger. “I have promised,” he said, “to return A-Cuil to her. Has she ever done anything wi her investments other than collect the dividends?”
    “Greyhaven mentioned something about it to me once, but I’m nae sure what he was talking about. You would have to ask the Kiras.”
    “I hae full intention of doing so,” replied Patrick, “but uncle, if ye wish my son born legitimate, say nothing to Cat of this conversation. I am going to see Benjamin Kira. If she asks for me when she wakes, say I’ve gone out