Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  After breakfast, Tabby questioned Alexandria about Anne, but she insisted there wasn't much to tell. "She dislikes everyone in the family and won't have anything to do with us. Mrs. Sinclair is her nurse and takes all her meals up to her."

  "But if the poor lady is confined to her bed, she should have visitors to amuse her and someone to read to her. No wonder she dislikes you if you ignore her very existence. I'm not used to being idle all day; perhaps I could be company for her, make myself useful somehow."

  "You won't be satisfied until you have seen her for yourself, will you?" asked Alexandria.

  "Oh, do you suppose I could?" asked Tab, dying of curiosity. She sympathized with the lady because of her confinement, but also something compelled her to see what sort of woman Paris had married.

  "She's not behind locked doors, you know. She's not chained to the bed. We don't pass food through the bars to her, for God's sake!"

  "Well, do I just go up and walk in?"

  "Of course. If she doesn't want you, she will soon tell you to leave. Her tongue drips more acid than the rest of us put together."

  Tabby, prepared to offer compassion to Anne, timidly knocked on the door. A voice that was both musical and husky bade her enter. Whatever she had been expecting, it was not this vivid creature propped. up against the white satin pillows. She wore a bright red diaphanous nightgown. Her fingernails and lips were painted to match. A large box of chocolate confections lay open on the white fur cover.

  Tabby hesitated. "Good morning, I'm—"

  "No need to tell me who you are. You're another of those damned Cockburns. Lord, there must be scores of them. I can tell by the vulgar color of your hair and your big tits! Christ, they're like two ferrets in a sack. What do you want?"

  Being accused of being a Cockburn did not surprise Tabby. She had recently come to the same conclusion herself. "I came to see if you would like some company... someone to read to you."

  "Liar! You came to see the freak. The one they all whisper about. Well, come closer, get a good look, damn you."

  Tabby moved toward the bed, fascinated by Anne. The two women couldn't have been more unlike. Where Tabby was softly curved, Anne was slim to the point of skinniness. Tabby's coloring made her seem vividly alive, whereas Anne's was pale and ethereal. Tabby's mouth was full and sweetly curved, while Anne's mouth was the only unattractive thing about her. Tabby looked younger than her seventeen years, while Anne's worldly air made her seem mature and sophisticated. "Well?" Anne challenged. "What do you see?"

  "Your hair really is the color of moonlight," said Tabby simply.

  Anne's eyes narrowed. "I'll allow you one compliment, and one criticism."

  Tab hesitated, then plunged in, "You have a please-me-or-else mouth."

  Anne laughed. It was a hysterical laugh, her eyes, glittering unnaturally. "You have purple eyes— they are quite different. I think I'd like to sketch you. You will sit for me," Anne demanded rather than asked.

  Mrs. Sinclair brought a large box of charcoals and pastels to the bed, but Anne waved her away. "Not now, not now. Come back tomorrow." It was an order, not a request. "And don't come empty-handed."

  "What would you like?" asked Tabby.

  Anne laughed bitterly. "If I told you what I'd like, it would shock your delicate sensibilities, but a bottle of brandy will suffice."

  "What an extraordinary woman," commented Tabby when she joined the others.

  "I have another word for her." Shannon laughed.

  "She has offered to sketch my portrait tomorrow."

  "Oh, not tomorrow. We're off to the fair at Kelso. You'll love it. It's really where the gypsies have their big horse sale every year, no questions asked where they get them from, but there's all sorts of booths set up for telling fortunes and for games of chance," said Alexandria "I was going to ask Paris if we could take you, but he won't be pleased when he finds out you have been up to see Anne."

  "That gives me a great deal of satisfaction. I am not here to please Paris," said Tabby with spirit.

  Shannon and Alexandria exchanged glances. "She's learning!" They laughed.

  "Hush, here he comes," whispered Damascus.

  When he had returned to the castle, Paris had one of his tenants awaiting his return. The crofter reported young sheep missing and asked Paris to hunt down the wolves that were taking them. Paris didn't think wolves would strike until winter and thought perhaps it was a wild cat. He decided to get his brothers and hunt it down at first light.

  The girls decided that it was time to teach Tabby a few things about men and the art of flirtation before taking her to the fair with them. "You shouldn't need to spend any money at all. We'll be sure to meet all the young men we know and give them the pleasure of spending their money on us," claimed Damascus, embroidering a pair of dress sleeves to wear to the fair.

  "If you take a fancy to anything, from earrings to marzipan, you just put your head to one bide and say, 'I adore marzipan,' and they -buy it for you. If you want another, you say sweetly, 'Would it be too greedy of me if I had two?' and they buy half a dozen," said Venetia, who was busy with the curling iron.

  Tabby watched her intently, so she could fashion her hair in the saucy, upswept style. They sat in front of the fire, passing wine around and really enjoying themselves. Their conversation grew louder and more animated, and the giggling began as their instructions to Tabby became more outrageous.

  "We'll take turns, with each of us giving her a tip about the art of flirtation, and I'll go first," ruled Damascus. Very, daintily, she raised her wineglass and twirled around until her skirts billowed up and exposed her ankles. "Always wear undergarments that rustle deliciously when you move about. They become all the more fascinating because they can't be seen. I strongly believe the nuance or suggestion is most provocative."

  Alexandria took the decanter and filled her sister's glass for her. She looked pretty by firelight. It camouflaged the freckles well. She said, "Well, here's a tip I just got from watching Damascus. She always wears high-heeled shoes and pretty hose, and when she descends a staircase, she lifts her skirts much higher than necessary and shows off her ankles shamelessly."

  Venetia stuck the curling iron back into the fire and stretched her hands over her head. "Whenever you are with a man, always glance back at him over your shoulder. It says 'come hither' without you having to say a word."

  When it was Shannon's turn, she said outrageously, "Always make sure your hair is a little tussled— it suggests 'bed' to a man."

  Damascus advised, "Perfume is another subtle enticer. Put it on all your pulse spots, behind your knees, between your breasts; then, when you move, it wafts warmly and seductively around both of you."

  Alexandria saw that it was once again her turn, so she quickly said, "Come on, Shannon, give her some advice; you are more worldly than the rest of us put together."

  "Well, I'll tell you my foolproof method for making a man kiss you. First you must stand extra close to him while he is talking to you and look up at him. A normal distance won't do it; you have to be almost touching. At that point, he will put his hands on your shoulders or your waist. As soon as he touches you, say something intimate, and he will take you in his arms and kiss you It works every time. He won't be able to help himself."

  "I don't believe that." Tabby laughed, draining her wine. She was not used to wine, but it gave her such a warm, giggly sensation, she thought she could get used to it very, very easily. Alt her cares seemed to have melted away like magic, dissolved by the laughter and the secrets the girls shared with her.

  "I'll prove it to you," said Shannon. "Paris just went into the next room. Go and try it out. If it works on him, it will work on anyone. Besides, I need you to divert him so I can get out of here tonight."

  Tabby didn't want to do as Shannon suggested. How could she do what they asked? Men were just puppets to these girls, a mere amusement, but Tabby knew Paris was no puppet. He was a dangerous male animal. They had no idea what a devas
tating effect his mere presence had on her. Just to look at him made her pulses quicken, and when he came close, her breasts-rose and fell uncontrollably as her heart hammered wildly. She protested, but the girls were adamant, so they gave her more wine. As she drained the glass, she felt her blood warmly running along her veins, and it gave her a reckless, glowing courage. She sought him out. "Paris," she called softly.

  "Yes?" he replied coming toward her. When he stopped in front of her, she took a step closer and looked up at him, her tiny frame dwarfed by his great height. "Will you be going to the fair tomorrow?"

  He looked down. She was so close, he took hold of her arms.

  Think! she told herself fiercely. Say something intimate. She improvised breathlessly, "When I undress tonight, I'll have bruises from your fingers, milord."

  Immediately, his mouth came crushing down upon her; demanding all her sweetness. She was stunned by the passion she had aroused in him. His burning mouth left her lips and traveled down her throat, searing a path of flame to the high curve of her breast that swelled above her gown. He buried his fingers into the silken mass of her hair and once more lifted her mouth to his. She had been totally unprepared for the intense reaction she had ignited. Fear sprang to her eyes, and as he took his mouth from hers; a shuddering sob escaped her lips. She fled back to the other girls, wide -eyed.

  "Did it work?" Damascus demanded.

  "Of course he kissed her. Can't you see the sheer panic in her face?". Venetia laughed.

  "It worked like a magic charm," she admitted, not knowing Paris had followed her and stopped in the doorway. She turned and saw him, and saw the rage in his eyes.

  He exploded, "Do you realize you were acting like a little whore, just now?" And he looked at each of the girls in turn. "You are all flown with wine; get to bed!" he thundered. "You stay!" he commanded, bestowing such a fierce look upon Tabby, her feet were rooted to the floor. The girls scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving her to face the rogue. When they were alone, his expression changed. A teasing light came into his eyes as he gazed down at her. "So, wine makes you playful. I will have to remember that it makes you implore me for kisses."

  She gasped her outrage. "I did no such thing."

  He allowed his glance to drop to her breasts, which rose and fell so temptingly with her agitation. She blushed hotly and was about to curse him vilely, when he said lightly, "Tut, tut; don't let those words slip out unless you want your arse tanned."

  "You wouldn't dare," she gasped, taking a step backward because she knew full well he would dare anything. She had no weapons, save her tongue, so she lashed out accusingly, "Do you wish to cripple me as you did your wife?"

  He looked at her for a- long time. "So, you have met the Lady Anne. Did you hate each other on sight?"

  "Not really. She wasn't what I expected."

  "She wasn't what I expected, either," he said -bitterly.

  "She's going to sketch me."

  "Be warned. Use extreme caution. She can be as venomous as a snake."

  "She looks more like Eve than the serpent," said Tabby.

  Paris did not wish Tabby to be exposed to Anne's evil: She contaminated everyone she touched. Yet he did not forbid the visits, knowing full well Tabby would soon discover how unsavory the woman was.

  "May I leave now, milord?" she asked formally.

  "Stop milording me. I thought you might like to know that Mrs. Graham, your hated enemy, is dead."

  Her eyes widened. He had said the statement bluntly, barely. Did he mean he had killed her? She wet her lips, gone suddenly dry, and ventured, "Did she die of natural causes, milord?"

  "No, it was murder," he said flatly.

  She recoiled from him as her mind asked the inevitable question.

  He changed the subject swiftly, abruptly, by reaching into his doublet and producing a gold coin. "For fairings tomorrow."

  "I don't want your money," she flared.

  He took her arm savagely and made her take the coin. "That's another bruise you can look at when you undress."

  She lay for a long time with sleep a million miles away. Her mind twisted and turned and went around in circles, all centering upon him. Did he love her? Did he actually love her enough to have killed the hated Mrs. Graham for her? Did he love her so much he wanted to hold her and kiss her whenever he came close? Or was he an evil rogue who had done murder because Mrs. Graham might tell Maxwell Abrahams about him? Was he an evil lecher who couldn't keep his hands off any woman? Had he really crippled his wife? He had a wife. She suspected him of murder. Yet, as she catalogued his sins, her mouth ached for more of his kisses, and her nipples stood up in hard little buds until she wanted to scream. She touched her lips where his had been such a short time ago, and thrilled as she remembered the taste of him. She was appalled at herself. There was something within her that responded to him— nay— almost cried out to him. It was as if she had no control over her own body. Her mind told her he was dangerous, he was using her as a pawn in his amusing, deadly games. She could make no sense of anything. It was like a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces were completely square-- each time she put them together, they formed a different picture!

  She must have eventually slept, because she awoke with a start very early in the morn when she heard Paris arguing with Alexander in the chamber below. Young Alex cried passionately, "I hate hunting! I think it the filthiest, cruelest sport in the world. I can't bear to see animals die! But you will force me to go with you and Troy when you know I want to go to the fair with the girls."

  Tabby dressed quickly. She would go down and add her voice to Alexander's. A boy should not be made to hunt and kill against his nature. He should not be forced to go on raids at night to their enemies' lands when he did not have the stomach for such things.

  She was itching to give Rogue Cockburn a dressing-down, anyway. The clear light of dawn had brought her to the conclusion that he was a tyrant who would ruthlessly bend anyone to gain his own ends. She had had enough. She would give him a piece of her mind without fear of the consequences, for this was the last day of her captivity. She was about to go down when she heard Paris say, "Have I ever objected to your music or your poetry? Your writing or composing? No! But I won't send you off to some bloody monastery some where to live out your days in uselessness! There comes a time when you have to take a man's part, Alexander. You don't like going out on raids, but when the enemy comes here, you have to know how to protect your castle and women; or they will be burned and raped! You don't like to hunt, but 'tis a necessary evil when wolves or wild cats devastate your flocks and herds. When you have learned to handle your responsibilities as a man, then there will be time for the gentler pleasures of this world."

  Tabby did not go down. She knew she could not refute the truth of his words.

  "Troy and I will track the wild cat. You will go to the fair today. But I am giving you a man's responsibility. I charge you to look after the women and especially Tabby. If you let her slip away, you will have me to answer to."

  After five minutes passed, in which she heard no voices, she ventured to the chamber below. She spotted a bottle of brandy and wrapped her shawl around it. She made her way up to the White Tower where Anne dwelt. Although Mrs. Sinclair's face was grim, she entered. Anne's eyes were hollow. Her fine features were drawn with stress.

  "I won't be able to sit for my portrait today, because we are all going to the fair, but I brought you the brandy." She did not add that indeed she would never sit, for the portrait, because she would not return to the castle. Today was the day she was going to escape.

  Anne looked gratefully at the bottle. "God, I can't stand it when everyone leaves the castle. The last time it happened, there was a man who came and tried to kill me. Old Angus saw him and came to help me, and that's when he fell to his death, chasing my assailant," she said hysterically.

  "Didn't you tell your husband?" asked Tabby, horrified.

  "My husband?" asked Anne incredulously. "Who do
you think sent the man to me?"

  "Hush now, hush, or ye will be in such a terrible state, ye will be ill again. Here, have some of your lovely chocolates, and I'll pour you some brandy as well." Mrs. Sinclair beckoned Tabby to the door. "Best leave now. I know how to handle her. I'll stay with her all day. There will be no 'man' to fear, I assure you."

  Tabby was disturbed by the things Anne had spoken of. Surely Paris had been informed of the bizarre stories Anne was telling. One thing was certain, she was not going to become involved carrying tales between husband and wife. After today, none of it would matter to her, anyway. She must get away before the tangled web of intrigue snared her inextricably and held her forever. Perhaps Anne's suspicions were not unfounded. Rogue Cockburn was a man capable of anything, she decided. If she got away from him now, the romantic feelings of first love would wither and die in time. Close under his hand, they could only grow until they consumed her.

  The chatter at the breakfast table was deafening as the excitement of the coming day threatened to get out of hand. The girls were to go in the carriage; Alexander and three young moss-troopers would ride with the coach to ensure their protection. Damascus had won the argument over who would wear green. She would be wearing a pale organdy gown, over which the green velvet jacket borrowed from her sister looked as if it had been designed for her.