“Y a rien là,” he said, assuring her there would be no problems.
She glanced at the women, who couldn’t take their eyes off him and laughed, “Chanteur de pommel”
At this early hour Colin was the only one about. He cast her such a sympathetic look, she laughed.
“My lady, I must apologize fer Ram’s behavior yesterday.”
“I’m afraid he’ll have to do that himself,” she said wryly. “However, I’m happy to see I have one ally in the Douglas camp. I shall need your help.”
He bowed. “How may I serve ye?”
“Tell whoever is in charge of the moss-troopers that I shall see him in the hall in quarter of an hour.” Before he could ask the reason for such an odd request, she had swept past him on her way to the servants’ quarters. She informed the bleary-eyed steward, one William Douglas, that she would have a list of jobs for his underlings if he would attend her in the hall in quarter of an hour. In the meantime he could start by opening all the windows.
Tina was relieved when she saw Ram’s second-in-command walk into the hall. Men-at-arms, when off duty, were idle, uncouth, loud-mouthed louts, and she had wondered if he would attend her. She took a deep breath. He was another damned Douglas, judging by his tall, dark visage, but he was still a man, and she would engage him by fair means or foul.
She gave him her most brilliant smile, noting that he was a little on the pale side this morning. She deliberately allowed her eyes to travel across the great breadth of his shoulders and said, “Please sit. If you tower above me, I shall strain my neck.”
“My lady,” he said warily. Christ—she was the sort of woman who made a man aware he was male.
“Most men-at-arms are uncouth louts, but I am told Douglas moss-troopers are a breed apart. They are reputed to have more pride and self-discipline than those of other clans. Tell me, are any of your men able to even stand this morning?”
His mouth quirked a little. “Half a dozen hard-bitten veterans, and a couple of the younger men.”
“Choose three or four of your best—men like yourself, with ramrod straight backs. I want them bathed and shaved and in the saddle in half an hour. I want you to escort Lord Douglas home.”
“Where is he, lady?” he asked blankly.
“You’ll find him in an alehouse or a brothel somewhere between here and Glasgow,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the aid and support of his best men this morning.” She gave him a conspiratorial wink and left him so she could speak with the steward. Christ, if she’d been his woman, he’d still have her abed between his thighs this morning!
It was now the steward’s turn to bask in the warmth of her smile. “This castle has such lovely furnishings, it seems a pity the servants have neglected them so shamefully. I don’t blame you, of course, William. Any castle with a predominance of men is bound to take on a rakish, unkempt look. With you directing the servants for me, we’ll soon rectify the matter.” Another shameless smile was followed by lashes sweeping her cheeks. When she raised them, her golden eyes took away his very breath.
“I want all the rushes removed from the lower floors and the flagstones scrubbed. My woman will give you woodruff to mix with the new rushes. I want all the furniture polished with beeswax and lavender. If you don’t have any, you had better get someone on his way to Doon immediately. While he’s there, he can bring some decent candles until Douglas learns to make its own. We can’t have these disgusting smelly tallow things dripping their grease on everything. I want all the windows washed, and you can send a couple of maids out to gather flowers. We’ll leave the carpet beating and tapestry cleaning for another day.”
He stole a glance at the sand in the hourglass. Hell’s teeth, it wasn’t much past six. The Douglas servants were still snoring their heads off after yesterday’s debauch.
When Hotspur’s moss-troopers discovered him under an alehouse table and roused him, he thought a battle-ax had been embedded in his skull. He opened one eye. “Where am I, Jock?”
“Ye made it as far as Hamilton,” Jock replied with admiration.
Ram groaned. “Oh, Christ. I remember now,” he said, feeling the swollen duck egg on his pate where a belligerent Hamilton had crowned him with a stool. The taproom was littered with the wounded, lying amidst smashed furnishings. Ram stood up slowly and said, “Look tae Gavin and Drummond.” The landlord hovered in a dilemma. His alehouse was in Hamilton territory, yet he had a healthy fear of alienating Douglas. He nodded with relief when Ram said, “I’ll pay all damages if ye forget ye ever saw us last night.”
Ram went outside and submerged his head in the horse trough Drummond was on his feet, but Gavin was still out cold and the moss-troopers slung him over his saddle.
Ram swiped his arm across his brow to push his dripping hair from his eyes. “Where’s Cameron and the others?”
“They only made it as far as Shirley Blackwoods,” said Jock, glancing at the Hamilton lying in the pub yard. “What about the signed truce?”
“To lowest hell wi’ the truce,” growled Ram. Hotspur did not vault into the saddle this morning. He eyed Jock and his three moss-troopers who were smartly turned out and had the decency to flush at his own sorry state. “Thanks,” he muttered between his teeth.
“Thank yer lady. She sent me,” said Jock gravely.
“So,” he said through eyes narrowed against the bright noon light. “Flaming Tina is ready for a fight. Well, I’m just the bastard to accommodate her.”
When he arrived back at the castle, bellowing her name, however, he was informed that Lady Kennedy had gone riding. “These woods are dangerous!” he shouted at the stableman, needing to vent his spleen
“She had a Kennedy and a Douglas groom glaring daggers at each other, and the Boozer went loping off ahead of her.”
When he entered the castle, everything was shining clean, and it had never smelled so fresh Flowers were everywhere. “Bloody meddling women!” he swore, going up to his rooms. As he bathed and changed his clothes, however, he was glad that she hadn’t seen his dissolute state.
Shaving, and sporting a cream linen shirt, greatly improved his appearance, though his mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on a shepherd’s stocking, and he knew his stomach would revolt at the sight or even smell of food.
The spirit of Alexander paced back and forth across the chamber restlessly. “Yer a bloody fool! Yer wastin’ the chance I never had! A union between Kennedy and Douglas will be the best thing that ever happened tae Scotland, and it’s certainly the best damned thing that ever happened tae ye Christ, yer so much like me, I could kick your arse! Think yer the great bloody whoremaster! Think yer such a perilous character! The truth is, yer terrified of one small woman Her beauty an’ her wild free spirit scare the shit out o’ ye, because yer afraid ye might fall in love wi’ her. Where would yer reputation be then, Hotspur? I swear, if harm comes tae another lovely Kennedy lass through the bloody black house of Douglas, I’ll hang ye by yer balls!”
As Ram ran his silver brushes through his thick black hair, his reflection reminded him of Alexander. God, how he resembled him—and if he didn’t keep a tight rein on his temper, he’d end up murdering his woman too
Before he opened his door, his mask of studied indifference and carelessness was in place. He went in search of his steward to learn how many guests were still here. He was glad that most of them had left and was especially relieved that Angus had departed—no doubt to report to King Jamie. He saw Drummond coming downstairs, still unshaven “How’s Gavin?”
“He’ll live,” came Drummond’s terse reply
“Good, there’s work tae be done around here. When ye return tae Edinburgh tomorrow, he can go wi’ ye. There’s a cargo of tanned hides as well as the wool this time. He thinks he knows his way about a ship, but there’s still a lot ye can teach him I’ve acquired two more vessels, so we’ll need more captains in the family.”
They spent an hour going over the cargoes for F
landers, then Drummond reminded him it was time to sup.
“Ye must have a cast-iron gut,” Ram remarked “Before ye go, I want tae warn ye tae keep an eye out for unfriendly English vessels. Don’t take chances—if they get close enough ye can smell them, blow the bastards out of the water!”
Though Ram’s belly was empty, he avoided the hall knowing the smells would undo him. As he made for the front door he came face to face with Valentina, who had picked up the skirts of her sapphire riding skirt, exposing tall, black, high-heeled boots, so that she could more easily run.
Though he looked very forbidding and his wide shoulders almost loomed over her, she gave him a pretty smile. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at her, his face unreadable.
“Oh, do please forgive me, my lord,” she said breathlessly, gifting him with another dazzling smile. “It is unforgivable of me to be late. I hope you dined without me.”
“No,” he said tersely. She was smaller than he remembered, and twice as beautiful. He forced his eyes away from her heaving breasts and tiny waist.
“Oh, my lord, it was so kind of you to await me, but—”
“I seldom indulge in kindness,” he cut in bluntly. Where were her angry words, her questions regarding his whereabouts? He should have been the one apologizing, but here she was begging his pardon He weighed the sincerity of her words, suspecting hidden insolence, but found none.
Her hand went to her disheveled hair, her eyes beseeching him to overlook both her appearance and her behavior. Her gestures were so feminine and pretty, he experienced a searing desire, followed immediately by anger. He had to find fault with her. He looked pointedly at the flowers. “It didn’t take long before ye decided tae make changes.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you like them, my lord. I apologize that your chambers were not cleaned, but I didn’t dare to presume. After all, I’ve never even seen your rooms.”
“I’m relieved that ye understand that at Douglas, my word is law.” The statement was intended to goad her. Now she’d fly at him and unsheath her claws. But she just gave him another disarming smile. “If you will be patient with me, my lord, I will learn to do things your way. I give you my word I shall try to please you.”
“If ye have a curiosity about my rooms, ye’d better come and see them,” he said. The cream shirt against his dark face and throat gave him a feral look. The soft material emphasized his strong, hard features.
“Give me time to change, and I will join you,” she said gaily, lifting her skirts above her knees as she ran up the staircase.
She had thrown him slightly off balance. He had expected either blistering anger or cool hostility and received neither. She had been almost amenable. It was an act, of course. The devious little bitch must be up to something. Since she couldn’t rule him, she’d taken over and decided to rule the roost at Douglas. But she’d wasted her efforts, he decided with satisfaction. They were leaving for the borders and Castle Douglas day after tomorrow at the latest.
When she had insisted upon moving into the chamber that had once belonged to Damaris, he had assumed she’d resist his bed like a wildcat. Now it seemed she couldn’t wait to get inside his bedchamber. Perhaps she was trying to seduce him. Well, if she had designs to spend the night with him, she was in for a letdown.
He went upstairs to await her, and as he glanced about the familiar rooms, he tried to see them through a woman’s eyes. The furniture was massive, carved from black walnut. The velvet bedhangings were deep claret, and the floor covering was woven from the natural, unbleached wool of Douglas sheep. His table and chairs were covered by Spanish leather, his walls decorated with his favorite swords, knives, daggers, and dirks. The stone fireplace in the outer room blazed cheerfully to keep out the damp. His chamber opened to the parapet walk, from which you could see the River Ayr to the west and the Pentland Hills to the east.
Where the hell was she? He grabbed up a poker and stabbed impatiently at the logs in the fireplace until they sparked and blazed. He was unused to being kept waiting by a woman. Was she taking all this time to adorn herself with some seductive chamber robe, thinking to entice him to ravish her? The elastic of his patience stretched and snapped. He flung open his door and went to fetch her.
As he raised his fist to pummel her chamber door, he heard laughter from within. He changed his mind about knocking as he realized she was talking with a man. He flung open the door upon a very domestic scene. She was sipping from a spoon that her bloody exquisite Frenchman was holding to her lips. “Forgive the intrusion,” he said sarcastically.
She pretended she heard no sarcasm. “Not at all,” she said sweetly. “You are just in time to enjoy Mr. Burque’s delicious cuisine.”
The chef bowed and departed, and she confided, “He spoils me outrageously. Of course, that’s the reason I brought him.”
“Don’t remind me how spoiled ye are, madam. I’ve been cooling my heels while ye have been entertaining yon fop.” She wore a high-necked black silk gown, not the seductive garment he’d expected, and her hair was twisted into a severe bun. As well, the aroma coming from the tray was making his mouth water. Perversely, he was annoyed that the smell of the food did not sicken him “What is that?” he asked, indicating the spoon she had been tasting.
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Ambrosia … no, not really. It’s merely soup—a few mushrooms, a little cream, a little wine.” Her eyes moved from his, down to his mouth, then back up to his eyes. “I don’t suppose I could tempt you?” Her words hung in the air
He stared at her full underlip. He was tempted, all right.
“No, of course not” She laughed. “You prefer great lashings of mutton or oxen. I’ll tell you what—I’ll just put the silver cover on to keep it warm until I return—that is, of course, if the invitation to see your rooms is still open.” She was toying with him, and he didn’t trust himself to speak. He led the way, and she followed. He didn’t turn, yet he knew she had entered the chamber behind him and closed the door silently.
“I know your secret. You are a devout coward.”
He whirled upon her with an angry retort upon his lips and saw that she was speaking to the Boozer. “Coward? I’ve seen him tear the throat from a man.”
She shrugged a pretty shoulder “Anything that eats meat is capable of killing,” she replied. Was it a veiled threat? “Nevertheless, he is a coward. He is rendered into a quivering mass by a spirit.”
“A spirit?” he echoed. Was she mocking him?
“The spirit of Damaris lingers in my chamber You told me of it yourself, remember?”
Ramsay knew there were such things. He’d lived with them for over fifteen years. Other people however did not believe in ghosts Was she humoring him, or did she have an open enough mind to believe? Suddenly he didn’t want her to leave. If only she’d had the food sent here, they could dine privately and talk. He always ranged alone, but sometimes he longed for a companion, a soul mate. He watched her eyes as they traveled about the chamber, missing nothing.
“Do you like it?”
“Good heavens, Douglas, I wouldn’t go that far,” she said lightly. “It suits you, of course. For my taste, it’s too dark, too large, too harsh.” She could have been describing him. “Its saving grace is the parapet walk.”
His male vanity was piqued. He grasped her wrists with his hard hands, imprisoning her. “Do I have a saving grace?” he demanded, lust and anger suddenly blazing in his gut like banefire.
She searched his dark face and whispered, “I hope so, my lord. I pray for both our sakes that you have a sense of humor.”
He released her wrists. “We go to Castle Douglas day after tomorrow. Perhaps my bedchamber there will be more to yer taste.”
“Perhaps,” she murmured, allowing her lashes to sweep to her cheeks. God, they were like two scorpions circling each other, looking for the most vulnerable spot to leave their sting. “Perhaps I’ll stay here.”
“You, madam, will do as ye are told.” Hi
s words had a hard, challenging ring.
She laughed up into his face. “You do have a sense of humor!”
It was outright insolence. By Heaven and Hell, if he didn’t make her obey him, he knew he’d lose the whip hand! He took her chin between his strong fingers in a vicious grip. Her lashes flew up in time to see his head descend to take her mouth savagely. He slowed her very pulses. Once again she was determined to turn the tables on him. Her mouth softened and opened under his, allowing him to take what he wanted. When he finally lifted his mouth, she whispered, “Perhaps I’ll come after all, Douglas.”
She had an annoying habit of addressing him by his surname. He swore a vow he’d make her say Ram softly, pleadingly. He knew he would know no peace until he had had her.
She was aware of his excitement She was also aware of her own. She felt an unbelievable physical attraction for the brute.
Damn her to hellfire! She held him off with the simple device of luring him on. The minute she behaved like a wanton, he was repelled. “Yer food will be cold Ye may return tae yer chamber,” he dismissed.
She dropped him a curtsy, as if to thank him for his consideration. Then she cast him a wicked glance from beneath her lashes that promised him the earth if he was man enough to take it. Then she was gone.
He swore foully. He knew exactly what he needed He picked up his leather jack and made his way to the stables. The ride cooled his temper and his blood. When he arrived in the Valley of Galloway, however, he saw that the Gypsies were gone. He cursed again and went over the long list of women who would welcome him this starlit summer night. Unfortunately, none appealed The woman he really wanted to bury himself in was back at his own castle.
Tina sat abed, her knees drawn up beneath her chin “He actually said, ‘At Douglas, my word is law,’” she said laughing as Ada perched on the end of her bed. “At any moment I expected him to demand that I remove his boots!”
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