At Calais, a teeming port where anything could be procured, he bought cases of French brandy and beautiful wine from Burgundy and Bordeaux; now, if he could just take on some sweet Spanish wine, his holds would be filled.
As promised, he sought out the private cove, and they had played and frolicked the afternoon away. She chose the moment deliberately. They were preparing for bed that night when she said softly, "I know who is the father of Alexandria's child."
He looked at her a long time. "You have known all this voyage and are only getting to it now?" he asked mildly.
"I didn't want to spoil our lovely holiday," she said quickly.
"Then I take it the news is unpleasant?"
"Well, yes. That is, I know you will be angry."
He had stopped undressing, He searched her face and said, "Does it not occur to you that you are deliberately manipulating me? 'Tis a womanish trick I particularly despise."
"Manipulating?" she said hesitantly.
"Bestow your favors on me until I'm sated, then feed me the nasty medicine while I am in a mellow mood." His eyes clouded, then veiled over.
She panicked as she saw him withdraw from her
"Who?" he demanded.
She hesitated, not wanting to tell him this way. He was angry now; he would go berserk when she gave him the name!
"I won't ask again," he threatened.
"Gordon. Adam Gordon," she gabbled.
Not by the flicker of an eye did he indicate that he had heard her, but she knew he had. After a full two minutes, he turned and left the cabin, not even banging the door after him. She slept alone.
The next day, delicious offerings arrived from the galley at exactly the usual times, but they were offerings for one. In the late afternoon, she gathered her courage and ventured forth on deck. After a few moments, Ian approached her. "His lordship says the seas are a wee bit rough and suggests ye go below, ma'am."
She knew a storm was brewing, but it had nothing to do with the weather. "Ian, what is our next port?" she inquired.
He looked surprised. "We are bound for Scotland, ma'am. We turned last night."
She went below and stayed below. Two could play this game! She realized he was hurt that she had not shared her knowledge with him the moment she had pried it from Alexandria, but she was torn by family loyalties. Paris thought her first loyalty was to him. Now she was being punished, so that next time she would come to heel. Well, she'd be damned if she would. If he withdrew one step, she'd withdraw three! Besides, she had her baby to occupy her thoughts and keep her from being lonely. After a two-day absence, he approached her. She kept him at a cool, polite distance. He accepted this for the time being, silently cursing himself.
She had never looked more radiant. She bloomed with a soft loveliness that the sea voyage and her pregnancy enhanced. Ian took her ashore before any of the cargo was unloaded, and she was flooded with questions from Alexandria.
"It was heavenly while it lasted." Tabrizia sighed.
"What does that mean?" asked Alexandria warily.
"It means that it was paradise until your name came up. Darling, he knows. Be prepared for the worst."
"What did he say?" pleaded Alexandria.
"Nothing. We've hardly spoken to each other since."
"Oh, God," Alexandria groaned.
Tabrizia was so glad that Mrs. Hall was there awaiting her. It was a relief to know that comforting Mrs. Hall didn't want anything from her.
"Why don't ye pop into bed for a wee rest, and I'll bring ye a tray so ye won't even have to go down for dinner."
"Oh," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "that sounds wonderful. I'll rest for a while, but I must go down to dinner to bolster Alexandria's courage."
Mrs. Hall lifted her dress off and noticed her rounded belly and thickened waist. "Are yer breasts tender, my lamb?"
"Very," she admitted. "They seem larger, but it may be my imagination."
"All the classical signs. Are ye ravenous?"
"I could devour an oxen!" Tabrizia laughed.
"What's the trouble between you two?"
Tabrizia sighed. "Alexandria, I suppose. Also our own stubbornness."
Paris spent the evening regaling Troy with tales of the voyage. He didn't so much as glance at Tabrizia or his sister until the meal was finished. Then he gave Alexandria one command. "Come."
She wished she could have vanished like an elf at dawn, but she screwed up all her courage and followed him. When they were private, he wasted no time on preliminaries but handed her a paper to sign.
"What is it?" she asked quietly."
'Tis a sworn affidavit that you were imprisoned and forcibly raped by one Adam Gordon."
"But I wasn't," she replied low.
"Are you telling me that you willingly spread your legs for a man you had never seen before?" he asked incredulously.
Alexandria whispered, "Adam and I knew each other. We had met before."
"How? Where?" demanded Paris.
"When I stayed with Tabrizia in Edinburgh."
The muscle in Paris's jaw stood out visibly as his temper began to rise. He opened the door and bellowed in the voice he used aboard the Sea Witch. "Tabrizia!"
She came in, bristling with annoyance, to be summoned like a servant. The tension in the room could almost be felt and tasted. His eyes glittered emerald green, and when he spoke, the cruel mockery she dreaded was back. "It seems my sister first became contaminated with this Adam Gordon while you entertained him in Edinburgh."
Alexandria, filled with guilt, said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell him."
"Silence!" commanded Paris.
Tabrizia, trying to minimize matters, so that calm could prevail, said, "He came to see me on business about a mortgage. I canceled the debt. It was nothing but a simple business matter."
Paris was stunned. "Is there a conspiracy to keep me from knowing your business, madam?" he sneered.
She declared with some heat, "It was before we were wed, milord."
"I have been your husband for six months. In all that time did you not think to tell me you had dealings with my enemy?"
"It was business, milord," she insisted.
"Damned funny business! What of John Gordon? Was that also business?" he mocked.
Tabrizia knew of the explosion that was fast approaching, so she desperately tried to divert it. "How can you keep us both standing here when you know we are in a delicate condition?" she flared.
His eyes never left hers as he brought forward two chairs for them to rest upon. Then he was right back at her like a dog with a bone. "Delicate, indeed. It is said that the art of being a woman is to do disgusting things delicately. What disgusting things have you been forced to do that you are keeping from me?"
"Nothing! I swear it! I had copies of mortgages loaned to the Gordons and Huntlys. I signed them over to John Gordon in return for my release."
"Where are the original documents?"
"In the bank vault in Edinburgh,'" she whispered.
"Tomorrow you will turn them over to me," he commanded with finality, and turned to his sister. "Sign this affidavit, charging rape."
"But I wasn't raped," she protested feebly.
Impatiently, he said, "That has no bearing on the matter whatsoever. You will sign it, Alexandria."
"I'll get him in trouble," she protested.
The muscle in his jaw began to knot. "I think you have that the wrong way around. He got you in trouble. Dammit, girl, you sit there questioning my actions like I owe you some sort of explanation. Have you two not the brains to realize that when I negotiate with my enemy, it must be from a position of strength? I was born with only so much patience, and that's it; you've had the lot!"
Alexandria signed. He affixed his own signature and dismissed them both.
Close to midnight, Mrs. Hall was waiting for him as he climbed to his bedchamber. "Yer lordship, can I be plain wi' ye?"
"When have you ever been anything but?" he co
mmented dryly.
"She's exhausted and upset." She pointed to the bedchamber. "If you want her to carry this child to term, she needs less shouting matches and more rest. Somebody is going to have to take better care of her." She fixed him with a flinty eye.
He had been about to go in to Tabrizia and lay the law down about her keeping secrets from him. But now his conscience pricked him. He made a face at her. "Mrs. Hall, you are an old horror," and she nodded with satisfaction as Paris went off to another chamber for the night.
July saw Bothwell and a troop of horses clatter into the courtyard at Cockburnspath. Paris made much of them, treating them with a special courtesy. He was pleased Bothwell had come to him this time, instead of sending for him. Paris took him into his study, but he could sense Bothwell's air of triumph.
"Through your considerable gifts of diplomacy, you were able to obtain Huntly's signature on the peace bond. Am I right?"
Bothwell grinned. "He signed willingly-- nay, eagerly, I think I may truthfully say. My guess is Jamie has something on him." Bothwell flourished the document and laid it before Paris. "Now all that remains is your signature, milord."
Paris sighed unhappily. "Ah, if only it were that simple, Francis."
"What do you mean?" asked Bothwell sharply.
"How can I enter into an honorable agreement with men who have no honor?"
"What is it, Rogue? Speak plain, man."
Paris hesitated just the right length of time. It was a tricky business to gull Bothwell. "This is confidential, you understand? If the gossips get wind of it, she'll be ruined. My sister was raped by Adam Gordon. I've her signed affidavits of the ravishment. I'm considering sending them to the King."
"The King? said Bothwell uneasily.
Paris pressed forward with his fabrication. "I suppose I'll have to tell ye all. The King is looking for young Scottish heiresses to marry to his favored English nobles. I promised him Alexandria."
"I see," said Bothwell, thinking quickly. "Need anyone know, man? Send her to Court, and who will be the wiser?"
"In her highly visible condition, I can send her nowhere!" stated Paris flatly.
Bothwell whistled. Marriage was the answer, but he did not dare suggest that Rogue Cockburn marry his sister to a Gordon. Not without sweetening the pot a little. "Let me get back to Huntly and our negotiations. I think some sort of compensation is in order."
Paris spread his hands. "That's not half of it, Francis. Rape seems to be a habit with that clan. John Gordon threatened to rape my wife unless she canceled debts totaling twenty-four thousand pounds. Fortunately, in her innocence she only signed copies. I have the original documents safe, but you can plainly see there is a large sum involved here. Of course, Francis, I cannot expect you to act the go-between without making it worth your while."
Bothwell smiled his appreciation, and once Bothwell's party had departed, Paris felt inordinately pleased with himself. Tabrizia was not.
She had listened to Alexander all morning whilst she had plied her needle to a baby's nightgown. It was his usual plea for her to persuade Paris to let him go to the university in Edinburgh. He pressed, "I'd appreciate it if you would kindly speak to him soon, Tab. The university year begins in September, you understand."
Alexandria eased herself into a chair beside Tabrizia and begged earnestly, "I want you to find out exactly what went on between Paris and Bothwell. I just know he will use that damned paper I signed against me somehow."
Paris overheard the last of this conversation as he neared the solarium, and it angered him. Then he was surprised to hear Tabrizia speak with a raised voice to them. "Damnit, I am sick and tired of this continual badgering. You both know very well that Paris is no puppet to have his strings pulled.. He sees through my blandishments every time, and then I am the one to feel the lash of his temper. Alexandria, I suggest if you wish to know anything from Paris, you ask him yourself. Alex; I suggest the same to you. If you wish to go to the university, be man enough to ask him yourself. If there is something 'I wish from Paris, you may be sure I will be woman enough to ask him for it."
A wonderful, warm feeling spread through Paris as he overheard her words. At dinner she found a small note, tucked beside her plate:
My own Tabrizia, the first woman whom I have ever loved and whom I love to distraction. Forgive me?
P.
Her eyes immediately sought him across the great length of the table, and they might have been alone for all the notice they took of anyone else. As the meal drew to a close, he lifted an eyebrow to her, and she smiled a secret little smile. "Paris, let's go up to the solarium, I want to talk."
"Can't we talk in bed?" he whispered.
"No. Your attention wanders, and the next thing I know, I have completely forgotten what it was I wanted to say."
He grinned, took her hand and led her up to the solarium.
"You didn't sign the peace bond, did you?" she asked him reproachfully. "Paris, you have no idea what it is like for me when you go on a raid. Oh, I don't mean when you roam your borders lifting a few sheep; I mean, when you ride out against a feuding clan. I die a thousand deaths; the waiting is unbearable. Even when you return, I know it isn't over. A raid leads surely to retaliation, then another raid and on and on without end."
He threw up his arms in mock surrender. "I'll sign the bloody peace bond."
She stared in amazement. "Well, that was too easy." She eyed him suspiciously. "You decided to sign it long before I said anything, didn't you? Oh, you are a devil. I shan't say another word to you!"
"Heaven be praised." He laughed. "Will you come up now, or do I have to carry you?"
"Carry me," she whispered seductively.
He slipped his arm under her knees and lifted her high. He pretended to stagger. "Good Lord, what a weight, I don't know if I'm up to this."
She giggled happily against him and whispered, "I can feel that you are, sir!"
He kissed her twenty times before he placed her gently in the bed. He traced her collarbone with a fingertip, and she drew his hand lower, longing for the rough penetration, followed by the heat of his body as he covered her and the journey on which he took her with him to such heights of bliss, she touched the stars. When they awoke, he still held her in a possessive embrace. He dipped his head to kiss her sleepy eyelids, and sighed his contentment.
Venetia came to Cockburnspath to have her child. She had told Lennox she would be less afraid if she could be surrounded by her sisters, and, as if pulled by magnets, Damascus and Shannon also arrived in August.
Paris rigged up a small pony cart so the mothers-to-be could ride about in the sultry summer heat and get lots of fresh air. Even Alexandria enjoyed the outings. She had braved Paris's wrath, and he had bade her, kindly enough, to await developments. A tranquillity had settled upon her, which made her easier to live with. This same tranquillity infected Venetia and Tabrizia. They each exhibited more patience and tolerance with a sweetness of disposition that sent Shannon's eyes rolling heavenward in exasperation. All the conversation centered around birthing and accouchements until Paris finally exploded. "Do women ever discuss anything but birth and death?"
An enormous diversion occurred mid-month. Bothwell rode in, accompanied by none other than John Gordon and his son Adam, They traveled on Bothwell's personal guarantee of safe passage, both in and out of Cockburnspath.
Paris banished his women to the family rooms in the tower before ever he let the Gordons set foot in the castle. Alexandria sat pale and trembling, fearing she would be summoned to the parley; then fearing she would not.
John Gordon had enough sense to let Bothwell do his talking for him. He was a well-built man, not so tall or broad as the Cockburns but darkly handsome. Paris did not bother to extend the hospitality of offering a drink, which showed his displeasure and outrage at this intrusion, clearer than anything else could.
Bothwell cleared his throat. "The Gordons have come to answer the charges you have made. The charge of
rape is denied. However," he added hastily, "seduction is admitted and restitution offered."
"Restitution?" asked Paris coldly.
Bothwell plunged in. "They offer marriage, an honorable solution."
"I have no time for jests." Cockburn waved his hand in dismissal and turned away.
"And also," added Bothwell in a doggedly determined voice, they are willing to offer adequate compensation."
Paris turned and subjected Adam Gordon to a close scrutiny. He was a younger version of his handsome father, without any of the cruelty in his face. Paris summoned a servant to fetch Alexandria. She came, pale and tremulous, eyes downcast, heart aflutter. Paris's eyes never left Adam Gordon's face. At sight of Alexandria he saw the boy's face soften. As she raised her eyes to seek Adam, the sweetness of his smile warmed the room.
Paris spoke directly to the younger Gordon. "If I give my sister to you in holy wedlock, are you willing to live here at Cockburnspath for one full year while we get to know you better?"
"I am willing, milord." Adam spoke up clearly, without hesitation, although the elder Gordon looked displeased.
"I will send to the church, and we will witness the ceremony today. I have no wish to detain your father under my roof any longer than is necessary," he told the boy bluntly.
Bothwell spoke. "And what monies or castles do you ask?"
Paris spoke directly to John Gordon. "You are Huntly's heir, are you not?"
Gordon nodded guardedly.
"Make Adam your heir, instead of your other son."
John Gordon almost balked, then swallowed the insult and the threat to both his and his father's life, implied in Cockburn's words.
"A signed affidavit to that effect is all I require," said Cockburn airily. "Of course, it goes
without saying: that the mortgages owed to my wife must still be paid."
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