The Border Hostage (24 page)

“Ah, Lady Douglas. Your child was delivered safely, I trust?” Margaret could not hide her envy of Valentina's radiant beauty.

“Children, actually. I had twins, a boy and a girl. The
thought occurred to me to bring them to Hawick to be christened, so that you and Angus could act as godparents, but then I didn't want to upstage the bride,” Tina said sweetly.

As Raven dipped her knee, she saw Margaret's eyes glitter with venom and realized Valentina had just destroyed any hope she had of persuading the English queen to aid her. When they left the dais, Tina said, “When I mentioned the twins, did you see her hand go to her belly? By God, I warrant she's breeding again!”

“That would mean he has been her lover for some time?” Raven realized she was naive to be shocked.

“Margaret's been rutting with Archie since she presented the late king with an heir. Once Jamie did his duty, he never darkened her bed again.” Tina laughed. “Did you not think English ladies could be promiscuous? The royal court is like a dead mackerel on the beach—it shines and it stinks. The English court is even worse; I've attended both.”

Ramsay used the time the banquet was being served to connect with the lairds of the many branches of the Douglas clan. The Western Marches of both England and Scotland were the cockpit of the Border and home to the most predatory clans. When he was done, he tallied pledges for thousands of Douglas moss-troopers who could be put in the saddle if the English raiding of their frontier got worse.

The banquet had eight courses, and each was successively more sumptuous with richer food and sauces. Raven thought wistfully of Mr. Burque's delectable offerings. Beside her, Heath's sexual hunger increased by the minute. Valentina tapped her feet and fingers impatiently to the music and wished they would clear away the food and the trestle tables, so that the dancing could start. Heath too was impatient for the dancing, when he could legitimately take Raven in his arms before the entire company.

When the dancing did begin, Raven was taken aback.
She and Valentina were immediately separated from their men by the other guests. The male courtiers surrounded them, begging to partner them in the dance, which was rather flattering. But it was the behavior of the ladies which surprised Raven most. Margaret immediately attached herself to Ramsay Douglas, blatantly touching him and inviting him to take whatever liberties he fancied. Two ladies-in-waiting laid claim to Heath Kennedy. They hung on his every word, as well as his arms, begging him to partner them in the dance.

“Isn't it a heady feeling to make a roomful of women hate you?” Tina whispered. “These English ladies cannot resist our dark, dominant, and dangerous Borderers. They are positively panting for a look or a touch from the swaggering devils.”

“Don't you resent their wanton behavior?” Inexplicably, Raven realized that she certainly resented it.

“Nay, let them touch away … I'm the one who shares his bed.”

The bridegroom bowed before Raven and asked her to dance. She smiled her assent and received a leer from Archibald in return. The moment he drew her into his arms, she could smell the whisky fumes, and realized the drink had banished his inhibitions, if he'd ever had any to begin with.

“Raven, is yer father Sir Lancelot Carleton, one of the judges at the Border Wardens' Court?”

“Yes, the very same, my lord earl.”

“And ye are kin tae our beauteous Lady Valentina?”

“Yes. My father and Valentina's mother, Lady Elizabeth Kennedy, are cousins.” It easily explained why she was with the Douglases. Whatever would he do if she blurted out that she was not their invited guest, but a kidnap victim? Raven decided it was too preposterous to be believed.

He leered down at her and bent his head to impart a confidence. “Lizzie Kennedy hates the Douglases wi' a
passion, and Black Ram Douglas, who wed her daughter, most of all.”

Raven blinked and wondered what he expected her to say. He sounded pleased that Ramsay was hated. “I was recently in Lady Kennedy's company in Carlisle. We were guests of the Dacres,” she said, apropos to nothing whatsoever.

“Ye know the Dacres?” Archibald seemed startled.

“Very well indeed. Lord Dacre's son, Christopher, is a particular friend of mine.”

The new Earl of Angus clamped his lips together as if he had said too much, and allowed his hands to wander down Raven's back. Heath Kennedy's tall figure loomed beside them. “This is a galliard, I believe. The lady promised the dance to me.”

“Och, aye, take the lass. I'll have at yer sister.”

Heath very much doubted that Ram would trust Archie to lift his wife into the air for the galliard, but left the matter in the capable hands of his brother-in-law.

“I promised you no dance,” Raven challenged.

“Ah, but you did,” Heath insisted, enfolding her in his arms. “Dancing is part of wooing … and wooing is a mating dance.” He murmured intimately, “The male and the female move their bodies together in the same rhythm, imitating what they really want. Their long, drawn-out eye contact is a copulation look.” The music quickened to double tempo and Heath lifted her in a high arc.

Raven's jade-green petticoat and black silk stockings became visible for all to see, and suddenly she didn't care. The rapid beat of the music had entered her blood, and she wanted to be more alluring to Heath Kennedy than any other woman in the great hall. She laughed down into his warm brown eyes, and when he set her feet to the floor and pulled her close, she felt him quicken against her. At the feel of him, threads of desire ran from her navel to her woman's core, vibrating and rippling, until she became dizzy and breathless and aroused.

Raven looked up at him as he towered above her. Beneath heavy brows his dark eyes caressed her and made love to her, and promised he would soon possess her. His long black hair had lost the leather thong that tied it back, and it fell to the shoulders of his black doublet, making him the very image of a predator that had marked his prey. Raven had never felt more beautiful or more powerful in her life. When the tempo of the music changed to triple time, and Heath again lifted her high in the air, she wanted to scream from excitement.

As he held her almost upside down, her breasts threatened to spill from her bodice. When she intercepted his hot, appreciative glance, Raven winked down at him. She saw his white teeth flash in a grin and was almost overcome with the need to feel his mouth upon hers. He read her mind, and as the dance ended, he lowered her feet to the floor and lowered his lips to hers. She clung to him to keep her balance, and because it made her feel small and deliciously feminine.

The music changed dramatically to a Scottish reel, and a whoop of appreciation came from all the Douglases in attendance. There seemed to be miles of dark green plaid in the hall as partners were chosen. Raven should have welcomed the separation, but rather, she felt deprived. After the reels came “The Gay Gordons” and “Strip the Willow,” country dances that were familiar to both the English and Scots who were celebrating. Raven found herself longing for the moment when Heath would become her partner again, even though it would be only briefly. As the music accelerated, the sweat dripped and the kilts flipped. The raucous laughter and shouting grew apace with the accidental falls, interspersed with a few deliberate trips. The company grew so bawdy, it sounded like a brawl or a rape, and threatened to degenerate into one or both any minute.

Though the hour was relatively early, Ramsay and
Valentina sought the newlyweds to bid them good night. Archibald, drunk as a proverbial lord, encouraged them to stay for the bedding. Ram cocked an amused brow. “Ye've done it so often, I'm sure ye'll get it right without me.”

Raven had been thoroughly enjoying herself, and Tina saw she looked reluctant to leave. “The night is young; trust me,” she murmured low, then used the excuse of the twins to Margaret. “I brought us warm cloaks so we don't have to change our gowns for the ride back.” Tina handed one to Heath, who quickly wrapped it about Raven and led her into the bailey, where their moss-troopers awaited them with their saddled mounts.

As they rode from Hawick the fires of the Gypsy camp lit up the sky. “Are you game?” Tina asked her brother.

“Careful how ye answer her; she'll tell ye tae stick a feather up yer arse and start crowing!” Ram jested.

Heath grinned. “I'm game.”

As they galloped toward the camp they could hear the Gypsy fiddles and tambourines mixed with merry laughter, and Raven's pulse quickened with anticipation as Heath tethered Blackadder beneath an elm and turned to lift her from Sully. He slid her slowly down his hard body until her feet touched the ground. Momentarily, the world receded until there was only the two of them. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, and brushed his lips against hers. Then they clasped hands and ran toward the fire.

Raven was in a reckless mood. She had made up her mind to abandon herself to pleasure for just one night. She turned a deaf ear to the inner voice that whispered caution, for every female instinct told her that if she did not seize this moment, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

She was surprised at the easy camaraderie that Tina, Ram, and Heath had with the Gypsies, then realized that they must be familiar with each other. She watched Ram exchange coins for two wineskins and hand one to Heath, who immediately squeezed an arc of wine into the air and
caught it in his mouth. Heath's glance moved from hers down to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. “I don't suppose I could tempt you?”

Tonight everything about the dark Borderer tempted Raven. She flashed him a smile, unable to resist his challenge, and opened her mouth. She did a credible job of catching the stream of wine, but then she began to laugh and sprayed it everywhere. “No more,” she said, gasping. “We'll ruin Tina's lovely gown.”

“I'll show you how to drink without spilling a drop,” Heath offered as he squeezed the wineskin and filled his mouth. His arm shot out and drew her close, then he set his mouth to hers and fed her the wine.

Raven licked her lips. “I believe it's more potent that way.”

His heart soared at the seductive quality he detected in her voice. Was it possible that desire was awakening deep inside her? He slipped his arm about her and hugged her to his side, then he drew her toward the music. Heath felt his hot blood throb and pulse wildly in his throat. Then the rhythmic beat of the music seemed to enter his bloodstream and his cock lengthened and hardened as he became fully aroused. Heath curbed some of his sexual hunger, knowing that if he let it rage out of control, he would be in an agony of need.

Heath's dark beauty was so magnetic and compelling it drew Raven like a lodestone. Tonight his maleness was blatant, primal. His unleashed energy was tangible as he dominated the space around them. As well as the heat from the fire, Raven imagined she could feel the heat from his body and smell his male-scented skin, which was acting like an aphrodisiac upon her. She licked her lips with a provocative tongue and began to slowly undulate to the music. She let the cloak slide from her shoulders as she moved her hips to the dark, erotic rhythm of the Gypsy music.

Heath followed her movements in the dance, and she
suddenly realized he had been speaking the truth when he said that the male and female move their bodies in the same rhythm, imitating what they really want. Her movements became sensual, as did his, then as the tempo of the music quickened, they became overtly sexual. It was a mating dance in every sense of the word, teasing and taunting, advancing and retreating, inviting and withdrawing. Luring on, then moving away, yet gradually they drew closer and closer until they were almost touching, as their bodies swayed and swelled and yearned for each other. The male must dominate, the female must submit; it was the law of nature.

From the corner of her eye, Raven saw Ramsay and Valentina withdraw from the circle of dancers toward the meadow that was carpeted with wild hyacinths. Her heart skipped a beat, knowing it was too romantic for them to resist, but she knew she must not be lured into following their example. She danced away from Heath, moving around the fire. When he followed, she danced away before he could draw close. Suddenly all eyes were upon them, and the other dancers began to clap and stamp their feet in rhythm to the music. As the tempo accelerated, going faster and faster, rising in a crescendo, Heath leaped across the flames and caught her before she could retreat. Cheers and applause erupted from the Gypsy dancers as he took her in his arms and bent her backward in a triumphant kiss. Then, playing to his audience, he took a bow. Raven decided she too could play-act and deliberately turned her back upon him. She immediately realized it was a tactical mistake when two Gypsy girls rushed to take her place as Heath's partner.

Raven watched him dance with both, leaping back and forth between them, across the fire, and when the music came to a climax, it was they who kissed him, in blatant invitation. It was a game Raven decided to win. With hands on hips she sauntered up to the females, pushed them aside, and claimed her prize. A great shout of approval
rose up from the Gypsy men, and they laid claim to their females by dragging them from Heath's side.

Raven laughed up at him. “You've done this before.”

“Many times,” he admitted, “but never with a prize like you at stake, my beauty.”

His words made her feel special, yet it was brought home to her that Heath had probably made love to some of these females. She envied them their freedom to take a man they desired, for in her world such a thing was highly immoral. For the first time, Raven became aware of just how tempting the forbidden really was, as she admitted to herself that she longed to know what it would be like to have Heath Kennedy make love to her and teach her about passion.

When Valentina and Ramsay returned, the Gypsy men pressed Heath and Ram to join them in a knife-throwing contest, but both laughingly declined, pleading the lateness of the hour. With reluctance the two couples bade their hosts good night and made their way to where their mounts were tethered. The moss-troopers had been fed and entertained by Gypsy girls, and before they departed, Ram paid them for their hospitality with gold. He addressed his moss-troopers quietly, directing two of them to stay in Hawick to report on Archibald Douglas's activities, and ordering two more to Bewcastle to keep an eye on Thomas Dacre. Then he mounted and took Tina before him in the saddle, secure in the knowledge that his moss-troopers would tend her horse.