Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  Will Gordon came in. Impotent fury made him almost speechless.

  "Did you catch the bastards?" demanded Huntly.

  "There were too many of them. Took us by complete surprise. Our men are after them. They even fired the villages as they retreated."

  "Too bad John was not here," snapped Huntly, looking with contempt at his younger son. "Is this all we have of them?" he rasped as he indicated Alexandria.

  "He's little more than a child," said Adam by way of apology to his grandfather.

  A man-at-arms, the bearer of ill tidings, announced, "Yer Grace, yon swine have taken young Johnny hostage."

  Adam's mouth tightened at the plight of his brother.

  Will Gordon said, "We'll get him back. We; too, have a hostage."

  "Aye," said Huntly, "I'll wager under his bonnet he's a filthy redheaded Cockburn!"

  Trying to forestall the inevitable, Alexandria growled, "I'm Alex Cockburn, and damned proud of it!"

  "The Rogue's brother, by God. We'll not only get Johnny back, but every guinea he lifted," swore Will, feeling guilty over leading the raiders to their coffers.

  Huntly lifted his hand. "Throw him in the dungeon."

  As a man-at-arms reached forward to grab her, she spat at him and sneered, "Do your worst."

  He brought up his hand and hit her across the face. The impact knocked her cap off, and her tresses tumbled down and betrayed her.

  "'Tis a lass!" cried Adam, his eyes going wide as he recognized Alexandria.

  Huntly and Gordon began to laugh. "By Christ, this is priceless. We've got him by the short hairs now. This is a vixen, indeed, trapped in our lair," rasped Huntly.

  "Cockburn's sister! Dishonoring her will be one of life's sweetest revenges," chortled Will Gordon.

  "Nay, you don't," cut in Adam Gordon. "The prisoner is mine. I know what to do with her."

  Alexandria looked into his dark, smoldering gaze and shuddered with apprehension. He jerked his head toward the stairs. No words were necessary. She took his meaning and moved meekly in the direction he had commanded. Bawdy laughter assailed her ears with every step she took. Adam shoved her into his chamber, and when the bar was secured across the heavy door, he sheathed his dagger and looked at her with deep admiration.

  "By God, if you're not the bravest female I've ever encountered."

  She was amazed at his reaction and blinked. "Do you really think so?" Clearly, she fascinated him.

  "Does Cockburn allow his sisters to go on raids?"

  "Of course not! I'm easily disguised. I have a twin brother," she boasted.

  He shook his head in disbelief. He moved to lift a red curl from her shoulder, and her hand went immediately to her waist. His eyes opened wide as he realized she had a concealed weapon. He jerked her to him roughly and felt about her body until his hands came into contact with her small dirk. He pulled it from beneath her doublet and threw it across the chamber where it vibrated as it stuck in the wall. She thought he would hit her, but he laughed deep in his throat. His eyes told her clearly that her knowledge of weapons doubled his admiration.

  "We are sworn enemies to the death!" she claimed seriously, her face so pale, the freckles stood out distinctly.

  "That will add such spice to the encounter, I will savor it for a lifetime."

  "You'll not rape me, you brute!" she swore angrily.

  "I'm not going to ravish you, Alexandria, but I am going to make love to you," he promised, licking his lips. "I've thought about you many a night as I lay abed."

  "I can fight like a lad," she warned.

  "I do not doubt your strength or courage for one moment. You are yet a maid because of your tender years. Your maidenhead is the forfeit I demand from you as a Gordon."

  She pulled away from him so swiftly, it wrenched the buttons from her doublet. It gaped apart, revealing her tender breasts to his avid gaze. She ignored her nakedness and gathered her strength. With her fist doubled into a tight knot, she jammed it into his diaphragm cruelly and felt the jolt all the way to her shoulder. The blow staggered him momentarily and knocked the breath from his body. While he was thus disabled, she sprang at him and raked her nails down his cheek. He gasped from the sharp sting of it and knocked her to the floor before she could reach for the other side of his face. He dropped his weight on her to pin her down, but like a wildcat she grabbed two fistsful of dark curls, and they rolled over and over across the room. She was panting from her exertion, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

  She struggled so fiercely, she came out of the doublet completely. Adam's eyes were drawn irresistibly to the rosy-tipped mounds exposed to him, so she took instant advantage and brought her knee up sharply between his legs. He prevented the blow from doing him an injury, just in time. He laughed at the sheer pluck of the little wench. In very truth, it was almost like fighting with another youth, so reckless was she.

  Her blood was up now. She was hot and panting with such a passionate hatred, she would have killed him if she could have reached a weapon. He came full length against her to swiftly take her mouth in a long, hard kiss, and at the same time his hand came up to possess her breast firmly. Her eyes flew open, and she received the full impact of his gray, smoky eyes as he gazed deeply into hers. She tore at his chest, and his shirt came away in shreds, leaving his chest bare. In that moment there was something feral and very primitive in the actions of both male and female. He began to take his mouth from hers, but she reached up and took his mouth so savagely, it hurt him. He was throbbing hard now, so he opened his thighs and pulled her against his body, knocking the wind from her. Her mouth left his, and she fastened her teeth into his breast, until she tasted blood on her lips. He stripped off her breeches, then relieved himself of the same impediment. They stood naked and faced each other. They had sipped from the cup and tasted the heady brew, and it was not enough for them. She reached out a hand to touch the beautiful male weapon, and he crushed her to him, determined to dominate the strong-willed female. They sank to the floor with a moan.

  Later, when the madness had receded a little and the white heat of their blood had cooled slightly, he lifted her gently and took her to his bed. He pulled her against the curve of his body and whispered, "Alexandria, I think I am in love with you."

  "What are we going to do?" she asked miserably, as she realized the trap they had both fallen into, with little hope of ever being released.

  When Paris reached the ship, a great weight was lifted from his shoulders when he saw Alexander. "How the devil did you get back so quickly?" Alexander had the same-worried frown as before. Finally, he said, "I never left the ship. It was Alexandria who went on the raid."

  "Jesus and Mary," cried Paris. "Where's Douglas? Let's hope to Christ he hasn't hanged Johnny Gordon. Don't weigh anchor yet, I am afraid we have some unfinished business;" he ordered.

  James Douglas had taken his prisoner directly to a secure cabin belowdecks. Paris went below and flung open the cabin door. "James, as you love me, do not harm that little swine, Gordon!"

  "Why, I wouldn't touch a hair on his head. Our Johnny is going to bring us a king's ransom."

  "Not this time, James, I'm afraid," said Paris unhappily. He explained things to his friend, feeling a damned laughingstock.

  "I thought everything was going too well." Douglas laughed ruefully.

  "I'll skin the little bitch alive when I get my hands on her, but in the meantime, James, I must put her safety first."

  "We'll have to exchange this little snot for Alexandria. Let's hope to God they haven't discovered she is a wee lass."

  Their young prisoner looked vastly relieved at the talk of exchange. He had been brought up on stories of Cockburn atrocities.

  "Will we geld him first?" joked Douglas, effectively wiping the relieved look from their young prisoner's face.

  "I'll go at first light; just me and the boy," said Paris. "They will be expecting me, and they might set a trap."

  "How will you keep Ian or
, for that matter, Troy from being at your side?" inquired James doubtfully.

  "I command men easily; women are more difficult, damn them to hell," swore Paris.

  A heavy frost had turned the world white as daylight approached on that February morn. As the two horses reined to a full stop beneath the castle walls, they pranced and snorted so their breath spiraled from their nostrils in the sharp, freezing air. All in the castle were aware of Cockburn's arrival. An urgent summons had come from Huntly to bring their fair prisoner down to the Great Hall.

  The young man and maid in the great curtained bed had heard the summons but had not yet complied. Alexandria clung to Adam as if once she let him from her embrace, she would never know him again. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered brokenly, "I cannot bear the separation."

  He stroked her hair, then put her from him firmly. "You will. We both will, until I find a way. Where is the courage I admired so much in you?" he chided gently.

  She slipped from the bed and groped for her clothes. "The buttons are gone from my doublet," she said helplessly, not even able to dress herself in her great distress.

  Adam went to his armoire and took a fresh linen shirt. "Put this on underneath, then it won't matter if the doublet won't button. It will also remind you of me."

  Blindly, she put her arms through and sat like a puppet while he finished dressing her, then went back to the bed to search for hairpins. She pulled on her cap, and he tucked in the bright, errant curls.

  Huntly stood out of sight atop the castle walls and prompted Will in his negotiations with the Border lord.

  Paris's voice rang clearly in the cold air. "I know 'tis a poor exchange, but I offer a Gordon for a Cockburn." He was careful to make no reference to Alexandria's gender in case they had not discovered her to be female.

  At Huntly's instructions, Will called down, "We demand also the return of the chests of gold."

  Paris's hand trembled slightly at his own temerity as he uncoiled a length of rope from his saddle-brow. "Ye are about to witness a hanging!" He spurred his horse toward a small stand of birch, and young Johnny Gordon screamed, "Help me!"

  "Hold!" came the command from above. "If you hang a Gordon we will hang a Cockburn," it threatened.

  Paris grinned and gave them an insolent bow. "The sacrifice is well worth it, to rid the world of .a Gordon!" He spurred on toward the trees, taking the second horse with him. At a leisurely pace he threw the rope over a stout limb and tested it. Then he began to fashion a noose from its length. He maneuvered the horse of the bound man so that he could loop the noose over his head when the portcullis of Huntly Castle was lowered to relinquish its Cockburn hostage. As Alexandria rode forward at a slow canter, Paris gave Johnny Gordon his freedom. He gave the horse a slap on the rump, and it took off for its home stable without delay.

  Paris dismounted and was at Alexandria's stirrup in a trice. He looked up anxiously. "Sweetheart, are ye all right?"

  When she saw the deep lines of worry and fatigue etched in his face, her conscience smote her sorely. When he saw that she was unharmed, anger quickly replaced concern. "When I am done with you, you will never play one of your damned female tricks again. You and your brother will finally be taught your lesson."

  She gave a little grimace and said, "I don't care what you do to me; just don't punish Alexander for my sins."

  Paris was angrier than ever as he exclaimed, "You two stick together, no matter what havoc you wreak!"

  Halfway back to the ship, they were met by James Douglas, who had loaded the gold on a packhorse and was on his way to return what they had looted.

  Paris's face split into a grin. "What, James? No faith in me?"

  "I didn't think even you could manage an even swap!" remarked Douglas candidly. "How did you do it?"

  Paris winked. "Pure humbuggery, but I was shaking in my boots, I can tell you."

  On board the Sea Witch, the men all stared in silent embarrassment at the girl who had jeopardized their laird's plans.

  Paris looked at the twins coldly. "I give you leave to remove yourselves from my presence." Then, when they were gone below, he threw his arm about James, and they laughed heartily at the great relief they felt. Paris ordered whisky all around before they weighed anchor and sailed for home, victorious. When he returned home, things were going to be different, he vowed. He was done with waiting; he had just proved the best way to take what you wanted in this life. He anticipated seeing his wife with great impatience.

  When Shannon and Damascus arrived at the town house in Edinburgh, they were disconcerted to find that Margaret was staying there. Shannon knew how to be rid of her in a hurry and didn't hesitate to embellish her story. "Margaret, didn't you know Magnus has returned to Tantallon? Oh, he will be disappointed when he finds that you are not there awaiting him with open arms. You were all he could talk about; he missed you sorely. I declare I never saw a man so eager."

  Damascus aided and abetted her sister. "I wonder what presents he brought you from London?"

  Margaret looked surprised. "Is his daughter married, then?"

  Shannon took great delight in uttering her next words. "Ah; yes, when my brother Paris took a hand in the affair, matters were soon speeded up."

  "Paris?" echoed Margaret suspiciously.

  "Yes, he made Tabrizia the new Lady Cockburn."

  Margaret could not conceal the pure hatred that emanated from her and washed over the two young women. The emotion that gripped her was so strong, it pinched her nostrils together and set her body aquiver. The black hair gave her a sallow look, and suddenly she looked vastly older than her thirty years.

  Damascus could not resist the coup de grace: "By the way, Shannon is now the Countess of Douglas."

  Margaret laughed. "I don't believe you. If you are newly wed, why isn't the Black Douglas at your side?" she scorned.

  "He's gone with Paris to route the bloody Gordons," said Damascus. Shannon shot her sister a look of warning, but it was too late; the secret of the raid was out. It didn't make much difference, anyway, since the men might be back tomorrow. The exchanged look had convinced Margaret they were telling the truth. She drew herself up to her full height. "Do make yourselves at home. I shan't be staying long." She walked slowly and sedately up to her bedchamber. Already a brilliant idea had come to her. A clever woman always had her revenge ready. Margaret seldom received a piece of news or information that could not be used or turned to her advantage. Only that morning she had glimpsed Lord John Gordon arrive in Edinburgh, fresh from the King's Court in London. An anonymous note to the man would be too late to warn him of the raid but in time to let him know that Cockburn's new bride was all alone at Cockburnspath Castle.

  Tabrizia lay in the big curtained bed with the curtain at the foot drawn back to let in the cheer and warmth from the fireplace. Sleep eluded her, no matter how she begged it to fly with her to oblivion. By her calculations they should have returned today. She touched Paris's pillow, finding it strange that she could not sleep without his possessive eyes laying claim to her body; or without that harsh voice constantly mocking her. Now she dreaded his return, for even if everything had gone well, there was still his anger to be faced over Alexandria. His anger could send shivers of fear along her spine. She sighed and turned over in the bed, and the next thing she knew, it was morning. The nausea threatened again, but Tabrizia tried not to think of what it might mean. Just the remote possibility of a child would make her delirious with happiness, but she could not bring herself to even hint at such a possibility to Paris, not with things the way they were between them at the moment.

  Lord John Gordon rode with a single escort toward Cockburnspath. He came warily, not entirely trusting the information he had received in the anonymous note. However, as he approached the courtyard without challenge, his confidence soared, and he began to believe that this was going to be his lucky day.

  He strode into the castle without hesitation, turning the heads of servants who were curious
but not wary of the stranger. He made his way up to the solarium and, finding it empty, was encouraged to seek farther afield.

  Tabrizia was just emerging from her chamber when he caught sight of her; and his eyes lit with recognition of the beauty who had said she would die before she would let a Gordon defend her honor. The instant she saw him, she fled back into the bedchamber and tried to put the bar down across the door, but the man's weight was too great, and suddenly he was in the room with her.

  "I am not alone here," she bravely bluffed.

  John Gordon laughed openly. "Lies will avail you nothing, madam. I am taking you hostage."

  Her mind flew to the copies of the mortgages she held on Gordon properties, and she went to the cabinet. "I have something that will make you bargain, milord."

  He saw the ivory casket and grabbed it from her. "I'll have the jewels as well as you, madam. Thank you for revealing their whereabouts." He walked to the table and scribbled a short note for Cockburn: "I have your wife. John Gordon."

  He drew his knife and waved her toward the door. "Come quietly."

  John Gordon took her up before him on his horse, and they rode up the coast road. Not five miles away stood the old castle of Dunbar. Part of it lay in ruin, but other parts were still habitable. One of the towers stood intact. He posted his man on guard at the entrance and took Tabrizia up into the tower.

  There was little furniture in the tower room, only an old table and a stool on which years of dust and neglect had gathered. There was a cold, bare flagstone floor, so the first priority was a fire. When the room was warm John Gordon sat upon the stool and faced his captive. He was so handsome in a florid way, she could hardly believe anyone with such pleasing looks could be evil.

  She stood before him and raised her eyes to his, willing herself to look like an angel of innocence. "Milord, why do you do this?"

  "The Cockburn raids Huntly, and you ask why?" he replied silkily.