Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  She put him out of her mind and considered Shannon. Tomorrow she would issue an invitation for the Black Douglas to visit and would sit back and watch nature take its course. She had never seen two people as made for each other as these two were.

  As Paris rode within sight of the castle, he scanned the turrets and then the courtyard for a certain figure. If he hoped his wife would run to meet him, he was to be sorely disappointed. He stabled his horse, saw that Troy had just returned from hunting and went upstairs with him.

  Tabrizia was surrounded by his sisters, all laughing uproariously as she did a devastating imitation of the Queen's Danish accent. She stopped in-mid-sentence as Paris came forward to embrace her. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head fondly, and she blushed furiously. He laughed. "Did you know she was the only lady at Court who blushed?"

  Shannon replied, "The things you do and say would probably make a sailor blush."

  Tabrizia took her courage in both hands. "Welcome home, milord. I'm glad you were not delayed. I've sent a letter to your friend James Douglas inviting him to Cockburnspath."

  He looked at her quizzically. "I thank you, my sweet, if you did it for my sake."

  "Oh, not at all. I think we should entertain more often. The girls haven't seen him for years, and I myself haven't enjoyed his company for some time."

  "You?" he questioned: "As I recall, the only time you saw my friend the Black Douglas, you called him some very unflattering names."

  "Oh, no, you are mistaken. He was one of my suitors before we went to England," she explained sweetly.

  He swept her up into his arms and smiled at his sisters. "You will excuse us, won't you? Perhaps we'll join you for dinner later."

  Tabrizia was so startled to be picked up, she raised uncertain eyes to him, trying to gauge his mood. Inside the large bedchamber, he set her down abruptly and demanded, "Tell me true, no-damned womanish lies, did James offer for you?"

  "Yes, he did," she admitted, not wanting him to lose his temper, which he was holding on to by a thread.

  He looked at her, totally amazed. "Why in the name of God didn't you accept him? He's a double earl and a baron sixteen times over. He's the best catch in Scotland!"

  What could she say? She couldn't tell him she refused James because she was mad in love with his best friend, so she didn't answer him. Instead, she said, "I know what a good catch he is, and that's why I want him for Shannon. She's about to throw herself away on Logan, and she deserves better."

  He frowned. "Have you spoken of this to Shannon?"

  "No! When did a Cockburn ever take advice? All I need do is bring them together. -They are perfectly matched." -

  He leered at her. "Like us."

  She moved away from him quickly. "I wish you wouldn't handle me in front of the family, it embarrasses me."

  He went after her and took hold of her arms savagely. "I'll touch you whenever and wherever I please. You are my wife, Tabrizia. You had better get used to it."

  When he let her go, heat coursed up her arms from where his hands had lain. She had thought he was going to take her lips savagely, and her eyes flew to his mouth as she thought of it upon hers. She began to tremble. She was his possession— he'd made that clear over and over, yet he did not possess her. The sexual tension between them was unbearable. Her skin and breasts were so sensitive, she could feel the silken material of her underclothes whispering against her nipples. When he came close, she blushed hotly, then shivered with cold. She wanted to provoke him to the point where he laid hands upon her, then scream with frustration whenever he did so.

  Had she but known it, Paris was much worse off than his bride. He was in a permanent state of semi-arousal. The pressure in his loins made him curse a thousand times a day. Even a brief meeting of eyes sent the blood rushing into his shaft. His growing need savaged his temper, and he considered taking her against her will to assuage his starved senses.

  A messenger came riding in with the news that they could expect Douglas two days hence. Tabrizia planned a lavish meal In Douglas's honor, she had the cooks prepare a traditional boar's head, along with a dozen game birds, including a brace of plump pheasant. She saw that there was everything imaginable to drink from steaming punch to brandy eggnog. It was all to be topped off by a glorious syllabub pudding with thick double cream. Tabrizia informed the girls that James Douglas was coming for a few days, and they looked forward to seeing him again. Shannon told Tabrizia how when she was a little girl, Douglas always tossed her in the air and called her "his own wee lass."

  Just before dusk, the Black Douglas rode in with a score of his men. Paris awaited him at the stables, and Troy took James's men to the barracks to quarter them, eager to hazard the dice with the men from Douglas.

  "Come into the gun room, I've a deal to tell you about the King's plans for Scotland," greeted Paris.

  James grinned at him. "Before we get down to brass tacks, let me drink a toast to the bridegroom. Ye wasted no time, man!"

  "You fancied her yourself, I hear." Paris laughed.

  "Can ye blame me?. Still, I didn't stand a chance. I knew she was hot for you."

  "Is that why she went running off to London?"

  James looked at his friend and said pointedly, "A woman runs away so that her man will come after her."

  Paris mocked himself. "There must be something about me that is irresistible."

  James grinned. "'Tis the beard," he decided, fingering his own dark chin.

  Paris told him he had seen the King about the garrisons and that they were fact not rumor, but, the King had hinted at Scots soldiers rather than English. He also related how he had been ordered to sign a peace bond and then been banished from court-because of the fight with John Gordon.

  "How much time do you think you will have before you are forced to sign the bond?" asked James.

  Paris shrugged. "I know it is inevitable in the end. I don't think there will be any pressure brought to bear until John Gordon leaves court and returns north."

  The two friends looked at each other, and James's teeth showed in a wolfish grin. "Are ye thinking what I'm thinking?"

  "That we should hit them and hit them hard before the bond is signed?"

  "Two minds with but a single thought," agreed Douglas

  Paris took out maps. "If I hit the Gordons, it won't be the villages on the fringes of their lands, it will be at Huntly Castle."

  "As I see it, the problem is that it has to be soon, yet the mountain passes are still blocked with snow."

  Paris pointed to the map. "I'll sail up to Aberdeen in the Sea Witch. That's just a short ride from the very heart of Huntly," he said with relish.

  "I'm coming, too," said Douglas with a finality with which Paris couldn't argue.

  "I'll get Magnus to lend us the Ambrosia. I'm expecting to see his sails any day. We'll each take a hundred men and horses. A force of two hundred strong should put the fear of God into the bloody Gordons."

  "Surprise is our strength. We should be able to outfight them or outwit them," assured the Black Douglas.

  Paris said with scorn, "They haven't the brains to pour piss out of their boots if the instructions were written on the heels!"

  The food was ready to be served, but there was no sign of Paris or the guest of honor. Tabrizia wore her favorite lavender velvet, and Shannon was in a deeper shade of purple with full bishop sleeves. Damascus had again won the argument over who got to wear green, and she stood tapping her small foot in annoyance. "I don't believe men are even aware that it is rude to keep ladies waiting. They should be told about it."

  "It is a dangerous occupation telling men what to do, I've found out recently:" Tabrizia laughed ruefully.

  "Uncouth louts," complained Shannon. "I'll go and round them up," she decided firmly, rising from the dining table.

  She made her way to the barracks where their own men were quartered. The men's dining hall held a score of strange moss-troopers, all with the red heart of Douglas emblazoned
on their doublets. They all looked their fill of the redheaded beauty who swept amongst them. Without ceremony she threw open the door to the gun room and stepped across the threshold. She stopped dead as she saw the dark giant bending over the map table. As he straightened up, their gaze met and held. She lifted her head as a doe in the forest would to catch the scent prior to fleeing from danger, but she was held mesmerized, fascinated. The Black Douglas, oblivious to everything but the magnificent female before him, drank in her beauty with an insatiable thirst. Dressed in black velvet with the heart of Douglas pricked out in real diamonds, he was a compelling and magnetic sight.

  She was drawn toward him almost against her will. His teeth flashed white in his dark beard. "Shannon?"

  "My Lord Douglas?" she breathed raggedly, holding out her hand.

  "James," he insisted, never once taking his eyes from her. He took both her hands in his, and his body's electricity passed into hers, making her shiver deliciously. Still holding her hands, he swept around to Paris. "I am formally requesting your sister's hand in marriage. Draw up the contracts. Any terms you want!"

  Paris had been watching his sister closely. "Shannon... ?" he began seriously.

  She could not trust her voice to speak. She nodded her assent. Her blushes deepened with pleasure and she could not hide her agitation from the men in the room.

  Paris laughed. "James, you are so direct. When do you wish the wedding to take place?"

  "I wish it could be tonight," he answered bluntly.

  "Did you come to call us to dinner, Shannon?" asked Paris, delighted with the turn of events.

  She curtsied prettily before her husband-to-be. "We await your pleasure, milord."

  When she walked into the dining room, with eyes wide and lips gone pale, she told them, "I am betrothed! I am to be married to my Lord Douglas."

  "The Black Douglas?" Damascus shuddered.

  "Shannon, you won't be able to twist him around your little finger as you do Logie. He will be lord and master of his own castles," warned Alexandria.

  "I know that," said Shannon weakly.

  "What of Johnny Raven? Douglas would not stand for you having a lover," Tabrizia added.

  "Thank God for that," breathed Shannon fervently.

  When the men came into the dining room, they dominated it completely. One had red hair, the other black. Tabrizia arose to greet their guest. He bent low to kiss her lips, knowing full well it would annoy Paris. Her eyes laughed up into his knowingly. "If you like redheads, you have come to the right place."

  James Douglas held out his hand in an invitation to Shannon. She was beside him in a trice, all sweet submission. Paris reached out to encircle his wife's tiny waist and gave her an amused, knowing glance. At last she had done something that pleased him, and she heaved a great sigh of relief that her plans had come to fruition.

  After dinner, Paris told everyone, "I think James and Shannon should be allowed some privacy"; then he turned to Tabrizia and said loudly so that all could hear, "Are you ready to be carried to bed, my love?"

  Why does he taunt me with love words in front of others? she thought wildly. Then, in a flash of brilliance, the idea came to beat him at his own game. She would become provocative and loving in front of the others, to pay him back and gauge his reaction. She lifted inviting arms to him and said huskily so everyone could hear, "Are you going to beg for my favors again tonight, darling?"

  His hands were ungentle as he picked her up, and his rapier-sharp eyes pierced her with their warning brilliance. He dropped her on their bed, and she saw with satisfaction that the muscle in his jaw stood out with suppressed anger.

  "I warned you once, I wouldn't be made a laughingstock. Beg for your favors, madam? You must be mad!"

  She shrugged. "You take such pleasure in taunting me before the others. 'Tis a game two may enjoy. What do you wager that I am better at it than you, sir?" she provoked.

  He turned his back upon her indifferently and took a book to the bed as if she bored him to death. She smiled a secret smile and went to the high mahogany chest that held her nightgowns. Slowly, she lifted a sheer apricot concoction and shook out the folds carefully. From the tail of her eye, she saw his eyes lift from the book to watch her. With deliberately slow movements she sat at her dressing table and bent to remove her shoes. Then she lifted the skirt of her gown, elevated her leg and slipped off one stocking. As she reached for the other stocking, she saw him lick lips gone suddenly dry.

  She turned her back toward him and slipped her gown down to her waist. As she lifted her arms to put on the nightgown, she knew he glimpsed the side of her breast. Then she stood to pull down the delicate nightgown and step out of her gown and drawers. The book was forgotten now as he watched her openly. With maddeningly slow fingers she took the pins from her hair, one by one, until it fell to her waist in a tumbling mass of curls. She took up her brush and absently stroked at it, her eyes dreaming of something or someone miles away.

  He cursed under his breath. "Are you corning to bed, or are you going to sit there all night?" he asked irritably.

  She said absently, "Bed? No, I thought I'd read for a while." She took the book to the window embrasure, piled high with velvet cushions, and snuggled down for a good, long read. With a savage snort, he rose from the bed and headed up the steps that led to her old room. "Have the damned room to yourself, since I bother you so much!" Before he reached the top step, however, there came a low, insistent knock upon their chamber door, and Paris came down to answer it. James stood with his arm about Shannon and a look of apology in his eyes for disturbing them. "Can we come in?" he asked.

  Paris held the door wide, then helped Tabrizia into a warm, velvet bedgown.

  Shannon was blushing, a rarity for her.

  James began, "When we get to Douglas Castle, we'll have a formal wedding in the church of St. Bride. 'Tis large and stately, and the bishop's prelate from Glasgow will officiate, but in the meantime, whatever am I to do?"

  His hands cupped Shannon's shoulders and drew her toward his body. His eyes: feasted upon her mouth until she was breathless He appealed to the couple who were so newly wed. "I cannot leave her this night. Could we not drag the Cockburn chapel clergyman from his. bed. to say the words over us?"

  Shannon swayed in his arms. His wish was her wish. Both were weak with desire. Paris almost savaged his friend, then the irony of the situation struck him, and he shook his head and laughed to himself. He reached for his cloak and said, "Come, we'll summon him. If I know aught of his whereabouts, he's in the barracks, drunk with the rest of the men at this hour."

  As soon as they were alone, Shannon whispered to Tabrizia, "Lend me your little pearl-handled penknife." It took Tabrizia only a moment to discern her purpose. Shannon sagged with relief as she concealed it in her sleeve. "Let's not waken the others, they can come to Douglas and see me wed proper in-the church."

  The two girls met the men coming back with the cleric, dwarfed between their great heights. Paris said, "No need to go out in the cold to the chapel. You will be wed no matter where the vows are exchanged." So they were married where they stood, and the cleric was left with open mouth, for as he said the final words, James picked up his bride and swept her from the room and up to her bedchamber.

  Paris and Tabrizia returned to their own bedchamber. Their thoughts were all of the other couple and the obvious desire between the two that would not be denied. They were oddly tongue-tied with one another. Each longed for a tender word, a gentle touch, a love pledge, but each knew the possibility was too remote to hope for.

  Morning brought the sails of the Ambrosia into view, and though Tabrizia dreaded her father's wrath, she was relieved that Magnus would be-there within the hour. Paris had forbidden her to reveal what had gone on to his family, and she had been silent, but she fully intended to be private with Magnus and reveal every detail of Cockburn's wicked behavior. As she entered the dining room, Paris and James had just finished breakfast and they rose to leave.
She gave Paris a triumphant look as she announced, "Take warning, milord, my father is here."

  Paris exchanged glances with James. "He made good time. We can ask him for the Ambrosia, and appraise him of our plans."

  Tabrizia was disconcerted. Paris seemed totally unconcerned about Magnus and his possible vengeance. Well, when she had finished her tale of woe, it would wipe that damned mockery from his face permanently. She watched from the clifftops as the small boat was rowed ashore, bringing her father and her dear Mrs. Hall. She saw James and Paris, down on the beach, drag the boat ashore and help the occupants to dry land. Mrs. Hall immediately began a slow ascent, but Tabrizia watched the men as they engaged in serious conversation. They did not seem to be shouting, or even angry, but spoke quietly, earnestly, nodding and agreeing upon matters. She went down the incline to help Mrs. Hall ascend the last few yards.

  "Oh, lassie," panted Mrs. Hall, "I'm that relieved that ye didna go runnin' off to the Orkneys. And now ye are Lady Cockburn. I'm that happy, I could weep."

  "Aye, that's how I feel," agreed Tabrizia dryly.

  "You must be exhausted after that voyage. Let's get you to bed, and I'll send a tray to your room."

  "Exhausted? Nay, nay. Never had such an invigoratin' time in ma life. The sea air is like a tonic! Ye left half yer pretty things at the house in London, but I've brought them safe and sound. As soon as those great louts bring yer trunks up, I'll have everything put away in no time!'

  They walked back to the castle together, and as Tabrizia took the older woman's cloak from her, she hugged her plump little figure and whispered, "I missed you sorely. I'm glad you are back with me."