Tempted

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by Virginia Henley


  “Who are ye, lass?” Gavin asked.

  She looked at them blankly, and again her hand went to her head as if she were dizzy “I—I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Cameron, callous as only the very young can be, asked, “Is she a halfwit?”

  “Nay,” said Ram, more kindly now that he realized she had been hurt. “I’ve seen it in battle. She’s lost her memory, but it’ll return if she bides awhile.”

  Tina’s golden eyes watched the beautiful curve of the man’s mouth soften as he looked at her. She was momentarily mesmerized by his penetrating pewter gaze, and she sat absolutely still while his strong hands reached out to touch her body. He was checking her for broken bones, but suddenly she realized his hands were lingering upon her as if he were deliberately caressing her! Did he think her some groom’s daughter he could tumble? She wanted to cry out that she was Lady Valentina Kennedy, but of course she could not. She had allowed men to kiss her before, but none had ever dared take the liberty of touching her body intimately as this bold devil had just done. His hands still lingered on her shoulders. She jerked away from him. “Don’t!”

  Colin came limping up and gave his cousins a black look. “Mistress, forgive these rough men. Yer soaked tae the skin. Allow me tae offer ye a private chamber wi’ a bed and a fire where ye mun rest an’ recover.”

  “Th-thank you,” she said in a bewildered voice. She stood up, and indeed her knees were like butter. She swayed, and three pairs of Douglas arms reached for her. Ram was quicker than Gavin or Cameron, and he swept her high in his arms, gently enfolding her body against his hard-muscled chest. Her golden eyes were bright with tears and apprehension, her tempting, generous mouth inches from his own. Suddenly he was handling her much more gently than when he had carried her in from the rain.

  Colin led the way, his crippled leg echoing oddly across the stone floor. Gavin followed.

  Tina felt panic rise within her If only one of the younger, less dangerous men had picked her up, she would be able to think coherently. She knew instinctively she would have a much easier time cozening them.

  Ram’s deep voice spoke intimately to her as they climbed the rough stone stairway. “When ye recall yer identity, sweetheart, send for me. If ye are no’ known tae be a friend, perhaps yer a foe,” he teased and gave her an audacious wink. He stopped at his own chamber door and handed her over to Gavin’s waiting arms. “I’ll change my wet clothes and look forward tae seeing more of ye later.” His words were accompanied by a devilish leer as his pewter eyes dipped to her wet breasts—she could not mistake the double entendre.

  Tina trembled in Gavin’s arms, and he felt oddly protective of her. She was grateful to be relieved of that other one’s presence. He was more swarthy than any Gypsy. His pewter eyes had had an arrogant gleam, his mouth a reckless slant that intensified his magnetism, yet everything about him was dangerously dark and hard and threatening.

  “Who are you—and where am I?” Tina whispered, knowing he would be putty in her hands.

  “I’m Gavin Douglas, and this older man is ma cousin Colin.” The handsome devil grinned down at her.

  Colin reprimanded his levity. “Stow yer foolishness, Gavin. The lass has injured her haid. This place is Douglas, mistress. Just north of the border country atween England and the cities o’ Glasgow and Edinburgh.” The rough stone passageway was cold, and she shivered uncontrollably in Gavin’s arms. “I’ll soon ha’ ye out o’ yer soakin’ gown, lass,” he said, grinning.

  “Hoots, Gavin, ye’ve no’ the brains ye were born wi’ Can ye no’ see she’s a lady? She must be frightened witless tae waken in the clutches o’ Black Ram Douglas.”

  Tina jerked and stiffened. My God, that had been the infamous Black Ram!

  They entered a most elegantly appointed chamber, one that had been decorated with the sure hand of a gentlewoman with taste and breeding. A cat that was curled in a chair awoke with a start and ran beneath it.

  Gavin reluctantly put her down on the edge of the wide bed, and Colin limped over to a clothespress and brought her towels and a warm plaid.

  A deep voice from the doorway said, “Don’t stand there grinning like a gargoyle—the lass will think she’s in a madhouse. Order a servant tae build a fire so she can get warm and have a rest.”

  Something inside Tina responded to that deep voice. His eyes told her that he found her special. As Gavin moved to the door, the tone of Ram Douglas’s voice changed. “Ye can show me this prisoner ye took.”

  Colin said with disgust, “He’s a bairn—wi’ down on his cheeks.”

  “Then it should be child’s play tae break him,” Ram said.

  Fury almost choked Valentina. She loathed herself for responding momentarily to his animal attraction. The cruel bastard had one count against him for throwing her over his saddle like a sack of grain. Two counts against him for invading her body with his filthy hands. But in the moment he’d spoken of breaking her wee brother Davie, a deep hatred for the man had been born. It was a personal hatred, spawning a personal vendetta. If one hair on Davie’s head were harmed, she would settle the score with Black Ram Douglas if it was the last thing she ever did in this lifetime.

  Chapter 5

  The servants departed after building her a fire, and a moment later she stripped off her woolen gown and wet underclothes and hung them over the foot of the bed to dry She concealed the knife from her boot under the mattress and took up a large linen towel to dry her long red tresses. She noted that the towel was finely woven from the best flax and embroidered with an elaborate letter D. She tested the quality of the Douglas plaid between her thumb and forefinger and felt an overwhelming distaste for the tartan’s dark greens and blues. Her pride forbade her to wrap herself in its warmth until she heard a knock upon her chamber door. Then without thinking, she grabbed the finely woven length of woolen cloth and wrapped it about herself like a cloak.

  Colin Douglas entered, balancing a tray upon his stiff, almost useless arm. “Let me help you,” she offered as a rush of sympathy swept over her. This man was not nearly so dark as the others. He had a square, honest, clean-cut face, and his manners set him apart as being more civilized. She was curious to know what had ruined his once-magnificent physique, but she had more breeding and sensitivity than to even stare at him.

  “I’ve brought ye some broth an’ bread. ‘Tis rough fare, unfit fer a lady, but we’re a household o’ men without womenfolk, save fer servin’ and kitchen wenches.”

  “Thank you. It smells good,” she offered. “If there are no women here, whose chamber is this? The lady in the portrait?” she asked, indicating a painting above the fireplace.

  “My brother Alexander’s bride, Damaris. She’s deceased,” he said shortly, and limped toward the door.

  Tina almost choked on her broth. “Don’t burn yerself,” he warned before he closed the heavy door.

  Tina sprang up to examine the lovely face in the portrait. Her fingers reached up to trace the fine lace of what must have been her wedding gown. “Aunt Damaris,” she whispered, “how unearthly fair you were.” A lump came into her throat as she noticed how young and innocent the girl must have been.

  From a shadowed corner of the room, the spirit of Damaris focused on the young woman with flaming hair and whispered, “Sweet Mary, you must be my niece, Valentina Kennedy!” She hovered between Tina and her own portrait, more agitated than she had been for fifteen years. “Begone! Begone from this place,” she cried, then she was filled with a great sadness because she knew she could not communicate with the living, breathing Valentina.

  “What did the degenerate Douglas do to you?” asked Tina, overwhelmed with pity.

  “Don’t you know Alexander poisoned me? My own husband whom I loved more than life? He accused me of lying with his brother Colin. He struck me.” Damaris’s hand went up to her cheek, still feeling the blow after fifteen long years.

  Tina picked up a hand-painted porcelain powder bowl and matching toilet articles
standing upon the mantel. “These were your things,” Tina said in wonder. She moved across the chamber to touch the heavy, silver-backed hairbrushes and the brocaded bedhangings. “It’s so strange— it’s almost as if I can feel your essence in the room,” Tina said.

  “Oh God, I hope so, my dear. Get out, get out while there is still time!”

  Tina closed her eyes and lifted the stopper of a crystal perfume bottle to touch her cheek. “They say you were murdered here, but all I can feel is love and warmth. You must have suffered unbearably, and yet I sense only your happiness in this lovely room.”

  “I was happy—happier than I’d ever been in my entire life—happier perhaps than a woman has a right to be— before that fateful day. Love is blind. Don’t let the Douglas blind you, Valentina!” Damaris passed an invisible hand over the garments hanging to dry. “Quickly, put on your clothes and depart.”

  Tina reached out her hand to touch her undergarments and was amazed to find they were already dry. She unwound the plaid from her body and donned her underclothes. Ada had sewn every stitch of them, and they were exquisite. She fingered the delicate mauve frills embroidered with violets and was willing to wager she had the most beautiful lingerie in Scotland. Lingerie was a French word that Ada had picked up from Mr. Burque.

  “Hurry, Valentina!” Damaris placed an urgent hand upon Tina’s shoulder. Tina felt a sudden chill and hurried into her undershift.

  When Ram Douglas inspected the youth his brothers had captured, he laughed outright. “Christ, he’s still on mother’s milk. What’s yer name, laddie?” Ram asked the pale young man incarcerated in the dungeon, one floor beneath the hall.

  David Kennedy gathered a full gob of spit and aimed it at the Douglas. “Piss off!”

  Ram grimaced. “A length o’ hemp about yer throat will choke the spit from it.”

  “Hang me an’ be damned tae ye!” flung David.

  “Bloody little bantam cock!” Gavin said.

  “Bravado—he’s scared shitless,” Ram said, “whistling past the graveyard.”

  “I’m scared o’ no fuckin’ Douglas!”

  “Then it’s brainless ye are, laddie,” Ram said cheerfully. Then to Gavin, “I’ll give the Hamiltons a chance to ransom him. If they’re tightfisted, I’ll hang him.”

  Upstairs, Tina reached beneath the mattress to retrieve her knife when without warning the chamber door opened. She whirled about to face her intruder, her golden eyes flashing annoyance, then fear. “Don’t you knock, sir?”

  Ram Douglas slanted a black brow. “In my own castle?”

  “Yes, in your own castle, before you enter the chamber of a lady.”

  “Lady?” he questioned. “Then ye remember who ye are?”

  “N-no.” She again reached for the hated Douglas plaid to cloak her undergarments from his bold, dark eyes. The warm fire had dried her sodden hair, and it fell about her in radiant abundance. Tiny gold-red tendrils framed her face and Ram’s fingers itched to touch the tempting mass. She spoke from nervousness. “I remember I was out riding —I remember a torrential rain—I remember your hands upon me,” she accused.

  “Aye, well, that’s something no woman could forget.”

  Her temper almost choked her, temporarily blotting out her fear. He thought himself God’s gift to women! He was so deadly dangerous, however, she knew she must not anger him. She bit her lip and managed a faint smile. “I’m sorry, my lord, to intrude like this. As soon as I remember where I live, I will leave. ‘Tis the most maddening thing— my name is on the tip of my tongue, then it escapes and eludes me.”

  His eyes ran over her as if he were assessing her fine points. His eyes lifted to her mouth, fell to her breasts now concealed by the plaid, then lifted to her eyes. She bit back a cutting remark, but she might as well have uttered it because his eyes filled with amusement. “If worse comes tae worst and ye never recall yer name, I’ll just keep ye.” He laughed. “Don’t look so outraged, lass. If ye don’t get total recall by tomorrow, I can soon learn who ye are.”

  Tina sensed danger immediately. “How?” she asked blankly.

  He stepped closer, and his fingers closed over a tempting tress of molten copper. “I’ve seen ye before.”

  The statement left her terrified. Where on God’s earth had he seen her? She’d never laid eyes on him before. She’d remember that face for a lifetime. “Wh-where?” she asked warily.

  “In a man’s arms,” he said cryptically.

  She thought that impossible. “You mistake me, sir.”

  “Impossible—I could never mistake ye,” he assured her. More than anything else in the world, he wanted to taste this woman, and since Ram Douglas usually did whatever he wanted, he threaded his fingers into the crackling mass of flaming curls and lifted her mouth to his. A static spark jumped between them, producing a little shock.

  “Oh, let me go, sir! I am unused to men,” she gasped breathlessly.

  “Ye delude yerself,” he said flatly. “I think yer very used tae men. A husband perhaps—lovers, of a certainty.”

  “How dare you say such a wicked thing?” Tina demanded in outrage.

  “Because ye had no trouble arousing me.” His strong, brown hand tore the plaid from her breast. “Yer underclothes are designed tae bring pleasure tae a man’s eyes. They reveal the swell of yer breasts, emphasize yer tiny waist, tempt a man’s fingers tae undo the ribbons and remove yer frilly laces—like so.” In the space of a heartbeat he undid a ribbon and actually opened his palm to cup her breast.

  Valentina was shocked to her very soul. She raised her hand to slap him full across the face, Douglas or no Douglas.

  He caught her hand before it connected. “Ye must be exclusive. I like that.” He grinned.

  She snatched back her hand and whirled away from him, then gathered the plaid high about her neck and clutched it desperately. “Please leave me in peace so I may dress and come downstairs.”

  “Don’t ye like this luxurious chamber?” he mocked

  “Yes, it’s lovely—she’s lovely,” Tina said, indicating the portrait of Damaris.

  “The Kennedy bitch!” She thought she saw a look of pain in his eyes before he spat.

  Valentina felt as if he had slapped her in the face. “If you hate her so much, why haven’t you removed it?”

  Ramsay Douglas laughed, but there was no mirth in that laughter. “Don’t think we haven’t tried When the painting is taken down, all hell breaks loose in the castle until it’s back in its place. The bitch haunts us,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

  She laughed derisively. “Oh come—the infamous Black Ram believing in ghosts?”

  His eyes narrowed and gleamed with their strange pewter shade. “Ye know me, wench?”

  “C-Colin told me your name. He said it with such reverence, I assumed you must be a god at the very least”

  “A god?” he snorted “Perhaps an archangel,” he conceded.

  Valentina laughed and her eyes sparkled, her fear momentarily forgotten. “Well, at least you have a sense of humor.”

  “Ye too,” he conceded. “Perhaps we are alike in other ways.”

  “I don’t even know who I am, or who you are for that matter,” she replied coolly.

  “Yer a woman, I’m a man. It might be rewarding tae find out,” he said, stepping closer. If he touched her again, Tina thought she might faint. There was a sound at the door, and impatiently Ram flung it open. It was his wolfhound.

  “Oh, please don’t let him in,” she begged, retreating to the fireplace.

  “Never fear, he won’t enter this room. The specter keeps him at bay.”

  “You are serious about her spirit haunting this castle?”

  “Aye,” he said grimly. “My cousin Alexander brought her here as a bride over fifteen years ago. She was a whore, like all the Kennedy women. She had two brothers at each other’s throats over her. Alexander poisoned her, then took a dive from the parapets.”

  Tina’s cheeks colored with anger
at his offensive words. “Perhaps it is the evil shade of the poisoner Alexander who is condemned through eternity to haunt the halls of this cursed castle.”

  “His phantom stands ever at my shoulder warning me against marriage. Wives are like spiders—once they are mated, the female slowly devours the male.”

  Valentina shuddered. She knew she must get away from this dangerous man. Women were obviously less than dirt to him. “My lord, I beg you will allow me to finish dressing and also allow me the freedom of your castle. I know my memory will come back to me if I walk about—perhaps get some fresh air—take a look at the spot where I fell. Perhaps seeing my horse will jog my mind so that all will fall into place.”

  He waved an arm. “Feel free tae explore my cursed castle, if yer no’ afraid of bogles.”

  “‘Tis the living I fear,” she said pointedly.

  “Touché, my lovely vixen. ‘Tis obvious ye would be rid o’ me.” He smiled cruelly. “I’m off for an interesting encounter wi’ my nearest and dearest neighbors, the Hamiltons. I invite ye tae sup wi’ me when I return.”

  “Thank you,” she said faintly. She leaned her head against the door weakly after he’d gone. He’d called her vixen—her father’s name for her.

  “Never be alone with him again,” warned Damaris.

  Tina walked to the fireplace, threw off the despised Douglas tartan, and put on her lavender-wool gown She looked up at the beautiful pale girl in the portrait and whispered, “Damaris, help me find Davie. We must get away. All hell will break loose when he learns it wasn’t the Hamiltons who raided.”

  “I seldom leave this chamber ‘Tis the only way to avoid Alexander,” whispered Damaris

  Tina retrieved her knife and carefully slipped it up the sleeve of her gown.

  “Mary and Joseph, whatever are you doing with a knife? I suppose I have no choice but to come with you. I must do all I can to protect you You must be a very reckless girl,” Damaris lamented.

 

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