Wild Hearts (6 page)

He looked at her coldly. "Tabby, that is not the bed you will be sleeping in tonight. All things have to be paid for."

"But don't you see, the price is so small. He is giving me everything, and I am just giving him myself. It is the only thing I have to offer. It is the only reason I was chosen. I am willing to pay the price in return for all this," she explained.

He was astounded that anyone could be so innocent. He had expected gratitude, relief that he had come to rescue her; instead, she was begging him to let her stay!. He took her firmly by the arms. "Lass, you are too ignorant to even conceive of what it will be like." He had no intentions of being more graphic. She was like a fragile flower that could be crushed so easily. He realized he must protect her from herself as well as from others.

She fell to her knees before him. "Please, please, I beg of you not to take me. I could bear not having the pretty dresses and the big house and the servants, but the food! Do you know I've been hungry all my life?"

She had evoked such tender feelings deep within him, he felt both surprise and dismay at himself. It was a long time since he had been soft with a woman. He covered his vulnerability toward her with gruffness. "Enough, wench," he warned, pulling her to her feet.

Her eyes blazed purple. "Rogue- Cockburn, damn, you to hell! I should have known it was an omen for trouble when you fumed up at the wedding. I have only laid eyes on you three times, but those three encounters have turned out to be the unhappiest days of my life," she admitted wretchedly.

Mrs. Hall fell to her knees. "My Lord Cockburn, I didna recognize ye, sir. Please forgive the disrespect she shows Your Lordship. She-is just an ignorant lass!'

He grinned at the older woman to lessen her fear, "Can you ride, Mrs. Hall?"

"I'll ride. And willing, too. If ye left me behind, ye'd have no alternative but to silence me, since I can identify ye."

He frowned, annoyed that they thought him the villain of the piece, while Abrahams was the benefactor. "It is best she have a guardian who will be able to swear she still has her precious virginity." He looked at Tabby and mocked, "As soon as I collect your ransom, I will return you to the most generous man on earth!"

Her eyes closed for a moment as she finally realized her plight. Suddenly, she was frightened, really frightened. He was a law unto himself. Ruthless, savage, the outward layer of civilization so thin, she could see the brute male animal beneath. Mrs. Hall helped her into a woolen dress and brought a hooded cloak for each of them.

Paris studied her for a moment. She looked frightened enough to start screaming her head off once they were outside. "Give me a scarf or a stocking," he directed Mrs. Hall. "I'll have to gag you until we are out of Edinburgh," he apologized.

Tabby's eyes were like saucers, and her lower lip trembled. He murmured Iow, "Trust me, lass, I'd not harm you."

"I... I don't know how to ride," she whispered.

"You don't think I'd give you a horse to escape on, do you?" He chuckled as he gagged her with a silk scarf. He didn't use the window this time but calmly walked down the long flights of stairs as if he owned the house. All inside were well trussed and gagged, but he knew they wouldn't remain so long, once his men quit the house. He was gratified to see Venetia and her escorts riding up Castle Hill toward him. When she reached his side, he told her to wait until the guard was called before beginning her dash down the hill. Paris put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. When Troy rode up leading Paris's horse; Tabby found herself being lifted by one enormous redhead and passed up to the saddlebow of an equally enormous redhead. Fear of both the horse and the man held her paralyzed.

"Troy, I'll meet you at Dalkeith Palace. Take her. quickly." He had been confident his men would encounter no difficulties. His second-in-command, Ian Argyle, was like an extension of himself and could be trusted totally. Ian and his men quit the house at last, sheathed their swords and mounted up silently.

"We'll ride to Bothwell's Castle at Crichton. Its only eight miles off, and they'll never, catch up with us in eight miles. Being the King's High Sheriff, they won't dare enter his castle and challenge him." He grinned. "Throwing suspicion upon my friend Francis grieves me, but Bothwell boasts so damned much of his hospitality, I think you should sample it. I'll branch off before we get there." He signaled to his youngest man, Sandy. "Take this woman and her baggage to Magnus Cockburn's town house. Guard her well, for she can identify us. Tell my sister Venetia that she is to travel to the castle with her tomorrow. We cannot have her slowing us up tonight."

There was a hell of a commotion going on in the house behind them. Paris gave the signal for his men to follow him. As they galloped off through the city, he knew that soon a troop of soldiers would be summoned from Edinburgh Castle, and wondered wryly which of his friends was on guard duty tonight. Soon they had left Edinburgh behind. They mounted a steep hill, and Paris held up his hand to stop. He listened carefully. Yes, he could hear the ground thunder with hoofbeats. To the east lay the sea, to the south lay Bothwell's lands and Crichton Castle. They gained the crest of the next hill where he drew rein and waved his men on past him, thundering down into the valley. He turned right and headed for Dalkeith, which was ten miles on the other side of Edinburgh but still twenty miles from home.

Paris rode directly to Dalkeith Palace where the ivy grew thick on the walls. He rode quietly up to the postern-gate where the guard on duty was his own clansman, who let him enter without question. Troy awaited him in the bailey with his small troop. His large body obscured the small passenger clinging on behind.

Paris grinned at his brother. He felt great relief that they had pulled it off without incident. He went up to his captive to lift-her down. "She's still gagged, you great fool."

"Truth to tell, I tried to take it off, but she bit me," Troy admitted sheepishly.

Paris reached up and removed the gag from Tabby's mouth. She sagged from fatigue. Numb with cold and terror, her mind shrank from what these brutish men might do to her. "She didn't bite me," mocked Paris accusingly.

"The thing is"—Troy smiled with his explanation —"I'm such a sweet-looking lad, the lassies take advantage of me, while you look like such a cruel bastard, they are all afraid of you."

As Paris lifted her down, her breath stopped in her throat with fear. He could feel her body trembling beneath his hands and heard a half-sob escape her lips. She winced because the unaccustomed ride had made her sore. He lifted her to the saddle of his own mount, and she clutched the pommel desperately. Worn out from the wedding, she was now near exhaustion with fear, cold, and the wild night ride. He swung up behind her, knowing she would-be warmer and more secure in front of him than clinging on behind. One word to the men, "Cockburnspath!" before he left them far behind.

His horse knew its way across country almost as well by night as it did by day. There were two ranges of hills between Dalkeith and home, the Moorfoot Hills and the Lammermuirs. Sometimes the ground was uneven and strewn with boulders as they rode what seemed like mile after endless mile. Curving ever upward between hills, through woods and shallow rivers, they rode on into the night. The moon, playing games, would hide behind a cloud, turning the countryside black and sinister, then it would sail back out to touch everywhere with its silvery, mysterious light.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

He glanced down at her upturned face and gently whispered:

"And see ye not yon bonnie road that winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland where thou and I this night maun gae."

He spurred through a stand of firs at so reckless a speed, it took the Iast of her breath away. He was quoting poetry, begod! He seemed completely indifferent to her plight.

"Let me go," she begged.

"Shut up, lest I set you down and you can walk home."

"I'd walk!" she said with more spirit than she felt.

"Quiet while I maneuver the bog. It protects Cockburnspath from many an enemy. It has been known to swallow men in minutes. Now, would you really like to walk?" he offered.

"No," she whispered, and shivered against him.

He savored her helplessness and the surge of power it gave him. For the first time in months he was enjoying himself. Thin veils of gray mist began to wrap themselves about his horse's legs, and by the time they reached the seacoast, the fog was so thick, she could no longer see his face. A million diamond droplets clung to her hair and decorated her eyelashes.

Even with the double burden, he had arrived far ahead of the other men. Only Troy managed to keep up, and he clattered into the castle yard minutes after him. Paris dismounted and lifted Tabby to the ground. She took one step, staggered, and sank to her knees. He cursed under his breath and swung her up into his arms. Troy, his handsome young face alive with the excitement of the venture; impatiently brushed his damp red hair from his forehead and ran to aid his brother.

"Troy, you will have to see to my horse for me," he called as he strode across the courtyard and carried her into the castle, Although it was almost dawn, he knew the family would be eagerly awaiting his return. They were curious as monkeys and could not bear to be excluded from anything. He entered the brightly lit chamber with his burden and asked Shannon, the eldest and the one who always assumed authority over the others, "Which room did you make ready?"

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. Any prisoners previously brought to the castle had been secured in the barracks wing, where their men were housed. Shannon, hands on hips in her favorite challenging pose, tossed her magnificent mane of red curls and simply said, "None! She's a prisoner, isn't she?"

He shot her a glance that made her step back in alarm. "Christ Almighty, must I see to everything myself? I'll put her in the chamber above mine." He strode up to his own chamber, followed by the rest of the family. He shouted orders as he went. "A fire, fresh rushes, clean linen. Get the bloody servants and plenish this chamber. Alexander, fetch some wine!"

He laid her in the middle of the bed, and they gathered about to look their fill and satisfy their curiosity. Tabby looked up at the sea- of faces. Even in her dazed condition she could see they all belonged to the same family Their faces were strikingly handsome, their heads crowned with blazing hair that almost lit up the room. Fifteen-year-old Alexander, not yet a man, felt the first pull on his heartstrings, and he was instantly enraptured as he knelt to proffer her the goblet of honey wine. Tabby looked into the boy's worshipful eyes, noticed his smooth; unshaven face, and instinctively knew she had nothing to fear from this quarter, at least Tabby's eyes moved to Shannon. A flamboyant beauty with a magnificently curving body and generous full mouth to match. "How much will she bring us?" Shannon asked.

"Twenty thousand in gold," Paris said flatly.

Tabby's eyes widened in amazement, then she thought she hadn't heard him right. Either that, or this wasn't really happening, it was just a dream.

Damascus cried,. "Ha! Who would pay such a sum? She looks like something the cat dragged in." Tabby looked at Damascus when she spoke, and thought her the most delicately sculpted creature she had ever seen.

Alexandria said sweetly, "You will have to forgive Damascus— she's in shock. Up until tonight she thought she was the prettiest female in Scotland."

Tabby looked at the young girl and saw that when she smiled, the serious little face was transformed into a beauty all its own. Tabby tried to smile back at her, but one step beyond exhaustion, she could only lay back and survey the faces that surrounded her. For sixteen years she had been totally ignored by the world, then, in an explosion of destiny, she had been married and kidnapped in a single day, and had, like a fairy princess, become the heroine of an adventure that thrust her to the center of everyone's attention. She giggled before she began to laugh wildly.

Shannon flung at Paris, "Hysterical, or worse. Another madwoman is all this castle needs!"

Paris held her eyes for a moment, then admonished quietly, "She's a young lass, like yourself Shannon. Have you no compassion?"

Shannon, wise in the way of men, thought,
My God, he's soft on her,
and made no reply.

Paris moved swiftly to the bed, took the goblet from Alexander and put it to Tabby's lips. Instinctively, she shrank from him, fear springing back into her eyes.

"Drink. It's honey wine made from heather." He tipped it into her mouth, and she was forced to swallow it or choke. "Everyone out! Postpone your dissection until tomorrow. When she is rested, you can have at her, and then I hope to Christ she can give as good as she gets."

CHAPTER 3

It was almost noon when Mrs. Hall awakened her mistress. As soon as Tabby saw the comfortable, familiar face, she sat up and clung to the older woman, "Mrs. Hall, thank God. How did you get here?"

"Behind a great lout of a Borderer o' course. Woke me hours before dawn. I made sure to bring some of yer pretty dresses, so up wi' ye quickly. Ye must bathe and dress. His Lordship has sent me to fetch ye, and yon lot is dying to get another look at ye."

"Mrs. Hall, whatever are we to do?"