Until You Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Teaser chapter

  “The name Bertrice Small is synonymous with

  passionate historical romance.”

  —Literary Times

  Praise for the novels in the Friarsgate Inheritance series by Bertrice Small

  Philippa

  “With her keen knowledge of history and the ability to craft a vividly colored backdrop, Small evokes the era and brings her characters to life. This is everything her fans could ever want.”

  —Romantic Times

  Until You

  “Full of historical detail, political intrigue, and lots of steamy, enthusiastic sex, the second Rosamund saga should please Small’s many fans.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Rosamund

  “An excellent example of a sensual historical romance.”

  —Booklist

  “[A] powerful tale with . . . shimmering sexual tension. I eagerly look forward to the next installment of this continuing saga.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Fascinating [and] intriguing.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “A wonderful tale. . . . The storyline will delight.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  BOOKS BY BERTRICE SMALL

  The Kadin

  Love Wild and Fair

  Adora

  Unconquered

  Beloved

  Enchantress Mine

  Blaze Wyndham

  The Spitfire

  A Moment in Time

  To Love Again

  Love, Remember Me

  The Love Slave

  Hellion

  Betrayed

  Deceived

  The Innocent

  A Memory of Love

  The Dutchess

  THE O’MALLEY SAGA

  Skye O’Malley

  All the Sweet Tomorrows

  A Love for All Time

  This Heart of Mine

  Lost Love Found

  Wild Jasmine

  SKYE’S LEGACY

  Darling Jasmine

  Bedazzled

  Beseiged

  Intrigued

  Just Beyond Tomorrow

  Vixens

  THE FRIARSGATE INHERITANCE

  Rosamund

  Until You

  Philippa

  ANTHOLOGIES

  Captivated

  Fascinated

  Delighted

  I Love Rogues

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a New American Library edition.

  First Signet Eclipse Printing, April 2005

  Copyright © Bertrice Small, 2003

  Excerpt from Philippa copyright © Bertrice Small, 2004

  All rights reserved

  eISBN : 978-1-101-11850-4

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Pat of SeaAire Limo and Car Service in

  Mattituck, N.Y., a longtime reader who gets me

  where I need to go on time. Thanks, Pat!

  Prologue

  THE BORDER December 1511

  “You are absolutely mad,” Sir Thomas Bolton said to his cousin Rosamund as they rode across the border into Scotland. It was a cold but clear day.

  “Why?” she demanded. “Because for once in my life I would do the unthinkable and dare to be the one to choose? I am tired of being told who I shall marry, and ’tis always for someone else’s benefit, not necessarily mine. I was fortunate in Hugh, and again in Owein, but next time? I dare not take the chance. I want to make my own decisions from now on, and I intend to, dear Tom. Besides, I am not particularly interested in being someone’s wife again. I have been a wife one way or another since I was three years of age. I am yet young, and I want to visit King James’ court quite unencumbered by a husband. Perhaps I shall take a lover.”

  “You are surely planning some mischief, dear girl, and if you are, you simply must share it with me,” he told her with a wicked grin.

  “Oh, Tom,” she laughed. “Please don’t ever leave me! I do not know what I should do without you. You are my best friend in all of this world!”

  “Now, wench, don’t go getting sentimental on me,” he replied, but he was smiling, for he loved his young cousin every bit as much as she loved him. His much younger sister had been like Rosamund. And how lonely he had been when she died in childbirth, and her child with her. And then, thanks to the queen, he had found Rosamund, the heiress to the major branch of his family. She could never take his sister’s place, but she had made her own place in his heart.

  “Do you think Logan Hepburn will be too upset when he discovers I am not at Friarsgate?” Rosamund wondered aloud.

  “You still question his sincerity, then?” her companion said.

  Rosamund sighed. “I probably should not, but aye, I yet do, at least in part. I have never before been sought after just because I am
me. If he really wants me, he will take my sensibilities into account and be patient. Besides, when Edmund tells him where we have gone, he will certainly come hotfooting it to Edinburgh, or wherever the court is located at the time. But by then I should be well into the round of Christmas revels, and there will be other men to pay me court. Logan Hepburn will have to do more than tell me that he has loved me since I was a child and it is now his turn to be my husband. He does not really love me. He lusts after me, that is all,” she concluded.

  Sir Thomas Bolton chuckled. “I can foresee that the next few months with you are going to be most interesting, dear girl.”

  “Until now, dear Tom, I have lived a most circumspect life,” Rosamund replied. “I have done what was expected of me, what I was told to do, what I knew was right, what I knew I had to do. Now, however, I mean to do what I want to do, and I want to do something different, something exciting, something that would never be expected of me!”

  “Oh my,” her cousin said softly, looking at Rosamund with new eyes. “You are, I fear, in a dangerous mood, sweet coz. You are obviously ready to kick over the traces that have constrained you for your whole life. Just be cautious, I beg of you.”

  “Caution, dear Tom, was for the old Rosamund. The new Rosamund wants more out of life now. And when I have had it, I shall return to Friarsgate, to my daughters, and aye, probably even to Logan Hepburn if he will still have me.”

  Tom shook his head, but then he looked up and smiled at her. “I shall be by your side if you wish it, dear cousin, no matter the danger you will probably get us into. I understand these Scots lords are very different from we English. More savage and reckless, I have heard.”

  “So Meg has written me, and in doing so she has quite piqued my interest,” Rosamund responded with a little grin.

  “Has she, indeed?” he answered, and then he grinned back at her. “Well, dear girl, it sounds as if we just might have a little bit of fun, eh? If,” he noted dryly, seeing the first few flakes of snow beginning to fall, “we don’t freeze to death before we get to Edinburgh.” Shivering, he pulled up the collar of his cape.

  “It should not be much farther to Lord Grey’s home,” Rosamund said, and then she pointed. “Look! On the next hill! That is our destination for tonight.”

  “Then, for pity’s sake, let us ride faster,” Tom said. He turned to the captain of their escort. “Is it possible, dear sir, to move more quickly lest I turn into a block of ice?”

  “Aye,” the captain said slowly, his tone clearly scornful of this English milord. But then he raised his gloved hand and signaled their troop forward at a much quicker pace, rather surprised that his two charges kept up with them quite well.

  “Come, dear girl,” Sir Thomas called to his cousin Rosamund. “We are in Scotland, and adventure awaits us!”

  Chapter 1

  “Who is she?” Patrick Leslie, the first Earl of Glenkirk asked his friend Lord Grey.

  “Who is who?”

  “The woman who sits on the footstool at the queen’s right side,” the earl answered his friend.

  “Ahh,” Lord Grey said, understanding at last. “The lady with the auburn hair in the green gown. She is the queen’s childhood friend, the lady of Friarsgate, come from England at the queen’s invitation. She is lovely, isn’t she? She spent a night at my home on her way to court, but I was not there, of course.”

  “I would meet her,” the earl said.

  “What?” Lord Grey chuckled. “You have shown no interest in a respectable woman in over twenty years, Patrick. And you could be her father,” he teased.

  “Fortunately I am not her father,” the earl replied, a faint smile touching his lips. “Can you introduce us, Andrew?”

  “I have not yet myself been introduced,” Lord Grey said.

  It was the Christmas season. The two men stood among the crush of King James IV’s court in the Great Hall of Stirling Castle. The hall had been built by the king’s late father, James III. It had a hammer-beamed roof, large heraldic stained-glass windows, and five great fireplaces. Above the fireplace that was behind the high board where the king sat, hung his embroidered Cloth of Estate. The interior of the Great Hall was painted a rich lime yellow called King’s Gold.

  The court of King James IV of Scotland was a very cosmopolitan one. At least six different languages could be heard spoken among the guests. The king was an educated man with eclectic tastes. He could speak on the most modern sciences and theories, architecture, poetry, and history. He was urbane and had great charm. And as well liked as he was by those who peopled his court, he was beloved of the common man as well.

  The Earl of Glenkirk stared again at the auburn-haired young woman. Andrew Grey was correct. It had been years since he was last attracted to a woman like the lady of Friarsgate. He had been widowed for twenty-eight years, and when he had lost his wife, Agnes, he had vowed never again to kill a woman with the bearing of his children. Oh, he had enjoyed his share of mistresses, but they had been mostly for the release of his lust—though some of his mistresses had been his friends as well. They had all been women considered of low estate, not women from respectable families, who a man paid court to or married. His boyhood mistress, Meg MacKay, had borne his daughter, Janet; and his wife, Agnes Cummings, had given him his only son. The Earl of Glenkirk sighed, remembering these two women. Never since their untimely deaths had he looked at another woman as he was now looking at the lady of Friarsgate. The very sight of her stirred something in his heart he had long thought immune to such tender emotions. Was he being a fool?

  “You really want to meet her?” Andrew Grey’s soft voice pierced the earl’s thoughts. “I know one of the queen’s ladies, Elsbeth Hume. I could speak to her.”

  “Do it,” the Earl of Glenkirk said. “Now, if you can.”

  “God’s foot, Patrick!” Lord Grey said. “I cannot remember the last time you were so eager over a wench.” He chuckled. “Very well. Come along, and let us find Elsbeth.”

  They moved through the crowded hall until finally the lady they sought was found. She was a pretty girl with black hair and dancing blue eyes.

  Lord Grey moved next to her and slid an arm about the lady’s waist. “Elsbeth, you adorable and fascinating lass, I have a favor to ask of you, my pet.”

  Mistress Hume turned to look up at Lord Grey, her blue eyes twinkling. “And just what is it you seek of me, my lord, and what will you give me in return for this favor?” she purred. Her cherry-red lips pursed questioningly.

  Lord Grey quickly kissed the offered lips and replied, “My friend the Earl of Glenkirk wishes a proper introduction to the queen’s English friend, the lady of Friarsgate. Can you aid him?”

  Elsbeth Hume turned and smiled up at Patrick Leslie. “I can, my lord. Rosamund Bolton is a most delightful lady. There is naught high-flown about her, as there is with most of these English who come to our court. From the look in your eyes, I expect you would meet the lady sooner than later, eh?” She smiled mischievously at him.

  “I would, Mistress Hume,” the Earl of Glenkirk replied with an answering smile.

  “Come then, and I will present you. Your intentions will be as honorable as any man at this court, I expect. The lady, however, is no fool, and she can defend herself,” Mistress Hume said. “Be warned, my lord. More than one gentleman has felt the sting of her outrage when he exhibited bad behavior before her.”

  She moved across the hall with Lord Grey and the Earl of Glenkirk following behind her. Reaching the throne where the queen sat, Elsbeth Hume curtsied low and said, “Your majesty, the Earl of Glenkirk would pay his respects to the lady of Friarsgate. May I have your permission to introduce them?”

  Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scotland, smiled at Patrick Leslie and Andrew Grey. “You have our permission,” she said, wondering what it was the earl could possibly want. “We have not met, my lord earl. You have not been at court in my time here, have you?”

  Patrick bowed with an elegant flourish. He mig
ht have been a Highlander, but he remembered his manners. “I have not, your highness,” he replied.

  “What has brought you back to the court, then?” she queried.

  “His majesty’s personal request, madame, although he has not yet seen fit to share his wishes with me,” the earl said. But whatever it was, Patrick considered, it was important to James Stewart or he would not have sent for the Earl of Glenkirk. The king knew how this earl felt about his court, or any other court for that matter. He did not share these thoughts with the queen, however.

  “How intriguing,” the queen said. “I shall have to ask Jamie about this mystery you have provided me with, my lord.” Then she smiled at the earl. “You have our permission to make the acquaintance of our dearest friend, the lady of Friarsgate. Beth, you will make the introductions.” Then the queen turned away, her curiosity satisfied for the moment and her attention engaged elsewhere now.

  “Lady Rosamund Bolton, Patrick Leslie, the Earl of Glenkirk, and my friend Lord Andrew Grey,” Elsbeth Hume said, making the introductions.

  Rosamund held out her hand to be kissed, and her gaze met those of the two gentlemen. Lord Grey took her hand, saluted it, and murmured, “Lady Bolton.” But when Rosamund’s amber eyes met those of the Earl of Glenkirk, she was overcome with shock. The green eyes locked on to hers, and he was not a stranger! She had known him forever, and yet she had never before this day seen the man. She struggled to maintain control over herself while the most disturbing images bloomed in her head, and when his lips touched the back of her hand Rosamund felt as if she had been scorched by a bolt of lightning.

  “Madame,” he said, his big hand yet holding hers. His voice was deep.

  “My lord,” she managed to say. She felt as if they were a single entity. Her voice was soft.