Beth went white with shock.
Tina said, “Don’t take everything so seriously. Men like to laugh. Listen to how rowdy they are. It takes a special talent to draw their attention from men’s affairs and hold that attention. Let me show you.” The light of challenge made Tina’s eyes sparkle. She took off her shoes and stockings and kilted up her skirts to display a delicious length of bare legs, and the men moved toward her like steel filings attracted to a lodestone. When their remarks and suggestions became risqué, she kicked cold water over them, and Beth looked on in amazement that they didn’t retreat because of the drenching they risked but instead became more daring in their antics, pushing and shoving each other like rams locking their horns over an ewe. Valentina managed to chase them away, like a queen banishing them from her presence. She sat down upon a rock to put on her shoes, stuffing her hose into her pocket.
“Tina, why don’t I take supper in your chamber so we can spend the evening together?” Beth suggested hopefully.
Tina looked at her blankly. “Tonight is Beltane—I’m off and away.” Beth’s face fell. “Come with me!” Tina invited generously.
“Heavens, no! Aren’t you afraid?” Beth cried.
“Only a tiny bit, but that’s what makes it exciting, like going to the graveyard at midnight or bathing in the waters of Black Loch naked.”
“Kirsty said you were wicked,” confided Beth, beginning to believe it.
“Did she?” Tina asked, sounding inordinately pleased. “I’d rather be wicked than frightened as a rabbit. There’s nothing to fear. Heath’s back. He’ll look after me.”
Beth flinched and wrinkled her nose. “That ragtag Gypsy?”
“That ragtag Gypsy is more man than any woman could wish for in her wildest dreams.” But Tina admitted to herself, she was relieved that Beth didn’t want to come. She brushed the lovely blond strands of hair from Beth’s face and nodded toward the group of attractive red-headed men. “They’ll all be gone tomorrow. They only came to bring their wool for export. I want you to dine in the hall tonight. Wear your prettiest gown.”
By early afternoon, Hotspur Douglas had been in the saddle eight hours, and before dusk fell he would be in the Highlands in the magnificent Grampian Mountains. To cover this great distance in so short a time, he had taken an extra saddle horse and alternated between the two sturdy mounts. At five in the morning he had shaken awake one of his men and thrust the Gypsy girl into his arms with orders to return her to her valley. Then he had chosen two of his fleetest moss-troopers and told them that by dark tomorrow night, they would have the herd they were going to fetch, back at Douglas.
The wild, unbroken horses had been brought up in the northern forests so they could withstand cold and severe weather. They could run a dozen leagues without food. These sure-footed garrons were preferred by border mosstroopers who had to patrol endless miles of wild, wide-open rugged carse and moors. The Douglas stables boasted more than their share of blooded, well-fed stallions. Ram’s favorite mount was a black brute that stood more than nineteen hands high. It amused him to call the animal Ruffian, a most misleading misnomer. He could vault into the saddle totally ignoring the stirrups, and many would-be imitators had come a cropper trying to master the trick, especially wearing heavy chain mail.
Ram Douglas had as sharp an eye for a horse as he did for a woman, and he soon cut the choicest mares and sturdy stallions from the herd. He left the foals with their dams to run free another year and laughed when the dominant stud stallion tried to attack him for stealing his mares. There was no way he was going to take him south to a possible gelding. Ram pulled a bullwhip from his belt and cracked it in the air whenever the stallion approached, and he shouted, laughing, “Get the hell away! If ye follow yer mares, ye’ll lose yer balls!”
These Highland forests were alive with wolves, boar, and wild bulls, and Ram itched to hunt, but he promised himself not to indulge unless a beast crossed his path and threatened the herd. His instincts told him not to be absent from Douglas for any length of time, for it would be just like the bloody Hamiltons to pick this time to mount a raid, whoremongering cowards that they were.
When he returned, he would send his brother Gavin south to Castle Douglas with at least half the herd. The castle at the town of Douglas, which was often dubbed Castle Dangerous, was not to be confused with the massive stronghold of Castle Douglas, which lay deep in the borders, forty miles to the south.
When Beth Kennedy took her blue velvet gown from the wardrobe, Kirsty was alerted. “I think it best ye dine in yer chamber with me, since yer parents are no’ in residence and the castle is full o’ rough men.”
For once Beth asserted herself. “I’m dining in the hall with Valentina tonight, thank you, Kirsty. She’ll look after me.”
Kirsty’s lips compressed. She would be the length of the room away at the servants’ table. Heaven only knew what topics that hellion Tina would introduce into the conversation.
Kirsty went down to the hall early so she would miss nothing that transpired tonight. Valentina arrived wearing a copper-colored outfit that made her even more vivid than usual Kirsty was pleased to see that the men were not wearing their dress tartans to impress Mistress Honeypot, but she craned her neck to watch what Tina would do when Beth arrived. She was not best pleased when the two sisters sat down between Lord Carrick and Callum Kennedy Respectable young women would have sat with their brothers.
When Ada took her seat at the servants’ table, she saw immediately what was causing Kirsty’s anxiety, and like a true adversary she decided to rub salt in her wounds. “I’m so glad that Tina has decided to teach Beth social intercourse.”
Kirsty hissed, “I consider Valentina Kennedy no fit role model for my gently reared Beth.”
With a straight face Ada said, “Oh Kirsty, let down your guard for one night. It’s Beltane.”
Kirsty gasped. “Filthy pagan ritual! How dare ye speak o’ it in a godly household? ‘Tis an excuse tae indulge in sinful antics of the nicht. Well, let me tell ye, madam, the carnal appetites o’ the flesh shall no’ inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.”
“You think sex and church don’t mix?” asked Ada with a laugh. “The holier the occasion, the fiercer the grapple. Did I ever tell you the tale of the Abbot of Aberdeen?”
“I willna listen tae such smut.” She glanced at the steward and the other household servants at the table and saw they were enjoying her discomfort.
Meanwhile, Tina was enjoying teasing her dinner companions every bit as much as Ada was. With a straight face but mischievous flashing eyes, she said, “Andrew, why don’t you tell Beth the interesting things you did on your visit to Glasgow last evening?”
Andrew darted a warning glance at Tina and wondered how she managed to look such a picture of innocence “I’m sure she has nae interest in men’s affairs,” he said repressively.
“Oh, you are wrong, Lord Carrick. I am fascinated,” said Beth, hanging on to his every word.
“Yer brothers showed us parts o’ Glasgow I’ve never seen,” he managed between mouthfuls.
Beth said, “I’ve heard there are a lot of poor hovels there, but I’ve seen some fine houses, and the ladies dress quite differently in town, don’t you think?”
“Tell us about the house you visited, and how the ladies were dressed,” Tina prompted.
“Ye’d no’ be interested,” he said repressively.
Beth put her small hand upon his arm. “Please?” she begged softly.
Andrew flushed as he recalled last night’s debauch, then he put his hand over Beth’s and gently explained, “Yer sister is a wicked tease. She knows we spent last night in a —an alehouse.”
“Oh, how silly of me,” said Beth, giggling. Tina joined in the laughter, then finally Andrew, and all was forgiven.
Down the hall the steward spoke up. “Mistress, would ye care tae attend the revels wi’ me?” he asked Ada hopefully.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jack, I already accepted Mr. Bu
rque’s offer,” Ada said, casting a satisfied glance at Kirsty, for she knew the Scotswoman had lost her heart to the good-looking Frenchman.
“Burque? Yon prancin’ cook? I thought ye’d be wantin’ a more sportive companion on such a nicht,” the steward derided.
“Mr. Burque is a chef,” Ada corrected, “and you can take it from me,” she said, glancing from the steward to Kirsty, “he can be exceeding sportive.”
At the other end of the hall Valentina was plotting her getaway and wanted to be certain everyone was occupied when she rode out. She addressed both Callum and Andrew Kennedy. “You’ll both be gone at sunup, I suppose? What are your plans for this evening?”
The men exchanged glances, and Andrew temporized, “Well, we did think tae visit Glasgow again.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I thought perhaps you’d enjoy a stroll up on the ramparts to count the Beltane fires—unless there’s time before you leave?”
Andrew spoke up “That’s exactly what I planned tae do as soon as we’ve finished here.”
Callum scowled at him. “I’d like tae escort ye, Tina. It’s very dark up on the walls. A lady needs a strong arm, an’ I offer mine.”
“You are both so gallant.” Tina smiled. “I cannot accept, but Beth would like your escort.”
Both men knew they’d been outmaneuvered and bowed to Lady Beth. “It would be an honor, mistress.”
Kirsty’s hand was at her throat as she saw Beth take both men by the arm. It was not customary for a maid to approach the head table in the great hall, but alarm made Kirsty ignore convention. “My lady, I will accompany ye, wherever it is ye wish tae go.”
Tina looked the woman up and down coldly. “Don’t overstep your bounds, Kirsty. I’m mistress here at Doon at the moment. I don’t believe Lord Carrick would enjoy your forcing yourself upon him. I think perhaps the steward would be a better choice for you.”
“But—but Beth has never been alone wi’ men,” she said angrily, as she watched her charge depart the hall.
“Then it is high time,” Tina said. “There’s safety in numbers, Kirsty. Besides, I don’t really think little Beth will arouse their carnal appetites.”
“Men don’t need much arousin’,” hissed Kirsty.
“Really?” Tina drawled, raising questioning eyebrows. “You must tell me all you know about men—sometime when you have a moment.” Tina waved to Ada at the far end of the hall. It was her way of saying, “Don’t wait up for me!”
Valentina had not ridden a mile’s distance from Doon when Heath met her. He was dressed in soft doeskin breeches and was astride an animal every bit as expensive as Kennedy horseflesh. She whistled her appreciation. “Where did that come from?”
He grinned at her and laid a finger alongside his nose. “Ask no questions, sweeting. You wouldn’t want to know.”
“Could you get me a black mare with Barbary blood?” she asked eagerly.
“That’s a tall order,” he replied.
“But not impossible?” she pressed.
“No, sweetheart, not impossible,” he admitted.
“Lovely! Where will we go tonight?”
“Wherever you fancy. Lead on.” Before the words were out of his mouth, she was off on the wind. She had plaited her long copper hair into a thick braid that fell below her waist, and it soon began to unravel. Heath chuckled to himself and let her take the lead. She had a wildness in her blood, and he understood she needed this outlet.
The River Ayr was in spate, and once they crossed over the brig, they began to climb out of the valley. The Beltane fires would not be lit on hilltops, for then they could be mistaken for the beacon fires used as an alarm system for invasion and suchlike. Tina headed toward Muirkirk, a plain stretching between the counties of Ayr and Lanark, as this was likely the closest Beltane revel. As she topped the ridge, she saw half a dozen riders coming from the opposite direction and recognized they were Hamiltons from their bright blue tartan.
She quickly brought one leg over her saddle so that their leader would not know she had been riding astride and hoped her velvet skirts would cover the fact that there was no side-saddle.
“Valentina!” Patrick Hamilton was both pleased and concerned to find her abroad this night. He dismounted immediately and came to her side. His men stayed back to give them some small privacy. Patrick Hamilton was dark and dashing, his tall slim back straight as a ramrod with the pride of clan in his bearing. He placed a possessive hand upon her knee. “I carina believe yer out without a groom, mistress. ‘Tis Providence brought ye ma way.”
The tip of her riding boot rested almost touching his hand upon her other knee. She let him know she could kick his hand away if she so chose. The last light was fading fast and wasn’t sufficient for him to see her golden eyes, but where it touched her magnificent hair, it set it aflame. Patrick felt a strong desire to pull her down to him and ravish the mouth that teased so temptingly.
“I assume you are riding to visit the admiral,” she said “If you come to Doon for dinner on Friday evening, I’ll get Mr. Burque to prepare your favorite, Patrick.”
“Thanks, Tina, I’d be delighted. Ye know my destination, but I dinna know yours.”
“You’re right,” she said laughing
Just as Patrick was about to reach for the maddening creature, Heath topped the ridge. Patrick frowned at her escort’s good looks and wide shoulders. “Ye ha’ a groom after all,” he said, sounding most disappointed.
“Good night, Patrick, I must be off. I have a most pressing appointment.”
Hamilton had ridden five miles with Valentina Kennedy filling his senses before he remembered that it was Beltane, but as soon as the dark suspicion crossed his mind, he dismissed it. “She wouldna dare,” he assured himself.
The Kennedys had laid their plans well the previous night and had even ridden out to the perimeter of the Douglas lands they were about to raid. The Douglas clan was the richest in Scotland, their acreage vast, their herds too numerous to count. Donal and Duncan had conceived the idea and laid it before the other Kennedys when they brought down their winter wool. Without going close to the castle at Douglas, which was nicknamed Castle Dangerous, Donal estimated they could lift about two hundred cattle and four hundred curly-horned sheep from Douglas tenants, and the best part was that the Douglas clan would blame their bitter enemies, the Hamiltons, who lived not ten miles away in the same county, Lanark.
The Kennedys had agreed to divide whatever they were able to steal and leave immediately for their own holdings, which lay in half a dozen different directions. Donal would take his share to Castle Kennedy on Loch Ryan, which he hoped would be his when he married. He would also leave a few on his holding in Kirkcudbright, overlooking Solway Firth It amused him that his peel tower at Kirkcudbright was only ten miles from the massive stronghold known as Castle Douglas.
Donal had given his men strict orders not to approach the castle, for he wanted no violent affray. This was to be a simple cattle raid under dark of night, and if their luck held, the Douglases wouldn’t even know about it till dawn.
All went according to plan, with the Kennedys content to let Donal give the orders. All except David who had a few ideas of his own. It was Davie Kennedy’s first taste of reiving, though he’d been anticipating the event for years, avidly listening to tales told at clan gatherings. He relished the brutish pleasure of wreaking havoc upon a rival. It was rumored the Douglases had an excess of ten thousand horned sheep, and this being the case, Davie reasoned their most vital crop was hay. Donal had ordered him to stand watch rather than rustle cattle and sheep, but he was boldly determined to play a more vital part in the operation. He set a torch to the hayfields, and the wildfire raced across the acres that hadn’t felt rain in over a week.
When Donal smelled smoke and heard the flames begin to roar like the wind, he cursed violently. “What reckless whoreson set the fire?” he shouted. Already the Douglas tenants were running to the scene and had no doubt alerted the men of
the castle. Fire at night was more terrifying than in daylight, and the Kennedys were able to drive off the sheep and cattle in the chaos and confusion it caused.
Duncan rode up beside Donal. “Davie was posted guard over yon. It must ha’ been the little pisser.”
“Christ’s blood, I’ll skelp the skin off his arse when I get back from Kirkcudbright.”
David, elated with the successful destruction of the hayfields, moved on to the low cowsheds and haystacks against the very walls of the castle. The flames danced high, almost mesmerizing him, when suddenly the torch was dragged from his hand, brushing across his sleeve to set it afire. At the same time he was knocked from his saddle by something that felt like a thunderbolt.
The thunderbolt was a naked Gavin Douglas, who had been plucked from his bed and the soft arms of Jenna, his new wench. Davie Kennedy was lucky Gavin had no weapon to hand, or he would have been a corpse by now.
Gavin grabbed the raider by the scruff of the neck, rolled him in the dirt to extinguish his smoldering sleeve, and dragged him to his feet. His dark eyes widened as he saw the extreme youth of his culprit. He cursed that he’d only caught the runt of the litter, but as he peered about in frustrated fury, he saw none but his brother Cameron and other Douglas men whose first priority was to put out the fire before it destroyed the entire village of Douglas.
Gavin dragged his captive by the hair into the hall, which had suddenly come to life with men-at-arms and servants. As Colin Douglas limped into the hall, Gavin said, “I only caught one o’ the bastards. The bloody Hamiltons are using bairns now tae raid us.”
Colin saw the pallor of the fair-haired lad and said quietly, “I’ll get ma bandages and dress that burn.”
“Dress his burn?” Gavin shouted in disbelief. “I’ll truss him on a spit in yon fireplace and roast his other bloody arm!”
Colin said, “When yer temper cools, ye’ll realize Ram can likely ransom the bairn.”
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