Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  He was surprised to see Lord Lennox arrive so early, but when he asked Paris if he could have a word in private, Paris guessed it was about Venetia. They went into the gun room next to the men's barracks. Lennox didn't beat about the bush.

  "I'd like your sister Venetia for my wife, Paris, if you have no objections to joining our two families."

  "None whatever. There are advantages in it for both of us, David."

  Lennox thought Cockburn would drive a hard bargain and demand a heavy bride-price for his sister. "My problem is cash flow, Paris, so I will have to let you have a piece of land instead."

  Paris, in a magnanimous frame of mind, asked, "Don't you have a nice manor house in Midloathian?"

  "Aye," nodded David Lennox, "but 'tis heavily mortgaged," he admitted.

  "Put it in Venetia's name, and I will pay off the mortgage," Paris offered rather generously.

  "Ye jest, man!" exclaimed Lennox, surprised and relieved.

  "No, I am serious. Let's shake on it, and we can have the legal papers drawn up in Edinburgh next week."

  Lennox couldn't believe his good luck and went off happily to find Venetia, silently thanking whoever had put Rogue Cockburn in such a generous mood.

  Paris had just begun to tap the first barrels of home-brewed ale for his men when Magnus, with only two escorts, thundered into the courtyard. Poor Margaret had been left a mile back with the rest of his men. He sought out Paris immediately and had hardly dismounted before he started shouting.

  "You must think I'm old and daft, and by God I must be to let you hoodwink me, you bloody rogue. I've only just put two and two together and realized the bride you are holding for ransom is none other than my daughter. Well, if you think I'll let you get away with this, y'er dafter than I. I've come to take her home where she belongs," he shouted.

  "Magnus, calm down. Come up to the family quarters where we can discuss things over a drink," said Paris.

  "I demand to see my daughter!"

  "As you wish, Magnus. Ah, there's Alexandria. Sweetheart, ask Tabrizia to come up to the solarium, will you?"

  "I can't find her, Paris. She's missing all the fun."

  "She will be with Damascus or Venetia. Be a good girl and find her for me."

  "She's free to come and go as she wishes?" Magnus asked skeptically.

  "For God's sake, Magnus, she's a young lass. Do ye suppose I'm keeping her a prisoner?"

  "How in the name of Christ did it come about that she married this moneylender, Maxwell Abrahams? And be warned, you young swine, I won't be fobbed off with your damned excuses!" he thundered as if everything from beginning to end was Paris's fault.

  Paris raised his voice, fighting fire with fire. "You should be on your knees, thanking me for rescuing her. Abrahams bought her out of that orphanage as some sort of cure for his syphilis— he is rank with it."

  Magnus blanched white and rubbed the sudden spasm of pain that shot through his chest.

  Paris said, "Don't worry, I spirited her away in time."

  "No, you did not! In time would have been before the marriage took place. You young bastard, the timing was to your advantage so you could extort gold from him. And why did he wed her legal in the first place?" roared Magnus. "I'll tell. you! So he could suck me dry like a bloodsucker."

  "You can get the marriage annulled, Magnus," Paris pointed out reasonably, still trying to hold on to his temper.

  Magnus's jaw set. "Not, annulled. She will be a widow before she is a wife!"

  "Softly, Magnus, softly. I know you've more guts than a slaughterhouse, but walls have ears, and if you don't stop your thundering match, you're going to drop from apoplexy."

  "That would suit your purpose also, you conniving son of a bitch," bellowed Magnus. "Well, everything that was to go to you will go to her now."

  Alexandria came into the solarium hesitantly. She had heard the shouting and knew there was more to come. "I cannot find her, Paris. No one has seen her."

  "Damn you! Tell the girls to get up here at once. Well, don't hang about, girl, get to it," he snapped.

  Silently, the girls filed into the solarium and stood in a semicircle around the room. Paris looked from Shannon to Venetia to Damascus, and lastly his eyes fell on Alexandria. He sensed something. "What witches' brew are you cooking, Alexandria? What damned female tricks are you up to now?"

  "I know nothing!" insisted Alexandria.

  His eyes passed over them again, and he noted they were decked out in their finest. "Beautiful you are to anyone but a brother! Y'er a right bunch of bitches! Where's Tabrizia?" he shouted.

  Shannon said flatly, "She's gone."

  "Gone? How?" he demanded.

  "Johnny Raven," she said low.

  He withdrew his whip, and each girl fell back instinctively. He had been betrayed! Not by Shannon but by Tabrizia! He couldn't believe she had done this thing. They had exchanged promises, vows, and to a Border lord, your word was your bond, never to be broken. She was the second woman to betray him. Would he never learn?

  Alexandria asked Shannon, "When did Tabrizia leave?"

  "Out!" Paris thundered. "Never utter that name in my presence again." He turned to Magnus, his eyes like black burning coals. "Your precious daughter has run back to her husband. If you succeed in rescuing her, keep her from me at all costs, or I shall kill her," he swore.

  Magnus, outraged, stormed from the castle into the courtyard. He ordered his men to follow him to Edinburgh. He looked Margaret up and down and said, "You, madam, can return to Tantallon. Now!"

  "I should first like to visit with my mother, milord," she ventured, but he didn't even hear her as he wheeled the great destrier around and, striking sparks off the cobbles, quit the castle.

  Robert Kerr, Earl of Cessford, upon hearing of Lord Lennox's good fortune in securing Venetia, approached Paris confidently. "I would like to settle matters about Damascus, milord."

  Paris gave him a look so black and threatening, he stepped back in alarm. "I forbid it!" snarled Cockburn, and sent a stool crashing across the room. He went to the stables and saddled his horse. He had to be alone. He felt so murderous, he knew he could easily shed innocent blood: The veneer of civilization had been stripped away to reveal the wild savage beneath.

  He rode upward, away from the sea where the Lammermuirs towered above each other, ridge after ridge. In these hills the air was always heavy, but the light was pure and turned everything to a shimmering greenness. He rode upward through slopes dotted with feeding sheep. He passed up through gray, stony crags and straight drops of volcanic rock. He rode to the high, bleak ground filled with outcrops of stone until he felt as one with his universe. Up this high, the strong winds carried a light rain, but he was unaware of it. He rode for hours, the steady drizzle damping down the rage within. Suddenly, he rode through a natural pass cut into the rocks and stopped short at the sight that assaulted his senses. A lush valley opened up before him, and a waterfall spilled down from ridge to ridge, cascading clouds of mist that shone with fragments of rainbow. The beauty pierced his heart, and he cursed himself for letting a woman penetrate the iron carapace he had built around himself since Anne He cursed God and man and woman. He made sure he stayed away from the revelry at Cockburnspath until well past dark. When he returned, he took whisky into the gun room and drank until he was stinking.

  The day, beginning shortly after midnight as it had for Maxwell Abraham, had started badly and there was worse to come. The fire that had been started in his bed had quickly devoured the whole chamber on the second floor and had raced up to the third and almost destroyed it, too. The ensuing damage to the magnificent structure, and furnishings was horrendous.

  Abrahams was prostrate, in a state of collapse, and when he discovered the culprit had vanished, he was beside himself with wrath. He ordered a search of the whole area, which took several hours before he discovered it was fruitless. The household had just reassembled to receive further instructions when a dozen moss-troopers burst into
the house, while another dozen surrounded it.

  The Earl of Ormistan dwarfed the small, dark man. Magnus waited impatiently while his men searched the house and herded the servants together in one room. It was the first-floor library, lined from floor to ceiling with rare books. The center of the room contained, a massive polished desk.

  His lieutenant reported, "There has been a bad fire that has gutted the second and third floors, but no young woman, yer Grace."

  Abrahams's eyes narrowed. "Whom do ye seek?"

  "My daughter. Where is she?" demanded Magnus.

  Abrahams's agile brain told him his only defense was to plead ignorance. "Your Grace," said Abrahams, for he could clearly see the crests of the Earl of Ormistan, "I fear you have made a mistake. The only female who lives here is my wife."

  As Magnus advanced upon him, the smaller man backed up, until his back was pressed into the large desk. Magnus continued, "I don't suffer fools gladly. We both know the only reason you wed her was because she was an earl's daughter. What have you done with her?" demanded Magnus in a most threatening tone.

  "Your daughter?" Abrahams babbled. incredulously. "I am sure it is a case of mistaken identity and there is an explanation in all this."

  "That's simply remedied," said Magnus, jabbing him sharply in the chest. "Produce the girl!"

  "We had a disastrous fire here in the night. For safety's sake she has left the house and is staying with a neighbor," he soothed.

  "Liar!" accused Magnus. He gestured to his lieutenant and scanned the servants' faces. "That one." He pointed to Donald, the large, soft young man. The man-at-arms, let his sword pierce the muscle in Donald's upper arm, and straight off he started screaming and babbling.

  "The truth," cautioned Magnus.

  "My master took the girl to bed. She wouldn't perform her wifely duties. She threw lighted candles into the bed and escaped from the house:"

  "Did you go after her?" he demanded.

  "We have searched the whole area. We found nothing."

  Magnus, relieved Tabrizia was no longer under this roof, was nevertheless worried about what might happen to her on the streets of Edinburgh. He turned speculative eyes upon his quarry. "Have. you made a new will naming my daughter your sole beneficiary?"

  "Of course not," said Abrahams.

  "An oversight, I'm sure," purred Magnus. "Get round yon desk and take up your quill."

  "This is totally unnecessary, Your Grace. Of course my wife will be generously provided for upon my d— when the time comes." Suddenly the acrid smell of charred wood sent a wave of nausea through him. "I've just paid a ransom in gold for the girl that put a scar on my finances stretching from abdomen to jugular!" he cried desperately.

  "Jugular?" echoed Magnus with unmistakable emphasis. "Write!"

  Abrahams began to write.

  "Date it the day of your marriage," directed Magnus, pulling out his dirk and jabbing it into the beautifully polished desk, close beside Abrahams's hand. Abrahams did as he was told and stepped away from the desk.

  "How fortunate we have so many witnesses ready and eager to affix their signatures to this document." Magnus grinned as he hustled the servants toward the desk.

  With the swiftness and agility of a black panther, Abrahams slipped a knife from his sleeve and hurled it at Magnus's back. The deadly missile found its mark, but Magnus was wearing a protective leather-and-mail vest beneath his doublet, and the knife was harmlessly deflected.

  Maxwell Abrahams paled visibly as he realized his doom was now sealed. The men were vociferous in their threats and were demanding a prinking, a horrible Border custom of killing a man with hundreds of swordpricks, but Magnus simply stepped forward and grabbed Abrahams by the throat. He crushed his windpipe in a vicious grip and Abrahams was dead before he hit the floor.

  His men dispatched each of the servants by deftly slitting their throats. Magnus's lieutenant suggested they fire the house to get rid of the evidence, and Magnus agreed it was the logical thing to do.

  The Earl of Ormistan was climbing the front steps of his town house before the cry of fire went up on the other side of town.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Mrs. McLaren, the housekeeper, saw the earl's men follow him right into the town house, she was surprised for the second time that day. The men were usually housed in the stables, not inside the private residence. She heard the earl shouting his orders to the men at his back. "I want Edinburgh searched from top to bottom— every street and narrow wynd from the South Bridge to the Mercat Cross. Scour the slums from Tanner's Close to the Grassmarket, but find her!"

  Concern was clearly etched upon Mrs. McLaren's plain features. She approached the earl with many reservations. "Yer Grace, ye wouldn't be searchin' for a wee redheaded lass, would ye?"

  "Aye, Mrs. McLaren, what do ye know of her?" he demanded.

  "Nothing much, Yer Grace, except she be upstairs asleep."

  An incredulous grin came over Magnus's face until it almost lit up the room. "My daughter is here?" he boomed happily.

  "Aye, Yer Grace. Leastwise, that's who she said she was."

  "By God, Mrs. McLaren, I could kiss ye." He laughed.

  The woman backed away from him, more alarmed-than she had been when Tabrizia pushed her way in.

  Magnus dismissed his men. "It's all right, lads, ye'd better go and get yourselves cleaned up, and I'll do the same. Remember, Mrs. McLaren, we were here all night, if the question arises."

  She bobbed a curtsy. "As ye wish, Yer Grace."

  Forty minutes later, Magnus, resplendent in blue brocade, trimmed with marten, all traces of blood-and grime removed, opened the bedchamber door and startled Tabrizia awake as he boomed out, "There's the minx. Ye have the homing instincts of a little pigeon." His voice held as much affection as if the father and daughter were on the tenderest of terms with each other. Tabrizia sat up in the big bed and carefully pulled the quilts about her nakedness. They subjected each other to a close scrutiny, before they exchanged further words.

  Then Magnus said, "By God, but you're pretty. The very picture of yer mother. Get comfortable, for I've a lot to say to ye. But first, by damn, this running about the countryside like a hoyden will cease immediately. You've been leading us a merry dance," and us panting after you, so have done,. lass!"

  She cleared her throat. "At seventeen years of age, I've just discovered I am a Cockburn, and must admit it has some advantages. However, like all the Cockburns, you take the greatest pleasure in issuing your orders every time you speak. Now, if we are to have any sort of relationship without constantly being at each other's throats, you'd better stop your demands and listen to a few of mine," she told him firmly, sounding much more confident than she felt.. She knew she must -gain some sort of control from the very beginning, or she would never be able to call her life her own.

  Magnus solemnly held up his hand. "No more orders, lassie, I swear it to ye."

  "Good. From now on I want a say in everything that affects my life. I don't want other people making my decisions for me." Magnus waved his hand. "Done, done! Say no more. Pack yer things and we'll be off home where you belong, until we find a decent husband for you."

  Tabrizia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shouted, "God give me patience! You've just sworn you'd give me no more orders and in the very next breath you're at it again. In the first place, I have no clothes to pack. I don't have a stitch to my back. I am-naked. As well as clothes, I wish to have a pistol of my own. I swore a vow never to go undefended again, and I want the gun today." Her eyes, clouded. "I already have a husband, although not a decent one, I'm sorry to say."

  He patted her knee gently. "Ye've been a widow for hours, lass. A rich widow, I might add, and I've the legal will to prove it."

  Her hand flew to her throat. "Maxwell Abrahams is dead? My God, how?"

  "House burned to the ground." Magnus waved his arm in dismissal.

  "No... oh, no! Dear God, what have I done?" She thought she would faint but hung
on to consciousness desperately. "I set fire to the house and killed him," she whispered, horrified.

  Magnus frowned. He could see she was devastated at the thought of what she had done. He could clearly see that her nature could not bear up under the weight of the deed she thought she had committed. "My oath that you had nothing to do with Abrahams's death. He died by my hand, but I swear to you it was in self-defense. He threw a knife at my back that only missed my heart because of the protective mail I wore."

  Tabrizia shuddered and closed her eyes.

  "You're a sensible lass and must realize you're well rid of that bit of trash. How fortunate that ye were visiting yer father when the tragic fire struck," he emphasized.

  She remembered how much she had wanted Abrahams dead a few hours back, and how, if she had had a weapon, she would have done the deed herself. She nodded. "I am well rid of him, and I owe you a debt of gratitude. But just as I am rid of one husband, you would wed me to another. I cannot stomach such a thing."

  "Listen to me carefully. I am going to get you legitimized, so you will get that portion of my estate that legally goes to my children. Also, tomorrow I will put your husband's legal will in probate. You will be a wealthy young woman, able to pick and choose your next husband from the highest in the land."

  "You will leave me part of your estate that was to go to Paris Cockburn?" she questioned.

  "Aye, but the young rogue will still get the title and Castle Tantallon." He looked into her veiled eyes. "Tell me true, what is between you and Paris? We must guard your reputation like the crown jewels. Once a lass gets a bad reputation, it clings like the stink on a dead man."

  "There is nothing between us, save betrayal and hatred," she flared.

  "Softly, softly. I have to be sure there's no dalliance going on with a married man. I know a woman finds the dangerous ones more attractive than other men."

  Tabrizia and her father talked for two more hours. They discussed and argued and finally compromised on many pressing matters and agreed to discuss everything that came up that would have an effect on her life as his daughter. It was decided that Tabrizia could stay in Edinburgh at the town house for the time being, until she was furbished with a new wardrobe and until the legal papers were filed satisfactorily. Magnus, against his better judgment, gave her a pair of his smaller pistols along with an interminable lesson on how to clean, load and handle them with care. He agreed to ride to Cockburnspath to fetch her precious Mrs. Hall, and when he returned, Tabrizia was elated that he had also brought Alexandria with him for a visit. She knew he had only done it because he thought it proper for her to have another female with her, but on such a small point, she decided not to argue.