Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  The girls were atwitter with Shannon's news, and already disagreeing over choice of colors for the formal wedding to be held at Douglas. Tabrizia smiled at Mrs. Hall. "I'm only a lady, Shannon is now a countess."

  She waited impatiently for her father, rehearsing the words she would say to him. Finally, he entered the castle-with Paris, and Tabrizia ran to him and took his arm. She dared Paris with her eyes to try to stop her as she propelled Magnus toward the solarium and announced in firm tones, "We wish to be private. Don't allow anyone to disturb us."

  She sat him down in a comfortable chair in front of the fire and stood before him as a supplicant. "You must not be angry with me, Father. I had absolutely nothing to do with it."

  He chuckled. "You underestimate your charms; lass. Nay, I'm not angry with you, not angry with anyone."

  "Well, you damned well should be," she flared. "You forbade him to have any contact with me, and he forced me to wed him."

  "The only objection I ever had to Paris was that he was legally married. Once that barrier was removed, so were my objections."

  "But he forced me against my will, Father!" she said plaintively.

  "The lad was in love," said Magnus.

  "If you think that, you are laboring under a grave misapprehension," she argued firmly.

  "Pour me a dram of brandy, lass, my throat is parched. Now, listen to me. Paris always wanted you. When I denied him, I thought it would come to drawn swords. In the end I told him if he loved you, he would not make you his mistress but let you go so you could make an honorable marriage."

  "This vindicates him in your eyes? But do you not see, he did not let me go?"

  Magnus explained patiently, as if to a child, "He didn't let you go because he was free to marry you. That makes all the difference in the world."

  She was speechless for a moment. "But he forced me against my will, not only in the chapel"— she blushed—"but also later, aboard his ship!"

  Magnus at last looked outraged, but she couldn't believe her ears when she heard him say, "You mean you did not yield to him?"

  "Yield? I'll never yield willingly! And what about a marriage contract? My money now belongs to him."

  Magnus frowned at the outrageous things his daughter was saying. "Paris doesn't want your money. My God, child, he paid Orkney a fancy price to relinquish his claim on you."

  She had gone white around the lips. "I see," she said quietly. "It is clear that this is a man's world and you all stick together."

  "I should hope so." Magnus laughed heartily. "Now, if you've finished with me, I have men's business to attend to."

  She sat alone for a long time, almost inert with misery. She wondered how many women down through the ages she was sharing this total misery with. She shook herself sternly. She was making a tragedy where none existed. Exaggerating her plight out of all proportion. She had everything in the world except a happy marriage, and how many of those truly existed? she asked herself cynically. She went up to her bedchamber and found Mrs. Hall busily unpacking.

  "Let me-finish this job, Mrs. Hall. I have so many clothes, some of them will have to be stored in the chamber above. I hope you brought the small ivory casket from beside my bed at the house we rented in London. It contains copies of some important mortgages and loans I inherited from Mr. Abrahams."

  "Yes, the casket is at the very bottom of that brown trunk."

  "Thank goodness. Here it is. The papers are only copies, but I wouldn't want them to fall into the wrong hands. I mustn't be so careless with them in the future." She locked the casket and set it in her top drawer beneath her underclothes. "Mrs. Hall, I think I should wear something special tonight, since we have two earls dining with us. I want it to be as festive as possible. We won't have Shannon with us much longer. I'm sure James is anxious to take her to Douglas."

  When Tabrizia came down to dinner, she drew every eye. She wore her latest court gown, a black tissue, embroidered lavishly with gold thread. Her hair was swept up and held in place by jet-beaded butterflies. The bodice was cut low enough, so that when she moved too quickly, the company was presented with an occasional glimpse of pink. She was very animated and soon had everyone laughing and enjoying themselves.

  Damascus was avid with questions of the court, and Tabrizia entertained them with amusing stories, always keeping an aura of mystery about people, places and events, so that they begged her for more. Magnus beamed with pride as he watched her easily take the center of attention. He watched Paris for his reaction, and it was obvious to the older man that no prouder husband ever existed.

  "What are Englishmen like?" asked Damascus, finally asking the question that had been plaguing her.

  Tabrizia considered for a moment. "I think they would please you very well, Damascus. For the most part they are impeccably dressed and have very polished manners." She glanced at her husband. "They are the antithesis of our rough Border lords. However, though their wit is the cleverest I have ever heard, it is cruel and often directed at us poor Scots."

  "Oh, do-give us an example, Tab," pleaded Alexandria, ever on the lookout to expand her collection of witticisms.

  "All right. What is a Scottish aristocrat?" she asked, and the table was silent. Then she answered, "Anyone who can trace his ancestry all the way back to his father!"

  Everyone thoroughly appreciated the joke and laughed without restraint. Toasts were drunk to James and Shannon, and when Tabrizia asked her when she would be leaving for Douglas, James spoke up and answered for her. "Actually, I'm leaving in the morning, but I'm returning in a couple of days with more of my men. Your husband and I have a piece of business to take care of before I take Shannon home with me."

  Tabrizia's eyes flew to her husband. So they were planning another bloody raid. What was it about men that made them thirst for a fight? She knew that if she dared open her mouth to protest, her father, as well as her husband, would be shocked that she would try to interfere in men's affairs. She left the men to their brandy and sought her chamber early. She took the beautiful butterfly ornaments from her hair, and as she opened her large jewel case to put them away, she saw the glass snowstorm Patrick Stewart had given her. An angry flush stole over her cheeks as she thought of him accepting money from Paris. Absently, she turned the glass sphere upside down to watch it snow. She didn't hear Paris until he was almost upon her, then she swung around and tried to hide the little bauble, guiltily.

  A fever of jealousy gripped him. He had to crush the childish urge to smash Orkney's gift. He bellowed, "Mooning over some damned toy he gave you. I won't have it, put it away!" His eyes lowered to the tempting swell of her breasts, beautifully displayed in the exquisite gown. "And another thing I won't have is you flaunting yourself naked before our company."

  Her eyes widened. "I believe you are jealous," she said incredulously.

  "Jealous?" He sneered, goaded beyond endurance. "I've a beautiful new mistress in the village of Cockburnspath. Why should I be jealous of you, madam?"

  She couldn't be certain, but she suspected that he lied about the girl, else why would he be here every night, watching her undress? Nevertheless, she experienced a jealousy of her own and was stung to retort, "While you are off playing your silly games of war, I shall be free to enjoy Edinburgh and choose a lover."

  His emerald eyes pierced her with their icy glitter, and his hands cupped her shoulders roughly. "If you ever yield to another that which you deny me, you sign his death warrant!"

  CHAPTER 16

  When James returned from Douglas with his hundred men, Shannon ran out to greet him as if he had been gone two years, rather than two days. Paris watched her run like some wild thing, the object of her love blotting out everything else in the world, and he knew that was what he yearned for himself.

  The hundred Borderers alerted everyone at Cockburnspath Castle that a large raid was imminent, and the seeds of a plan began to form in Alexandria's head. She knew without being told that it involved the Gordons, and a thrill shi
vered along her spine as she thought of handsome Adam Gordon. When she saw the ships being provisioned, she could have jumped for joy! Ships were so easy to hide upon, they provided dozens of places for concealment.

  By the early hour at which the men retired, Tabrizia knew the venture would begin on the morrow. James and Shannon went to her chamber the moment the evening meal was finished, and even Troy went upstairs instead of out on his haunts for the evening.

  Alexander sat alone, staring into the fire, biting lips gone pale.

  "Do you accompany my lord, Alex?"

  "Aye," he said- bitterly, "but only because he gives me no choice."

  Paris was almost stripped by the time she joined him. As she began to take the pins from her hair, he gave her his full attention. His eyes lingered at her wrists and neck as her fingers undid the buttons of her rather prim gown. She stopped in mid-button and turned to him. "You know Alexander's reluctance to go on this raid does not stem from fear?"

  "Do I?" His eyes followed her hands as she lifted her skirt to remove a stocking. She continued firmly, "He simply disapproves of punitive raids. On principle," she emphasized. She lifted her gown over her head to remove it and found him almost beside her. "Did you hear me?" she asked.

  He looked at her blankly, and she reminded, "I was speaking of Alex."

  He growled. "If you think I'm going to discuss that young devil, you are sadly mistaken. Come to bed, I must be up before first light"

  She sighed and knew she mustn't press him further if she didn't want his temper to erupt like a volcano. The room was overly silent for long minutes, then he said into the darkness, "Tabrizia... dammit, it's too painful for me..." The words seemed to catch in his throat. "I can't go any longer without..." He sighed deeply. "What I'm trying to-say is, Alexander can stay aboard ship; he need not come on the road."

  She smiled into the darkness and whispered, "Thank you."

  When she awoke in the morning, Paris was long gone, and she felt a great emptiness. She had let him go without a word, and though she feared greatly for his safety, pride had forbidden her from letting him know. If anything happened to him, she knew she would grieve forever over what might have been. If only he felt a small part of the love she felt for him, her life would be perfect.

  Mrs. Hall came bustling in with a tray for her, and the moment she smelled the food, she was overcome by a wave of nausea and began to retch miserably.

  "Och, my little lamb, don't tell me yer breedin'. My lord, all he had to do was throw his trousers on the bed."

  "How can you joke about it?" exclaimed Tabrizia in a stricken voice. "Anyway, 'tis impossible. Don't you dare say a word about this."

  A pale and troubled Tabrizia found Shannon vibrantly laughing and shouting orders to the servants. Shannon stopped abruptly and said, "Tab, whatever is the matter?"

  "I'm afraid about the raid. Aren't you worried at all?" she asked in amazement.

  Shannon gave her a firm, "No! If I admitted fear, it would show that I had less than supreme confidence in my man. He's doing what he must do, and I'm getting on with what I have to do. I need a million things before I go to Douglas, so I'm going into Edinburgh for a few days. Damascus is coming with me. If you hurry, you can come, too. It will take your mind from worries of Paris. Tell Alexandria she can come as well, but we are leaving very shortly."

  Tabrizia smiled her apologies. "I think I've had enough traveling for a while. Did Paris leave behind enough of his men to give you safe escort?"

  "There must be at least two kicking their heels about the barracks. I must hasten Damascus, or we'll never get started. Good-bye, darling, I'll see you in a couple of days."

  Tabrizia didn't run into Alexandria, and it wasn't until the other girls had been gone for two hours that she began to hunt for her. When neither Mrs. Hall nor Tabrizia could find her anywhere, a ghastly suspicion began to form in her mind. She put on her cloak and went to the stables to see if the twins' horses were both gone. When she discovered the empty stalls, her worst fears were confirmed. Now she not only had to. worry about Alexandria's safety but also Paris's temper when he discovered his sister had gone on the -raid.

  The Ambrosia and the Sea Witch were under full sail by first light on that second day of February. At first it had been undecided whether to make port in Aberdeen and ride north to Huntly, or sail right up around Kinnairds Headland and ride south to Huntly. They decided to let the temper of the Atlantic decide for them. They sighted Aberdeen just before the light failed and decided the seas were not angry enough to make them seek harbor. Further up the coast they anchored in Cruden Bay by Old Slain's. Castle for the night, and went over their plans. They decided to anchor their ships a short way into the mouth of the River Deveron, just north of Huntly. They would hit the castle first, after dark, in a surprise attack; inflict what devastation they could, carry off valuables and a Huntly or Gordon hostage, then fire the villages and the surrounding countryside on their way back to their ships. Paris sought out Alexander and told him he need not accompany them inland. As Paris searched his young brother's face, he could see he was tortured with indecision. Alexander opened his mouth to confide something to Paris, then clamped his lips firmly, his resolve taken.

  The anchorage proved an excellent spot for concealment where the riverbanks were heavily treed. The horses were disembarked and allowed to graze all afternoon. It was mutually agreed that Douglas would command his own men and Cockburn would do likewise. Dusk fell early this winter's eve, followed shortly by a deep, ebon darkness, moonless and all concealing. The assault was planned for the midnight witching hour, when most would be abed.

  Paris was surprised when he glimpsed Alexander ahead of him on the road to Huntly. He was not displeased. He would have been enraged had he realized it was Alexandria who rode out with them. The distance they had to cover was less than a dozen miles. Half the horses were left on the blind side of the outer walls of the castle, and the rest in a copse just beyond, each group well guarded for a quick, safe getaway. The few guards at their posts were instantly dispatched before they could call alarm. The guards on the inner gates of the castle were either drunk or asleep or both, and therefore no deterrent to the determined gate-crashers.

  Alexandria wished with all her heart that she had not ventured on this madness. The reality of a surprise raid was blood and savagery and death. She was running through the castle kitchens when a Douglas man beside her spitted an assailant in the throat. The blood spurted across her sleeve, and she ducked into a dark passageway and up a short flight of steps as the contents of her stomach indelicately disgorged over the flagstones. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and was horrified as she remembered too late that it was blood-splattered. She sank down in an alcove because her rubbery legs would not support her. As soon as she felt better, she would retreat, search out her horse and head back to the ship.

  Most of the inhabitants who peopled Huntly Castle were in bed asleep, so only a handful of the castle's occupants realized they had been invaded. Rogue Cockburn's quest was a Huntly or a Gordon. He opened a chamber door, with his men at his back, and encountered a couple in flagrante delicto. The woman saw him before the man, who was too far gone in the throes of passion to notice the intrusion. Her eyes went wide, and fear gripped her throat as she let out a strangled cry.

  "A thousand pardons, my lady, for my untimely interruption," Paris apologized with a leer. The man sprang up from the bed on unsteady legs, having just spent his strength in a more pleasant encounter.

  "I have you at a disadvantage, sir," noted Paris, his wolf's grin widening.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" demanded the man on a rising note of hysteria.

  "I seek a Gordon," replied Paris.

  "My older brother, Lord John, is not here," blurted Will Gordon.

  The Rogue's eyebrows shot up. "Strange, for this seems to be his wife, Lady Gordon, in the flesh, so to speak. "I seek a Gordon for hostage, but I fear you will not suffice. Lord John would hardly be
daft enough to pay ransom for a brother who is tupping his wife." Paris drew his sword. Will Gordon stepped back. "Just slip on your trews and lead the way to where the old earl keeps his coffers," said Paris pleasantly.

  "My father's tower is well guarded. You will be taken if you make an attempt there," he warned.

  Paris chuckled. "We are two hundred strong. You are outnumbered and outclassed, and I warrant even Huntly would be aghast at what I could tell him of your revels in your brother's bed. Just one small coffer will seal my lips. No, better make it two," Paris decided generously.

  As Rogue's men struggled beneath the weight of their ill-gotten gains, Black Douglas met up with his friend. He had a young man gagged and trussed in his possession. His eyes could not conceal their merriment. "Lord John's son, Johnny. He has two sons, but I was lucky enough to make the acquaintance of the heir."

  "Let's go. We've accomplished all our goals. I'll see you back at the ship." It was an old habit for Paris to count heads. He saw Ian ride off safely, then let out a sigh as Troy passed him at a high gallop. He called out, "Any sign of Alex?"

  "No, he's probably already back at the Sea Witch."

  Alexandria was desperately trying to find her way back out of the castle. Suddenly, she heard footsteps running down a flight of steps toward her. She pressed herself against the wall at the sight of the dark young man with a sword in his hand.

  "This way, I've cornered one of the bastards," he shouted up the stairs, and suddenly she was surrounded by men brandishing torches and weapons. They prodded her up the staircase and ushered her into a private sitting room. Adam Gordon said with disappointment, "Damn, he is only a boy." Alexandria put up her chin and refused to speak. She was terrified, but she resolved to act as if she were invincible.

  Huntly, the aging, corpulent earl, shuffled into the room waving a scroll. His skin was as rough as oats. He rasped, "I know the enemy. They delivered me a treatise of demands to my chamber. The Black Douglas and that devil Cockburn."