Tempted (3 page)

Meg placed the Page of Swords, from the minor arcana, upon the table: “A youth holds a sword tightly in his hands. Clouds surround him. He has to prove his masculinity by fighting. He uses aggressiveness as a defense against self-doubt.” Tina immediately thought of her brother David. She caught her breath as a second sword card turned up, for she knew they were the worst cards in the deck. It was the Five of Swords. “A man carrying two swords on his shoulder, another in his right hand looks with scorn upon two dejected figures whose swords are on the ground. The sky is filled with storm clouds. Here is a man who defeats others, who lives by the sword, who is insensitive and indifferent. The symbolism suggests you will lose something;
there will be a breaking of bonds and separation from loved ones.”

Tina was relieved to see the next card was the Seven of Wands, but Meg made it, too, sound ominous. “All sevens imply change. The card indicates you must hold your own against unfavorable odds. You must take a stand and be adamant in the face of opposition, for only in change is there growth.”

The Four of Cups was laid upon the small table, and Tina let out her breath thankfully. Meg continued: “A young man sits against a tree with his arms folded. A hand extends a cup to him, while three other cups sit upright in front of him. The young man is not reaching out for the cup extended to him, rather he is contemplating the offer. This card represents the love bed, pleasure, and irresistible sexual attraction.”

Meg turned over the seventh and last card. Tina gasped; it was the Ten of Swords. Meg said nothing. Tina didn’t need it described to her—she could clearly see it was a man lying prostrate on the ground with ten swords stuck into his back, while above him was a blackened sky.

Meg gathered the cards together quickly. “It has many meanings; everything looks black.”

“Interpret the whole thing for me,” Tina said, gathering her courage. “Will I get my wish?”

“Yes,” said Meg without hesitation.

Tina sighed with relief. Though she had someone in mind for her husband, she had asked that there be no marriage for her this year.

“The cards speak for themselves. You will be involved with a dark man whose symbol is the ram. He will rule you. The Empress represents you. The dark man will bring you sexual fulfillment; you will be fertile.”

At this point Tina decided none of it would come true because she would get her wish and her wish was “no marriage.”

“The Page of Swords is a youth who is close to you. He
will be instrumental in starting trouble. The Five of Swords shows there will be fighting, struggling, bloodshed that will result in your being separated from your loved ones. The Seven of Wands confirms this change and warns you will have to stand firm if your will is to prevail, but the Four of Cups indicates you will receive an offer and the choice will be yours.”

“And the last card?” Tina pressed.

Meg saw the dark male lying prostrate with the swords in his back. Her beloved Heath was dark. She pierced Tina with a fierce glare. “You will wish you were dead!” prophesied the old Gypsy.

Tina felt something move against her foot beneath the table and jumped. “Oh, what was that?” she cried, lifting aside the table cover and peering down. She saw a large tortoise with a great red jewel embedded in its shell. “Is that a ruby?” asked Tina with disbelief. “Aren’t you afraid your tortoise will be stolen?” she asked, tracing her finger over the ruby.

The corners of Meg’s mouth turned down in derision. “The jewel is cursed. Any who touch it will experience pain and sorrow.”

Tina looked at Meg, and suddenly amusement filled her eyes. The Gypsy was doing her very best to fill her with foreboding. There were no such things as curses. Everyone was responsible for their own fortune or misfortune in this world. “You are a terrible tease, Meg. Thank you for the potion. The ache in my tooth is completely gone.” She went to bid Heath good night so she could return to Doon before her absence was discovered. “Tomorrow night will you take me to see the Beltane fires?”

His teeth flashed. “What choice do I have? If I refuse, you will go alone.” He lifted her into her saddle and she confided, “Father sails tomorrow. I’ll be able to stay out all night!”

* * *

Ramsay Douglas thundered across the drawbridge at his castle, and the guard immediately drew it up and lowered the portcullis, preventing any other from entering. The guards had dubbed him Hotspur because he always rode hell for leather, even when he had a woman riding pillion.

Zara ran up the stairs ahead of Ramsay Douglas, lifting her red skirts high to display her bare ankles and shapely calves Ram followed carrying a blazing torch that flared and sputtered, casting long shadows against the rough stone walls.

Suddenly another man holding a torch high stood at the top of the stone steps. He moved on with a lurch after acknowledging them with a curt nod. Ram placed his torch in the iron cresset outside his door, and Zara flew into the large chamber that she’d first entered the previous spring. As Ram lit the lamps, she turned to him with a provocative pout on her lips. “He hates me!” she said.

“Colin doesn’t hate anyone. He’s too soft and gutless for that.”

“That was a look of disgust—I’m not blind.”

He grinned at her. “That look was for me My cousin disapproves of my wenching. He’d have me wed and breeding Douglas sons if he had his way, as would the rest of the clan.”

She came close and slipped her arms up about his neck and whispered, “In this castle I suspect it’s your way or no way.”

He looked down at her with an almost casual glance “Ye suspect right.” Though the hour was late, he seemed in no hurry, and Zara was piqued He continued his perusal of her person, of the small pointed breasts hardening beneath his glance, and the slanted eyes that gave her the look of her exotic ancestors. He touched the gold ring in her ear. “Did you lose the other earring I gave you, or did you pawn it?”

She gave him a provocative look. “It was the first real gold I ever earned. I shall keep it always—in a place that
will do me the most good.” She was speaking in riddles, and he had neither time nor patience for women’s riddles. He pushed her away from him so that he could remove his leather jack. Her eyes widened when she saw he wore chain mail beneath it. His movements were so lithe, she hadn’t guessed he was wearing the heavy vest, but the Black Ram had too many enemies to go about unprotected.

As he removed his linen shirt, boots, and leather trews, her eyes became greedy as they slid over the pure male splendor of him. In contrast Zara wore only two garments, skirt and blouse. Ram’s deft fingers lifted the blouse over her head, and he said, “Let’s have a look at you, then,” holding her at arm’s length.

The tip of her red tongue came out to slowly circle her lips as she lifted her red skirts beneath her chin and posed for him. His dark eyes lost their casual look as they focused upon her triangle of tight black curls. “Jesu,” he breathed, “I thought I’d seen everything!”

The mate to her gold earring had been pierced and mounted at the tip of her mons. “This guarantees me more customers than I can ever accommodate. I am the highest-paid lay in Scotland, more famous than any courtesan. The king was enthralled.”

Ram whistled. “The king? How do we compare in bed?”

She lifted off her skirt and flung it across the chamber. “The king is not without talent, but you most definitely have the longer … wind!”

He let out a whoop and lifted her high as if she weighed no more than a feather. He tossed her onto the great bed and dove after her, his fingers seeking the gold bauble.

“‘Tis exactly the right size for a man to pass through before he enters the gates of Paradise,” she said, drawing her knees wide so the golden hoop dangled over her hot center.

“Then you’ve had inadequate lovers, my wild little
Gypsy. My shaft is far too thick, as ye can plainly see…. However, if ye insist on playing games, I suppose I have other appendages will fit through.”

Rob Kennedy had shrewdly guessed that his wife would manipulate him into allowing her a visit to her home in Carlisle. Her trunks were all packed by the time he was ready to set sail at midday. The five Kennedy offspring as well as the cousins from the other branches of the clan went down to the firth to watch them board the
Thistle Doon
and wave farewell to Lord and Lady Kennedy.

Tina had had all night to think about her father’s advice to choose her own husband, and she had decided to send him off with a tiny glimmer of hope. As they walked down to the ship, she slipped her arm about his girth, and he hugged her to him and again thought how like himself she was.

“How do you fancy an alliance with the Hamiltons?” she asked lightly.

He gave her a keen scrutiny. Was she hinting at the Earl of Arran’s heir? Jesu, James Hamilton, Earl of Arran was the grandson of King James II and Lord High Admiral of Scotland. “Are ye talking about Patrick Hamilton?”

“I decided long ago he’s the most eligible of all my suitors,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Yer a canny wee lass. Invite him to Doon,” he advised.

“The admiral has the king’s flagship anchored a mile away at Ayr, so Patrick won’t be a stranger to these parts.”

He grinned and hugged her to him. “I’ve nae doot ye’ll have the young stallion eatin’ out o’ yer hand.” He sobered and wagged an admonishing finger at her. “Just dinna let the laddie take gross an’ filthy advantage o’ ye, before ye bring him tae commit hissel!”

As the sails filled and the floodtide rapidly carried the ship out to sea every face showed signs of relief. Davie yawned behind his hand and Tina teased, “I’m amazed you dragged yourself out of bed to do your filial duty.”

“Christ, I had tae see the back o’ him wi’ ma ain eyes. He’s done nothin’ but lecture me aboot carnal appetites o’ the flesh. The old lecher makes me puke!”

Tina murmured to Donal, “David’s not himself this afternoon.”

“Davie is exactly himself. He’s a vicious wee bastard at the best o’ times,” Donal said, thinking of the young prostitute David had abused at the brothel last night.

Tina didn’t take Donal’s criticism of her youngest brother seriously. When they were little, there had been a strong bond between her and Davie. The older brothers had never included him in their hell-raising because the birth of the two Kennedy daughters had separated him from them in age, and Davie had been relegated to playing with the girls. Tina, a few years his senior, had always protected him from life’s knocks and disappointments. She’d always stood up for him against the others, but lately he had distanced himself from her and was bent on proving himself a man. To her he was still a boy, his slim build a long way from the brawn of the older, rougher Kennedy men. She would make an effort to stop mothering him.

Tina fell behind the others to walk with her sister Beth as the group of young people walked along the shore. Beth whispered, “I’m glad Mother didn’t insist I go to England with her.” She glanced shyly at the rugged-looking Andrew Kennedy, then blushed profusely.

Tina followed her sister’s glance and smiled to herself.

“He never notices me,” whispered Beth.

“That’s because you never do anything to draw his attention,” pointed out Tina. “Do something—do something right now!” Tina ordered.

Beth, afraid to, yet afraid not to, bent and picked up a pretty pink scallop shell and quickened her pace to catch up with Andrew. She summoned all her courage. “Lord Carrick,” she said breathlessly, “see the shell I just found”

Andrew glanced down at the small blond girl and said absently, “Very pretty, dear.”

Beth’s steps faltered, and Tina came up beside her. “Men aren’t interested in pretty shells, Beth.”

“What does interest them?” she asked, wide-eyed.

Tina laughed. “You can always count on two things” But instead of blurting out
money
and
sex
, she said, “A man would get excited about a gold doubloon on the sand, or a moonlight swim with a naked lass.”

Beth went white with shock.

Tina said, “Don’t take everything so seriously. Men like to laugh. Listen to how rowdy they are. It takes a special talent to draw their attention from men’s affairs and hold that attention. Let me show you.” The light of challenge made Tina’s eyes sparkle. She took off her shoes and stockings and kilted up her skirts to display a delicious length of bare legs, and the men moved toward her like steel filings attracted to a lodestone. When their remarks and suggestions became risqué, she kicked cold water over them, and Beth looked on in amazement that they didn’t retreat because of the drenching they risked but instead became more daring in their antics, pushing and shoving each other like rams locking their horns over an ewe. Valentina managed to chase them away, like a queen banishing them from her presence. She sat down upon a rock to put on her shoes, stuffing her hose into her pocket.

“Tina, why don’t I take supper in your chamber so we can spend the evening together?” Beth suggested hopefully.

Tina looked at her blankly. “Tonight is Beltane—I’m off
and away.” Beth’s face fell. “Come with me!” Tina invited generously.

“Heavens, no! Aren’t you afraid?” Beth cried.

“Only a tiny bit, but that’s what makes it exciting, like going to the graveyard at midnight or bathing in the waters of Black Loch naked.”

“Kirsty said you were wicked,” confided Beth, beginning to believe it.

“Did she?” Tina asked, sounding inordinately pleased. “I’d rather be wicked than frightened as a rabbit. There’s nothing to fear. Heath’s back. He’ll look after me.”

Beth flinched and wrinkled her nose. “That ragtag Gypsy?”

“That ragtag Gypsy is more man than any woman could wish for in her wildest dreams.” But Tina admitted to herself, she was relieved that Beth didn’t want to come. She brushed the lovely blond strands of hair from Beth’s face and nodded toward the group of attractive red-headed men. “They’ll all be gone tomorrow. They only came to bring their wool for export. I want you to dine in the hall tonight. Wear your prettiest gown.”

By early afternoon, Hotspur Douglas had been in the saddle eight hours, and before dusk fell he would be in the Highlands in the magnificent Grampian Mountains. To cover this great distance in so short a time, he had taken an extra saddle horse and alternated between the two sturdy mounts. At five in the morning he had shaken awake one of his men and thrust the Gypsy girl into his arms with orders to return her to her valley. Then he had chosen two of his fleetest moss-troopers and told them that by dark tomorrow night, they would have the herd they were going to fetch, back at Douglas.

The wild, unbroken horses had been brought up in the northern forests so they could withstand cold and severe weather. They could run a dozen leagues without food. These sure-footed garrons were preferred by border mosstroopers
who had to patrol endless miles of wild, wide-open rugged carse and moors. The Douglas stables boasted more than their share of blooded, well-fed stallions. Ram’s favorite mount was a black brute that stood more than nineteen hands high. It amused him to call the animal Ruffian, a most misleading misnomer. He could vault into the saddle totally ignoring the stirrups, and many would-be imitators had come a cropper trying to master the trick, especially wearing heavy chain mail.

Ram Douglas had as sharp an eye for a horse as he did for a woman, and he soon cut the choicest mares and sturdy stallions from the herd. He left the foals with their dams to run free another year and laughed when the dominant stud stallion tried to attack him for stealing his mares. There was no way he was going to take him south to a possible gelding. Ram pulled a bullwhip from his belt and cracked it in the air whenever the stallion approached, and he shouted, laughing, “Get the hell away! If ye follow yer mares, ye’ll lose yer balls!”

These Highland forests were alive with wolves, boar, and wild bulls, and Ram itched to hunt, but he promised himself not to indulge unless a beast crossed his path and threatened the herd. His instincts told him not to be absent from Douglas for any length of time, for it would be just like the bloody Hamiltons to pick this time to mount a raid, whoremongering cowards that they were.

When he returned, he would send his brother Gavin south to Castle Douglas with at least half the herd. The castle at the town of Douglas, which was often dubbed Castle Dangerous, was not to be confused with the massive stronghold of Castle Douglas, which lay deep in the borders, forty miles to the south.

When Beth Kennedy took her blue velvet gown from the wardrobe, Kirsty was alerted. “I think it best ye dine in yer chamber with me, since yer parents are no’ in residence and the castle is full o’ rough men.”

For once Beth asserted herself. “I’m dining in the hall with Valentina tonight, thank you, Kirsty. She’ll look after me.”

Kirsty’s lips compressed. She would be the length of the room away at the servants’ table. Heaven only knew what topics that hellion Tina would introduce into the conversation.

Kirsty went down to the hall early so she would miss nothing that transpired tonight. Valentina arrived wearing a copper-colored outfit that made her even more vivid than usual Kirsty was pleased to see that the men were not wearing their dress tartans to impress Mistress Honeypot, but she craned her neck to watch what Tina would do when Beth arrived. She was not best pleased when the two sisters sat down between Lord Carrick and Callum Kennedy Respectable young women would have sat with their brothers.

When Ada took her seat at the servants’ table, she saw immediately what was causing Kirsty’s anxiety, and like a true adversary she decided to rub salt in her wounds. “I’m so glad that Tina has decided to teach Beth social intercourse.”

Kirsty hissed, “I consider Valentina Kennedy no fit role model for my gently reared Beth.”

With a straight face Ada said, “Oh Kirsty, let down your guard for one night. It’s Beltane.”

Kirsty gasped. “Filthy pagan ritual! How dare ye speak o’ it in a godly household? ‘Tis an excuse tae indulge in sinful antics of the nicht. Well, let me tell ye, madam, the carnal appetites o’ the flesh shall no’ inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.”

“You think sex and church don’t mix?” asked Ada with a laugh. “The holier the occasion, the fiercer the grapple. Did I ever tell you the tale of the Abbot of Aberdeen?”

“I willna listen tae such smut.” She glanced at the steward and the other household servants at the table and saw they were enjoying her discomfort.

Meanwhile, Tina was enjoying teasing her dinner companions every bit as much as Ada was. With a straight face but mischievous flashing eyes, she said, “Andrew, why don’t you tell Beth the interesting things you did on your visit to Glasgow last evening?”

Andrew darted a warning glance at Tina and wondered how she managed to look such a picture of innocence “I’m sure she has nae interest in men’s affairs,” he said repressively.

“Oh, you are wrong, Lord Carrick. I am fascinated,” said Beth, hanging on to his every word.

“Yer brothers showed us parts o’ Glasgow I’ve never seen,” he managed between mouthfuls.

Beth said, “I’ve heard there are a lot of poor hovels there, but I’ve seen some fine houses, and the ladies dress quite differently in town, don’t you think?”

“Tell us about the house you visited, and how the ladies were dressed,” Tina prompted.

“Ye’d no’ be interested,” he said repressively.

Beth put her small hand upon his arm. “Please?” she begged softly.

Andrew flushed as he recalled last night’s debauch, then he put his hand over Beth’s and gently explained, “Yer sister is a wicked tease. She knows we spent last night in a —an alehouse.”

“Oh, how silly of me,” said Beth, giggling. Tina joined in the laughter, then finally Andrew, and all was forgiven.

Down the hall the steward spoke up. “Mistress, would ye care tae attend the revels wi’ me?” he asked Ada hopefully.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jack, I already accepted Mr. Burque’s offer,” Ada said, casting a satisfied glance at Kirsty, for she knew the Scotswoman had lost her heart to the good-looking Frenchman.

“Burque? Yon prancin’ cook? I thought ye’d be wantin’ a more sportive companion on such a nicht,” the steward derided.

“Mr. Burque is a chef,” Ada corrected, “and you can take it from me,” she said, glancing from the steward to Kirsty, “he can be exceeding sportive.”

At the other end of the hall Valentina was plotting her getaway and wanted to be certain everyone was occupied when she rode out. She addressed both Callum and Andrew Kennedy. “You’ll both be gone at sunup, I suppose? What are your plans for this evening?”

The men exchanged glances, and Andrew temporized, “Well, we did think tae visit Glasgow again.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I thought perhaps you’d enjoy a stroll up on the ramparts to count the Beltane fires—unless there’s time before you leave?”

Andrew spoke up “That’s exactly what I planned tae do as soon as we’ve finished here.”

Callum scowled at him. “I’d like tae escort ye, Tina. It’s very dark up on the walls. A lady needs a strong arm, an’ I offer mine.”