Wild Hearts (35 page)

"Oh, Tabby, it is so unfair. Paris gave his permission for Venetia to marry, but when Robert asked for me, Paris snarled at him and said he forbade the marriage. Everybody is a bride but me," she pouted. "Next thing you know, Shannon will have accepted Lord Logan just to beat me to the altar. It is all your fault, really, so you are the one who should put it right."

"My fault?" asked Tabrizia, at a loss.

"Your running away from Paris put him in a black temper. No one could approach him. You will make him sweet-tempered again. All you have-to do is wait until he's being particularly tender with you and then tell him he should let me get married."

"Is that all?" asked Tabrizia faintly.

Damascus smiled happily again. "You must have him eating out of your hand by now. A really good time will be after he's been away from you for two days— he'll be able to refuse you nothing!"

Alexander came up to her and swung her into the air. "It is so wonderful to have you back. Perhaps Paris will be fit to live with again. Oh, Tab, while he was away I had the most marvelous time in Edinburgh. I took a tour of the university. That's what I want to do, Tab. I've decided to go to the university. My only problem is Paris, and, of course, you can persuade him for me!"

"Alexander, your timing is impossible. I know it is very important to you, but we will have to talk about it some other time."

He looked hurt. "But he's besotted with you. He will refuse you nothing."

"That's the second time today I've heard those words. Sometimes I don't think we are talking about the same man! It is your brother Paris we're discussing, isn't it?"

"Tabby, he's so far gone in love. He eats you with his eyes."

Tabrizia sat up late talking with Alexandria. She was on the point of confiding how Paris had forced her in the chapel and how things were between them when she reconsidered and decided to say nothing. She remembered how often Alexandria had gotten her into scrapes in the past and, though she loved her dearly, decided against telling her anything. It was only partly because Paris had forbidden her; her own pride did not want them to know that Paris did not love her.

That night she pulled the curtains all the way around Paris's great bed and snuggled down in the luxurious privacy. She must make the best of things. After all ,she was Lady Cockburn. Her position gave her the right to a good life. She would not live in his shadow, forever cowering when he so much as looked at her. He had been right when he pointed out that he had never struck her, and if his tongue was cruel, then be damned to him, he would get as good as he gave.

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."