The Border Hostage (18 page)

Instead of putting him in his place with a cold refusal, Raven smiled. “Why not?” Surely an English queen would be her ally!

Tina gave her a look of approval. “Where is Indigo?” she asked her brother. “I want to show her off to Raven.”

“She's grazing in her favorite haunt, by the river. I put my own mares down there with her.”

When the hawks returned with their prey, Raven and Tina cast them again in the direction of the river and rode after them, along with Heath.

“Oh, she's purple!” Raven exclaimed. “That's why you called her Indigo. I've never seen a more beautiful animal.” The ladies dismounted and Indigo greeted Tina by blowing softly through her nostrils and tossing her mane in a playful manner.

“She's a Barbary. Heath gave her to me.”

“Wherever did you find her?” Raven asked Heath.

“I'll let you explain that one,” Tina said, laughing.

“I won her from Ramsay in a knife-throwing contest. How was I to know he had lifted her from the head of Clan Kennedy, the Earl of Cassillis? And how was either of us to know the earl intended this fancy female for the king?”

Tina laughed. “I was mounted upon Indigo the morning that the earl and Ram had a terrible fight over the filly's ownership. The king witnessed their barbarous behavior and bade me keep the mare to make up for their atrocious manners.”

“Don't Borderers realize that taking something which belongs to another is theft?” Raven asked sweetly.

“They realize it.” Tina swept her with an amused glance. “They simply believe that if a man cannot hold what is his, he doesn't deserve to keep it.”

Sultan and Sheba returned with wood ducks from the river. “I shall give these to Mr. Burque and ask him to prepare them especially for you two tonight,” Tina said. “It is obvious you have many differences to resolve and would benefit from time alone together.” Before Raven could protest, Tina declared, “I am going to walk back. That saddle has paralyzed my bottom.”

“Leave the ponies with me,” Heath suggested. “They'll enjoy being out in the pasture overnight.”

The ladies readily agreed. Though Raven had qualms about being alone with Heath Kennedy, she had none about leaving Sully with him. Heath's love for horses, and their affection for him, was plain to any who saw them together. Raven cast the hawks in the direction of the stables, and the two women enjoyed their walk back through the long, sweet-smelling grass of the meadows.

Raven opened the wardrobe and carefully considered what she would wear for the intimate dinner alone with Heath Kennedy tonight. She planned to put some of Ada's suggestions to the test to see if they had any effect upon him. Raven blushed; naturally she had no intention of having a sexual experience, but she would dress for him, and laugh with him, and use him softly, rather than pitting her will against his. Instinct told her she'd get more from this man by appealing to his senses than by making demands.

She decided to wear a pale peach dress made from taffeta. Its pastel shade was a pretty contrast to her dark hair, and the rustling sound the material made as she walked across the room was deliciously feminine. She wondered if it would serve her better to openly await him in his chamber, then decided against it. No, let him come to her. It would be the first test, to see if just the sight of her alone could lure him over the threshold.

She also decided that they should eat in here before the fire. The setting and the atmosphere were warm and conducive to soft words. The big bed looming behind them in the flickering shadows would be as tantalizing as an unspoken promise. Raven smiled as it dawned on her that she was planning to seduce him. Not physically, of course, but in every other way a woman could seduce a man.

*  *  *

When she heard him enter the tower room, she remained out of sight. She heard him splash water into the bowl and from the other sounds realized that he also was shaving. She saw his shadow pass across the doorway, heard the rustle of garments, and knew that he was changing his clothes. She counted to one hundred, took a deep breath, and showed herself in the doorway. He was tucking a linen shirt into his breeches, which gave her an excuse to murmur a brief apology and quickly withdraw.

Raven's pulse raced as Heath's tall figure filled the doorway. She allowed the hint of a smile to touch her lips. “Thank you for attending Sully; he has taken quite a fancy to you.” Her soft words worked like magic, drawing him across the threshold and into the chamber. She bent down and picked up the poker. When she saw his wary look, she laughed and held it out to him. “Would you tend the fire? We could have dinner in here, if you like.”

His fingers touched hers as he took the poker. “I would like.”

His touch and his voice played havoc with her senses, and she hoped she was having a similar effect upon him. As she moved toward a small table that sat in the corner of the chamber, the peach-colored taffeta whispered deliciously against her legs. She knew that he could hear it by the way his glance followed her. “Could you set this table before the fire?” She could easily have lifted it herself, but it gave her pleasure to have him respond to her smallest requests.

He moved the table, and as she came back across the room, he stared at her, entranced.

“Why are you staring?” she asked breathlessly.

“I can see your aura tonight. It is a lovely shade of deep lavender. I first saw it the day we met.”

Raven knew there were such things but that only certain people could see them. She smiled at him. “And what does it tell you about me?”

“It tells me that you are in a receptive mood tonight, perhaps even playful.” He drew close and lifted his hand
above her head. “It surrounds your hair like a halo.” He moved his hand lower. “The light even plays about your shoulders.” His fingertips brushed across her taffeta sleeve in a tentative gesture.

Raven smiled up into his eyes. She knew he had been unable to resist touching her and knew she would test her female power further. She ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip in a provocative gesture that invited him to kiss her. She saw the pupils of his eyes dilate and, as he dipped his head to take possession of her mouth, tasted the sweetness of victory.

The knock upon the outer door forestalled the kiss. She heard him curse beneath his breath and knew she had won the first round of the male/female game they played. “That will be dinner. Are you not hungry?”

“Ravenous,” he admitted. “There is nothing like an interrupted kiss to whet the appetite.”

“Perhaps we should save the kisses for dessert, unless Mr. Burque offers something more tempting.”

Heath opened the door, thanked the servant, then brought the laden serving tray and set it on the table before the fire. He held Raven's chair for her, but could not resist cupping her shoulders and dropping a kiss on her hair when she sat down. She waited until he was seated across from her before she lifted the covers. “Smoked salmon,” she said happily.

He sniffed appreciatively. “With dill.”

“You have a considerable knowledge of herbs.”

“Something else we have in common.”

She reached for another silver cover and thrilled when his hand covered hers, so they could lift it together. Tonight, whenever he touched her, he evoked a wild sensation deep within that made her want to scream, yet she could not resist tempting him, luring him to touch her.

The skin on the wood ducks was crisply brown, and the cherry sauce was a perfect complement for the game. Playfully, Raven dipped her finger in the sauce, then held
it out to Heath. He lifted her hand to his lips and licked off the sweetness. Beneath another cover was a panache of fresh greens and a dish of artichokes with drawn butter. Heath immediately broke off a leaf, dipped it in the butter, and offered it to Raven. As her lips took it from his fingers, she deliberately bit him. “Did you know the part that we eat is the flower of the artichoke?”

“Did you know that the artichoke is an aphrodisiac?”

Raven blushed, for indeed her grandmother had taught her all about the plants that provoked lust, and now she was beginning to experience the effect firsthand. The food was so good, they both ate with gusto. When Heath poured them wine, he warned, “Drink sparingly; Mr. Burque may have brewed us a love potion.”

Raven smiled, knowing she held him in the palm of her hand. She was most confident that when she asked him to put the door back on its hinges to give her privacy, he would rush to do her bidding. To do otherwise would be churlish.

Heath was secretly amused that Raven had done an about-face and changed her tactics. Until today, they had been fencing. Every time he had tried to thrust, she had parried. Now she pretended that she had laid down her arms and was ready to surrender. She was using her feminine wiles to seduce him into a giving mood. Her behavior pleased him, for her game of enticement told him that she was beginning to enjoy the wooing and welcomed his advances.

Suddenly, Heath raised his head, like an animal who scents danger on the wind. Then they both heard shouts from somewhere below and realized that cries of alarm were being raised throughout the castle. Heath ran for his sword and as he opened the tower door heard the terrifying cry,
“Fire! Fire!”

Raven, her hand at her throat, followed Heath as he descended the tower stairs to join Ram Douglas, who was hastily gathering his moss-troopers. When she learned that the fire was in the stables, she clutched Heath's arm and cried, “Sully!”

“Sully's safe in the meadow, Raven—go back up to the tower!” Heath shouted above the pandemonium, before he was swallowed by the swarm of men surging through the castle doors into the bailey.

She offered up a quick prayer of thanks that Heath's mares and the herd he worked with every day were safe outdoors, but knowing the stables held the mounts of fifty moss-troopers filled her heart with dread. Ada, in a hastily donned bed robe, was organizing the servants to set up a table in the hall to treat the burns and other injuries that would be inevitable. Raven vaguely remembered seeing Ada and Gavin Douglas emerge from the same bedchamber, but realized how insignificant dalliance was in the face of the danger and destruction that threatened. The laundry women brought sheets and Raven joined them to prepare bandages, when suddenly she remembered Sultan and Sheba!

Her peregrine falcons were tethered to a perch in the mews, and she realized that none would even attempt to rescue them when the lives of horses were at stake. Raven ran out into the bailey and saw the flames from the stables burning bright yellow and orange against the dark sky. She reasoned that the stable itself was built from stone and could not burn. It must be the wooden stalls filled with hay, and the thatched roof, that were on fire.

Men were bringing out horses as fast as they could. The crackling and roaring of the fire mixed with the terrified screams of the animals, and clouds of acrid black smoke billowed everywhere, causing both men and beasts to cough and choke. With only one goal in mind, Raven entered the stable and ran up the five stone steps that led to the mews. The wooden door at the top of the steps was smoldering, but without hesitation she pushed against it and cried out as it burned her hands. The screeching falcons were moving back and forth across their perch, flapping their wings in a panic of fright. The heat was intense because the thatched roof above them was entirely in flames. Raven's heartbeats thundered in her ears as she
grasped hold of the jesses in an effort to untie them from her falcons' legs. Her fingers hurt so badly they fumbled again and again as she attempted to undo the cords. She murmured soothing words to calm the birds, and perhaps to calm herself, but they seemed to have little effect.

Finally the jesses fell from Sultan's legs, and he flew in a circle, then returned and perched next to Sheba as Raven struggled with the jesses that held the beautiful creature captive. At last she pulled the tangled cords from the female's claws, still not realizing that her hands were badly burned. “Fly, fly!” she cried, but as she looked up, watching them rise toward the flaming thatch, her cries turned into a scream. Then, like a miracle, a huge section of thatch fell away in a shower of sparks, and a circle of dark sky became visible. As Raven watched them fly to freedom, relief overwhelmed her. She sank to her knees, then stared at her hands in disbelief. Her fingers were burned black, and her palms were swollen red and blistered. She knew the terrible danger she was in and knew she must get outside fast. The moment she stood up, however, Raven felt the full impact of the searing, agonizing pain that enveloped her burned hands, and she went down in a faint.

When Heath Kennedy arrived at the burning stables, he rushed inside and went directly to the corner box stall with the iron-barred door, where his Armstrong prisoner was incarcerated. The wooden walls of the stall were ablaze, but there was no one trapped inside. The Borderer was gone. Heath cursed as his suspicions hardened. This fire had been deliberately set to get Armstrong away from Eskdale.

He had no time to worry about it now. He grabbed the manes of two horses, who were kicking their burning stalls apart, and ran with them into the bailey. As he returned for more horses, he saw a small figure dressed in pink run up into the mews on the far side of the stables. “Raven! No!” Fear snaked through his gut. He knew immediately that she was going up there in a reckless attempt to rescue her falcons. The rows of stalls between them were all
ablaze, and the floor was thick with burning wood and flaming hay that flew up into the air as it caught fire.

Heath made his way across the stables, trying not to impede the men who were still desperately rescuing horses. He bounded up the stone steps in two strides, then used his booted foot to kick open the blazing wooden door. For a moment he couldn't see her amid the smoke and smoldering thatch that was raining down in clumps of sparks. Then he saw her small figure, huddled on the floor, and his heart turned over in his breast.

He swept her up in his arms, and when he found she weighed no more than thistledown, the lump in his throat threatened to choke him. He carried his precious burden through the bailey and into the castle. Only when he set her limp body down in the hall did he see her burned hands.