Tabrizia stared at him wide-eyed, incredulous. "Nay, milord, you are mistaken. Our ships suffered some damage returning from England. They repaired them yesterday and merely took them for a run up the coast to Tantallon. Look from the window; perhaps you can see their sails."
He glanced from the aperture and said, "Tantallon's towers can be seen from here, but not ships. Do not lie to me, I told you it would avail you nothing. I had a letter informing me of Cockburn's intended raid."
She laughed gently. "Perhaps it was from an enemy wishing to make you a laughingstock, milord. My husband was ordered by the King to sign a peace bond with your clan. He would not dare to mount a raid."
She saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, which he quickly crushed down. She spoke again. "If you cannot see the ships at Tantallon, you will surely see them later in the afternoon as they sail past here on their return to Cockburnspath." She saw the doubt return to his eyes, but she hadn't convinced him, not by a long way.
"I'll wait," he told her pleasantly, "and if you are lying, it will merely be added to the score of what you will be made to pay." John Gordon took food and wine from his saddlebags and set it on the table, then he drew the stool to the table and began to eat. He offered her nothing. Of course, she would have scorned an offer of food or drink from him, but he deprived her of refusing. There was nowhere for her to sit, so she removed her cloak, laid it on the flagstones and sat down upon the floor. His eyes never left her. She was very beautiful with that unusual shade of hair tumbling around her shoulders, and the deep pink mouth provoked many erotic thoughts. He knew what he was going to do with her, and he savored the feelings of desire that were building inside him.
He was waiting for her to offer herself, in exchange for her release. She had a great deal of pride, and he could tell he would have to exercise patience, but sooner or later she would bargain and then beg. How ironic that he and Cockburn had the same taste in women; first Anne, and now this beauty!
Her eyes fell to his hands as he touched the food. They were thick hands with short, blunt fingers; and the backs were covered with dark hairs. She shuddered involuntarily, and a growl escaped his lips between swallows of wine. He could see her imagination was evoking her fears. He knew how to double those fears. He again went to his saddlebags and produced a length of rope. She was up and across the room as swiftly as a small bird in flight, but there was nowhere for her to go. The distance between them closed, and in no time he had her arms bound behind her. He led her back to her cloak and pressed her down upon it. Then he knelt before her and took her breasts into his hands. They were full and firm to his touch, and he let them rest upon his cupped palms as if judging their size and weight.
She spoke up quickly. "Milord, I would bargain with you."
His eyes kindled at the thought of what she would offer. Her heart beat thickly. She knew men were driven by their lust, but in her experience, the only temptation greater than lust for a woman was lust for money. She had only one chance, one throw of the dice, and if it failed, she was totally at his mercy. She added quietly, "Open the casket,. milord."
Reluctantly, he removed his hands from her breasts and retrieved the ivory box from his saddlebags. He had no key, so he broke the lock and forced it open.
He looked puzzled. "It contains papers, not jewels," he said in disgust.
She urged, "Read them."
He took the broken casket to the table and sat down to peruse its contents. She watched him carefully to gauge his smallest reaction, any sign that would give her hope. His brow lowered dangerously as he scanned the first paper. He went a shade paler as-he read the second, and his shoulders slumped visibly as he noted the third and last. His eyes narrowed as he almost hissed, "How did these come into your possession?"
Hope soared within her breast, but she answered him courteously. "I am the widow of Maxwell Abrahams. They now belong to me."
"They are only copies," he exclaimed, clutching at straws.
"That is true. The originals are safe in the vault of the Bank of Scotland," she admitted quietly.
The room trapped him; he got up from the table to pace while he considered all the implications of what had just been revealed. He caught sight of two ships in full sail and easily recognized the one in the lead as the Sea Witch. He spun on his heel to face her. "Does Cockburn know of these papers?"
"If you will stop to consider for a moment, milord, you will know that he does not. If he had known, he would have acted upon them before now."
He took a grip on himself, determined not to let her know he had seen Cockburn's ship returning to Cockburnspath. He said carefully, "If I let you go, unharmed, what are you prepared to offer?"
She considered for a moment, quietly weighing her advantages, "The mortgage in your own name I am prepared to cancel."
He shook his head. "All three mortgages! Even then, how do I know you will keep your word?" he demanded.
She looked at him evenly. "You don't!"
"You will sign these copies and mark them paid in full," he demanded.
She shrugged. "They are worthless; signed under coercion."
"I will take my chances and let a court of law decide," he countered.
"We are at an impasse, milord, and the only way to resolve it is for you and I to trust each other. A few months ago, your son Adam came to me about a mortgage he had taken out on a property in Dufftown. He feared your discovery, so I canceled the debt, no strings attached."
He sneered his disbelief.
"Hear me out," she said quietly. "I know I can give you no proof of this at the moment, but I know Adam will tell you the truth if you question him because he is an honorable man. I will cancel your debts, if you give me your oath that you will inform my husband where he can find me."
It did not take him long to decide. He knew the moment Cockburn found his note he would search the surrounding area. He was probably familiar with the ruined castle of Dunbar, and it was conceivable that luck alone could bring him to the ruins. He smiled to himself as a diabolical idea came to him.. He took the eagle's feather from his bonnet, took his knife and fashioned a quill, but he lacked ink. He beckoned her to the table. "I will untie your hands so you may sign the mortgages."
She nodded. He took the rope from her wrists, and she rubbed the chafed skin carefully.
"There is no ink. We will have to use blood," he threatened, fingering his sharp knife.
She raised amethyst eyes to his, and he saw their color deepen with hatred. "If you spill one drop of my blood, your son will become the new Lord Gordon before the next full moon."
Her words sounded so much like a witch's prophecy, he quickly nicked the back of his hand, dipped in the quill and offered it to her.
Stubbornly, she said, "When you have dispatched your man with the note to my husband, I will sign off the debts, and not one moment before."
He called his man upstairs, only following her commands because he had one command of his own she would have to obey shortly. He wrote:"I am finished with your wife. She is at Dunbar. John Gordon."
She scanned the insolent words but made no protest. She had accomplished nothing until John Gordon quit this place without harming her.
He gave his man instructions to give the note to the first person he saw on Cockburn land, then head for Huntly. Once again he dipped the quill into his blood and offered it to her. She wrote across each paper, "This debt is canceled," then affixed the date and her signature to each. The moment she laid down the pen, he twisted her arms behind her back and rebound them.
A new fear sprang into her eyes as his hands began to roam her body freely.
"The bargain was that you let me go unharmed!" she flared.
He smiled slowly. "Without harming a hair on your head, I can destroy Cockburn's peace of mind for the rest of his life." He began to laugh ominously.
She held her breath and waited.
"I will simply leave you naked."
CHAPTER 17
As the
Sea Witch-hove into sight of Cockburnspath Castle, Paris scanned the turrets. It was a habit he could not seem to break himself of. His lips compressed grimly as he saw no sign of a welcome.
James glanced toward the towers of the castle and said, "No point in my looking for my wife. She is off in Edinburgh, already squandering my money."
Paris shrugged; he would be damned if he would go running to her side like some eager schoolboy. He glanced at the sky. The light would be with them for another couple of hours, and it would-take them that long to safely get the horses off the ships and back into their stables.
He sent the twins ashore with the first boat, still undecided about their punishment. The sun was sinking fast as he and James finally took the last boat ashore. Each chest of gold coins took two men to carry up the cliff.
Paris went up to his chamber to bathe and change his clothes. When he saw no sign of Tabrizia, he thought cynically that she was off in Edinburgh with the rest of the little bitches, and it was a good thing he'd brought more gold, for she was proving damned expensive! Then his eyes fell upon the note. He took it up casually, then he read the words "I have your wife. John Gordon." He froze. Icy fingers closed about his heart and squeezed until all the breath left his body. The note was crushed to pulp as he threw back his head and screamed, "No!"
The bloodcurdling yell brought everyone in the castle. Alexandria clutched Mrs. Hall, whose poor face was swollen out of recognition from the tears she had shed. Paris was like a mad man, and it took the efforts of James and Troy combined to get a coherent story from him. They were all shaken as they learned that John Gordon had taken Tabrizia. Troy poured Paris a large brandy and brought it to calm him. He threw the liquor away from him savagely. "I need my wits about me to find her, you fool!"
He summoned every servant down to the last stableboy. He managed to establish that Shannon and Damascus had left for Edinburgh yesterday. Two old servants admitted they had seen a dark-haired visitor arrive today, but none had seen them leave. Mrs. Hall said she did not find the note until after lunch.
Paris had never felt such impotent frenzy in his life; he feared for his own sanity. He called down a curse upon the Gordons that would last throughout eternity. He was on the horns of a great dilemma, knowing not if she had been taken to Edinburgh or to Huntly or anyplace between, and the day's light had gone from the sky and already it was night. He shouted orders to begin searching. Torn between going out and staying put in case Gordon communicated further, he decided to lead the search.
They began at their own villages to see if any had seen the riders go through, but the answers always came back in the negative, driving him to desperation. He sent Troy with a dozen men to Edinburgh to see if they could pick up any trace. He dispatched Ian and another dozen to the port of Leith to see if they could find Gordon's ship. He and James searched in the vicinity, meeting back at the castle every two hours, all night long.
Paris tortured himself as he remembered how he had stabbed Gordon in the arm at their last encounter. Now Tabrizia would be made to pay for that reckless deed. Discouraged, they met back at the castle at four in the morning. James argued that it was fruitless to go back out in the dark. It made more sense to rest and regroup their strength for a couple of hours and go out again at six when daylight arrived. Paris reluctantly agreed and went off to his chamber; wishing to be alone in his misery.
He dared not let his mind linger on what John Gordon might do to his beloved, but rather he castigated himself for the way he had treated her. He had wanted her to admit that she loved him and was prepared to go to any length to goad and provoke such an admission. Now her loss was unbearable— unthinkable, even— for she was a part of him. The best part.
He swore an oath that if he ever came out of this, if he got her back unharmed, he would cherish and guard her forever. He realized with a dull ache that it was not necessary that she love him; it was enough that he loved her. His red hair stood wildly on end, from running his frantic fingers through it again and again. At half past five he could wait no longer and went to the stables to ready his horse. The stables were filled with Cockburn and Douglas men, and they passed around warmed ale and oatcakes to break the morning's fast. Paris gratefully shared with the men, then saddled his faithful, strong-legged mount: As he rode into the castle courtyard, a villager ran in waving a note. Paris snatched it up and read the words that filled him with dread. "I am finished with your wife. She is at Dunbar." His heart stopped as he saw that it was written in blood. The word finished pounded over and over in his brain. Either it meant he had killed her or ravished her, and Paris begged his God to let it only be the latter. His voice was ragged as he called out, "She is at Dunbar. I will go alone!"
He spurred his horse up the coast road, urging it on, yet dreading what he would find. If she was alive, he must convince her of his love; convince her that whatever Gordon had done to her, it could not destroy that love. He tethered his horse at the entrance to the tower at Dunbar and mounted the steps.
She closed her eyes and prayed as she heard her husband's unmistakable step upon the stair. How could she face him? How could she convince him that his sworn enemy had not lain with her? As he stepped through the doorway, she knelt upon her cloak with bowed head, her hair partially covering her nakedness. As he came and knelt before her to cut the bonds from her arms, she raised her eyes to his face, and the tears spilled onto her cheeks and dropped upon her naked breasts, which quivered with her silent sobbing.
"My precious one, I have never loved you more than I do at this moment." His arm slipped under her knees, and he lifted her tenderly and cradled her against his heart.
Her arms stole about his neck, and she hid her face against his chest. His lips gently brushed her temple as he held her securely, safe from further harm. She raised beseeching eyes to his and said, "Paris, I swear before God he did not touch me. He wanted to destroy your peace of mind for the rest of your life, simply by leaving me naked. Tell me that you believe me. Don't let him destroy us!" she implored frantically.
He looked into her eyes and saw, the purity there. This time there was a total honesty between them, and by some miracle, he did believe her. Without explanation, without proof, he believed her with all his heart.
"Oh, my love," she cried as he smiled into her eyes and kissed away the tears. He took off his cloak and wrapped her twice with it, then he picked up her cloak from the floor to wrap her legs for the cold ride home. Never had he covered five miles in less time, and his heart sang with every hoofbeat. As he rode into the castle yard carrying his precious burden, two hundred voices let out a great cheer that the lord's new bride was safe. Paris grinned down at her, and she laughed up into his eyes, almost delirious with the joy of being loved.
He didn't relinquish his burden until they were alone in their chamber. He sat her on the edge of the bed, then crossed the room to bring her a goblet of wine. He unwound his cloak from around her body and held back the bedcovers for her. He held the goblet to her lips while she took a sip, then he drank from the same spot.
She said, "I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday, the wine will intoxicate me."
"Nay, it will just make you sleep for a while." He stretched out beside her on top of the furs. "I'll be here while you sleep. I never want you to feel afraid again, love. I want this room to be our refuge, our haven away from the rest of the world. It has been that for me, except I always longed for someone to share it with. I want us to be able to be alone together here, to shut the rest of them out. Tabrizia, I want you so much. I need your warmth. I need someone to share with, to really talk to. I need to care deeply for someone and have her care about me."
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I was so afraid of you, and so afraid...." She blushed. "You are so big... I am afraid you will hurt me."
"Oh, God, I can't bear to see the apprehension in your eyes. I swear I never meant to be brutal with you. Let me make a promise to you. I will woo you with all the patience in the wor
ld. I vow not to demand your final surrender until you are ready and willing to yield it."
She reached for his hand and brought it up to her face in a loving gesture.
"Are you beginning to relax now, my honey love"
She yawned and snuggled down to rest.
When she awoke, the afternoon shadows were lengthening into twilight. She could smell food, and for the first time in a week, her stomach did not protest. Paris brought her a velvet bedgown, and as she looked up at him, she saw that he had shaved off his beard. Her face lit with delight, and she reached out a hand to caress the clean-shaven jaw. "Did you do this for me?" she exclaimed.
He nodded. "I think the beard frightened you a little. Come and eat something." He moved a small table before the fire and lifted the silver covers from three great platters. There was a baked salmon stuffed with herbs, grouse cooked in red wine, and a small rack of lamb. She took a small portion of salmon but left it untouched on her plate. Paris didn't take his eyes from her. He couldn't remember taking such pleasure in just looking before.
"Eat something, darling," he urged.
"I cannot eat with your eyes upon me."
"Then I'll feed you." He moved to her side of the table and scooped her up into his lap. He fed her the salmon and insisted she have some slices of meat.
"No more. I'll watch you."
He ate with relish, enjoying the food before him, then poured them both wine.
"You have a true man's appetite." She smiled.
"In all things," he assured her. When their eyes met across the goblets, she dropped her eyelashes demurely because of the naked desire she saw in him. "I'll tell Mrs. Hall to order you water for your bath. I have things that must be attended to, but I promise I won't be gone long. We have a lot of catching up to do." He pulled on soft thigh boots and carelessly selected two rings from his jewel case.
By the time he returned, she had bathed and chosen a white nightgown with tiny pleats that cleverly concealed and revealed her lovely curves with each movement. He reached out and took the pins from her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders in wild abandon. He wanted to crush her to him, to bury his face in the fiery mass, but instead he reached for her hand and drew her to the mirror.
Wild Hearts Page 29