The music rose in a crescendo, then came to a dramatic halt as a bright red and black target wheel was placed down in front of the king. A hush fell over the crowd as Zara stepped forward like a human sacrifice. The king licked his lips as he watched the beautiful Gypsy girl have her wrists and ankles tied to the wheel in a spread-eagle position.
The crowd gasped as a swarthy Gypsy man stepped forward with a matched set of shiny silver knives. A cry escaped Tina’s lips. The man was Ram Douglas, and she knew exactly how dangerous and reckless he could be If he thought he could prevent war for Scotland and James Stewart by assassinating Henry Tudor, he was valiant enough to attempt it.
Henry’s eyes narrowed. “What is amiss? Do you know the man?”
“Nay, Your Highness,” she said, drawing her hand firmly from his loins. “I have cut my finger on one of your jewels.”
“Surely it was no more than a prick, sweeting,” he jested bawdily. The king leaned forward, keenly watching as the beautiful Gypsy girl began to spin on the wheel and her swarthy, brooding partner with the dangerous eyes took deadly aim.
Valentina had never been so tense in her life. Her emotions spun faster than Zara’s as she watched Ram throw the silver knives. She was breathlessly afraid that Zara would be killed or maimed. Yet overriding this fear was the dread that Ram would fling a knife into the King of England. The thing that really terrified her, however, was what Ram Douglas would do to her when he got his hands on her. He had watched Henry Tudor paw and caress her body, almost making public love to her.
If only this were a nightmare from which she would awaken! She had not yet confronted the mental horror of submitting to the king when he tired of these revels and the Gypsy music fired his blood to the point where he would demand she leave with him. Tina closed her eyes, not daring to watch the spectacle before her that was exciting the crowd.
When the next-to-last knife was thrown and entered the target between the Gypsy girl’s wide-open legs, just touching her mons, the audience went wild. The knife handle looked exactly like a large phallus, and Zara writhed upon the wheel as if it had been plunged deep inside her. Henry gripped the arms of the carved chair with intense excitement. His erection had hardened to such a degree, he felt almost ready to spill.
The onlookers gave a collective sigh of sadness as the Gypsy girl pretended to die, and her head fell forward just in time for the last knife to enter the target where only seconds before her head had rested.
Henry’s eyes were glossy with desire, his mouth slack. As the crowd rose to its feet and cheered the performance, Tina leaned over to Henry and whispered Zara’s secret into his ear. He looked at her with disbelief.
“Would you like to meet the girl, Your Majesty?” asked Tina, holding her breath.
He nodded avidly and began to stroke himself. Tina stood up and went to the edge of the platform. She avoided the murderous eyes of Black Ram Douglas and beckoned to the Gypsy girl who strutted forward immediately.
“Your Majesty, may I present Zara?”
Henry took the girl’s hand, and Tina quietly faded back into the shadows.
Where is Ada? Dear God, let me escape! She slipped quickly past the pavilions and got all the way to the gardens of the palace before she realized she was being followed. Where could she go? The king had had her watched all day, so that it had been impossible to get away from him. The last place she had wanted to be tonight was in her bedchamber at Greenwich, for when the oak panel opened she would be trapped for the night with Henry Tudor. And yet now that his watchdog was on her trail, she reasoned that perhaps if he followed her to her door, he would think she intended to rendezvous with the king and leave off following her for the night.
Like a vixen being run to earth, Tina fled through the garden and into the corridors of Greenwich, hoping Ada would somehow find her. She could still hear the stealthy footsteps approaching as she opened her chamber door and stepped into the darkness. She would wait for perhaps a quarter of an hour and then she would slip away from Greenwich, away from London, away from Henry Tudor forever.
Suddenly she was grabbed from behind. She was gagged and trussed, then something like a blanket was dropped over her head, and she was picked up and carried off. She could not kick, she could not scream. Everything was so black, she could not see, and even sounds came to her muffled and indistinct.
Tina was so afraid, she could not control her trembling, but she knew she must breathe slowly and not panic, or the terrifying sensation of suffocation would overwhelm her. She presumed she would be carried up the secret staircase to the king’s apartments, but she soon realized she was being carried much farther than that. When she was finally set down, she knew she was in a boat upon the river. There was no mistaking the roll of a deck or the muffled sounds of the water.
Some of Tina’s fear was replaced by anger. The king’s words came back to her with a rush. By kidnapping her and carrying her off to another palace, he was fulfilling some sort of sexual fantasy. He was so childish, she wanted to scream. Henry Tudor had to have his own way about everything, and there were scores of sycophants and toadies about him who would cater to his every sick whim.
Her temper was building dangerously. When she was delivered at the king’s feet, she would explode and allow her temper full rein. She didn’t give a damn that he was King of England—he wasn’t her king, and he had no jurisdiction over her whatsoever. To Tina he was just a man, a gross, greedy, spoiled, and dominating male who grabbed whatever he fancied, no matter the cost to others.
It came to her that she had been upon the river for an inordinately long time. Finally her assailant picked her up again as if she were a sack of grain and carried her off the vessel. He carried her a long, long way, and then she felt herself being handed over to another. This one slung her over his shoulder and strode on. With her head hanging down it was difficult to breathe, and she became quite disoriented. When she was finally laid down upon her side, Tina’s head was spinning so badly, she imagined she could still feel the rocking motion of the boat.
Tina lay there for what seemed like hours. No one came to release her, and she wondered wildly if she had been carried off and secretly imprisoned. Perhaps the king had set watchdogs on Ram and Heath as well as herself and their plot had been discovered. Perhaps she had been taken down the river to the Tower of London and carried over Traitor’s Bridge, through Traitor’s Gate, and into the bowels of the brooding fortalice.
Nay, she must stop her imagination from running amok This little caper was designed to weaken her resistance and bring her to her knees. She would try to rest while she could and gather her strength for the moment she would come face to face with the lecherous, rampant Henry.
Tina must have been drowsing. Suddenly she became aware of a man’s firm grip as she felt her ankles being untied, then her wrists behind her back were, freed and she snatched off the blanket that had almost smothered her and clawed the gag from her mouth. “You filthy whoreson!” she screamed, momentarily blinded by the rush of light and her own fury. Her face registered total shock as she stared into the pewter eyes of Black Ram Douglas. Her own fury was as nothing compared to the fury she saw in those accusing eyes. In that moment it would have been far easier to face Henry Tudor.
“I never want tae see that dress again,” he said between his teeth, reaching out a powerful hand to tear it from neck to hem.
Tina flew at him with nails and teeth bared. “His paw prints are on the gown because I wouldn’t let him put them on my body!”
Ram grabbed her and slammed her against his hard length, but her hands still tore at his hair and the black shirt he wore.
“What about you?” she cried angrily. “Zara’s hands have been all over your damned body!”
Suddenly Ram’s arms pressed her close, so that her face was against his heart, and he was raining kisses upon her lovely, disheveled hair Despite her faithlessness she was still in his blood. “We are both so insane with jealousy, we can think of nothin
g else. I have to get us safely out of English waters—the Revenge won’t sail herself.”
Her eyes widened. “You got your ship back?”
He took his arms from her. “What is mine, I keep,” he said quietly. “Ada is in the next cabin,” he informed her before departing Ram Douglas had to get away from her so that he could think clearly. If he hadn’t kissed her, he might have killed her. Seeing her play king’s whore had almost sent him over the edge of his control No one would ever know how close he had come to hurling the silver knives into the hearts of Henry Tudor and the female with whom he had been handclasped.
Even greater than his fury had been his towering pride. It seemed like he had been waging a losing battle with his pride ever since he’d laid eyes on Lady Valentina Kennedy. As he stood on the quarterdeck issuing exact orders to his skeleton crew, a part of his mind relived the night he had stormed Castle Doon. He’d found her in the arms of his clan rival, Patrick Hamilton, and thereafter had set about to humble her pride, which rivaled even his own
She’d had a reputation as a honeypot, and he remembered his feelings exactly when he suspected her of lying with James Stewart and God knew how many of his nobles. Why had he allowed the hand-fasting to be forced upon him?
He knew the answer, of course: She attracted him like no other woman ever had. She was a magnificent flame-haired vixen who wrought havoc with his senses. He remembered acutely the feeling of mauled pride he felt at the ceremony when she fainted and he’d suspected Hamilton had fathered a brat upon her.
When he discovered she was still a virgin, he had completely lost his heart and tumbled head over heels in love with her. But blood on the sheets wasn’t proof positive of virginity. Nor was technical virginity a sign of innocence. She could have been sexually active for years and still cleverly maintained her hymen.
As Ram stood behind the ship’s wheel with only the wind and the sea for company, the ugly black mists of suspicion fell away from him. He wasn’t naive enough to think Henry Tudor would do a kindness for a beautiful female without demanding sexual favors, and he knew Tina was not that naive, either. But it was possible that she had tried to play a game of cat and mouse, promising much and giving little. He knew he would give her the benefit of the doubt. His stiff pride almost choked him, but his heart ruled when Valentina was involved, not his head.
When Tina opened the adjoining door and saw Ada safe and sound with all their baggage stacked against the wall, she burst into tears. The tension of the last few days had been too much for her nerves. The floodgates opened, and Ada was wise enough to know her tears would wash away her tension and soothe her jagged nerves.
Ada helped her out of the torn white gown and poured water so she could bathe her hands and face. “How did you get here?” Tina said. “Were you too trussed like a Christmas goose and carried off?”
“Nay,” Ada said, taking a nightrail from one of the bags and shaking out its folds. “One of the Gypsies took me to a caravan where Heath was waiting. He told me he knew he would be followed from the moment the king dismissed him. He soon gave his watchdog the slip, but later in the day he realized we too were being watched, so he had a Gypsy keep a very close eye on you with instructions to abduct you if you fell into danger. ‘Twas Heath who discovered where the Revenge was anchored. He left a message for Ram and brought me and the two Douglas servants to the ship.”
“I’ve been tied up in that cabin for hours,” Tina said, massaging her wrists.
“I had no idea you were there. I was worried sick for you. When Ram finally arrived a short time ago and you were not with him, I almost had an apoplexy.”
“Thank God we are all safe!”
“We are still in jeopardy. Ram only has Heath and the two Douglas servants for crew,” Ada warned.
Valentina slipped her warm sable cloak over her nightrail and went up on deck. Ram stood at the ship’s wheel with his black hair whipping in the wind. He looked at her with an intensity that almost unnerved her. She faced him squarely, hiding her trepidation, and said, “I want to be with you.”
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, he nodded his permission, and she moved to his side shyly. There were things they wanted to say to each other but could not put into words. How could he possibly convey to her how crushed and heartbroken he’d been when he thought she had betrayed him for the sake of revenge? How could he put into words the bone-softening anxiety he’d felt for her when she came to the tower? His fear had been mixed with the exhilarating joy of knowing she cared so deeply about his safety that she had risked all to rescue him. How could he explain that the mere thought of her giving herself to Henry Tudor had nearly driven him berserk?
Valentina drew the furs he’d given her close about her body. How could she possibly convey to him how devastated she’d been when her own brother had betrayed him? How could she put into words that it had been all her fault for wanting revenge? How could she tell him that she couldn’t endure living while he thought she had deliberately betrayed him? How could she make him understand that she would make any sacrifice to assure his safety and count it as nothing?
She watched him and knew his restless, savage spirit was as wild and free as the sea. She saw his pride, his loneliness, his courage. She saw his soul. She wanted to become part of him without reservation.
He saw her vulnerability, her generosity, her warmth. He wanted all of it and more, he wanted her love. He opened his arm to her; without a word, she stepped close and he enfolded her against his side. Her eyes filled with tears as they again caught sight of the raw scar on his neck, but she blinked them back quickly before they fell. He would consider pity an insult.
They clung to each other for over an hour. His arm had found its way beneath her fur, where he gently cupped her breast. Her arm was about his waist, her fingers tucked up inside his warm leather jack. At last he murmured against her hair, “If ye want tae make me happy, go and rest until dawn. When daylight comes there will be danger from the English fleet, and no one else aboard can take the wheel. I’ll need ye then—we all will.”
Tina raised her eyes to the rigging and saw the lithe figure of Heath, who was both lookout and line untangler. He gave the couple beneath him a salute. He thought them so well matched, it was uncanny.
Tina slept until a bloodred dawn broke across the pewter seas, then she and Ada spent the entire day cooking food and boiling water for hot drinks. The men came below one at a time to warm up and dry their soaked clothing at the galley stove, but Black Ram Douglas stayed behind the wheel of what once had been the Valentina for twenty-two hours, until it was safely in Leith.
Chapter 36
Winter had already arrived in Scotland. Fortunately it did not take them long to cover the four miles from Leith to Edinburgh Castle where Ram and Heath closeted themselves with James Stewart to make a full report of all they had learned in England. It had been a stroke of genius to use Heath Kennedy to gather information because the Gypsy people were allowed to travel freely from town to town, and men and women confided in them and told Gypsies things they wouldn’t even divulge to their neighbors.
James Stewart called all his advisers and border chiefs to Edinburgh. He had the winter months to make decisions about Scotland and whether to declare war on England The harsh Scottish winter would curtail the raids deep into the country, limiting the skirmishes to a few border forays. Each laird was free to say his piece and offer his advice, but in the end it would be the king who made the final decision.
The Scottish Bishops, led by Elphinstone and Beaton, advised against war. They strongly advocated keeping the peace, thinking that England’s might in all-out war would easily subdue Scotland. Some of the clan chiefs urged James to declare war immediately; others agreed to fight England, but cautioned that they wait until spring. The majority of voices urged that James play a waiting game. If England made war on France, it would take the pressure off Scotland. Let the vainglorious Henry Tudor spend the fortune his father had amasse
d on war with France, trying to conquer Guienne Let him expend his manpower, weapons, and ships fighting with the French—then his country would be unable to mount a full-scale war against Scotland
James Stewart was incensed He reminded his chiefs that Scotland had signed an alliance with France promising Scotland would march into England if she made war on France. In the end, of course, King James had his way. He decided to use the winter months to recruit an army greater than Scotland had ever had before. He decided to call a justice Ayre in the Highlands of the North and attend himself, urging a call to arms from fourteen earldoms Argyll, Atoll, Bothwell, Caithness, Cassillis, Crawford, Douglas, Erroll, Glencairn, Huntly, Lennox, Montrose, Morton, and Rothes He told them, “I rule Scotland, not Henry Tudor, and I shall write it in letters of fire and blood across his borders if I have to!”
Bothwell fiercely supported him “I’ll burn Carlisle!” he offered boldly
Douglas urged the king to be practical It made sense to use the winter months to recruit and make Scotland a power with which to be reckoned, but a massive show of strength along their borders would be an effective deterrent. Douglas was totally against honoring the alliance with France.
Ram closeted himself with Angus. Heath had told Ram exactly what the queen had written in her letter to her brother Henry, and Ram decided to confront Archibald Douglas with the information rather than divulge it to King James
Angus waved a dismissive hand “I dinna ken what yer on about, laddie”
“Angus, ye crafty old swine, ye know exactly what I’m on about. Margaret hinted the Tudors might soon be related to Douglas. A nod’s as good as a wink tae a blind horse, man! When ye read between the lines it means there will be a war between England and Scotland, and if James Stewart is killed as a result, Margaret will wed yer son and be Regent of Scotland.”
Tempted Page 46