Tempted (15 page)

Riders were dispatched with invitations that day—no mean feat to ensure none were offended by being overlooked. Elizabeth had to rely upon Rob to provide the guest list. The Gordons were high on the list, insufferable as they were with the Earl of Huntly calling himself the Cock o’ the North. Then there were about eight other earls —Erroll, Montrose and their clans, and so on, and so on.

Their own clan was so widespread that over twenty invitations were dispatched, and when Elizabeth listed the Douglases, she was quite vexed that there were so many of the disreputable devils, stretching from Tantallon and Dunbar through Galloway, Mearns, and up to Kilspendie and Longniddy.

Invitations must not be extended to any of the clans who were out of favor with the king or with Argyll, namely MacDonald, McLean, and Cameron.

Every female at Doon was expert with a needle, and Ada designed, cut, and supervised Beth’s new wardrobe, a new gown for Elizabeth, and the sisters’ bridesmaidens’ dresses. On the ride to Glasgow with Meggie Campbell, Ada and Tina had learned that the shy girl favored blue. So even though Tina thought there was nothing so insipid as blondes in powder blue, she shrugged a shapely shoulder and agreed, knowing her copper hair looked ravishing against blue of any shade.

Although Valentina hated to ply a needle, she did so now because Ada had no time to spare. She would have to take clothes that were not new, but at least no one at court had seen them before, and she lowered the necklines on the ones she decided to take. She would need enough clothes for a few days’ stay and her most stunning riding dress in which to arrive.

As she surveyed the contents of her wardrobe, selecting and discarding various gowns, her hand fell upon an unusual creation she had never worn. She loved the varied colors of the sheer material, which were a mixture of orange, amber, and tawny, all over an underskirt of black, which showed through the paler colors, making it resemble the skin of a wild animal. On impulse she packed it with her other gowns.

In the kitchen Mr. Burque was busy mixing currants, raisins, and candied fruit with just the correct amount of liquor for the wedding cakes. He was to travel to Stirling with the family to assemble and decorate the cakes and to create other confections for the banquet.

Rob Kennedy had made a special trip to get the rare spices and nuts Mr. Burque had demanded from one of his ships that had just anchored at Ayr. Rob had been able to get sacks of almonds for the almond paste, or marzipan as the Frenchie called it, and he had obtained cinnamon and nutmeg for the custards, but he could not remember for the life of him the other spices the chef had requested. Rob found Tina perched upon Mr. Burque’s worktable, one of her favorite spots whenever his kitchens were filled with heavenly aromas that would tempt the devil himself.

As Rob set down the supplies he named them. “Almonds.”

Mr. Burque nodded, “Marzipan,
oui, oui”

“Cinnamon.”

“Merci, Oui, oui”

“Nutmegs.”

“Oui, oui, très bien!”

“I could no’ get the other stuff—what was it?” Rob muttered.

“Merde!”

“That’s it—the ships didna fetch merde,” lied Rob.

Tina covered her mouth quickly before she laughed in her father’s face. Shit-flavored wedding confections would be quite a novelty!

“Non, non
—how you say ginger?”

“Ginger!” Rob said, remembering now.

“Oui, oui!”
cried Mr. Burque.

“Wee wee? A real mon calls it piss,” Rob said in disgust.

Valentina and Mr. Burque caught each other’s eye and went off into peals of laughter. Rob Kennedy escaped, knowing he was out of his depth in the domestic environment. “Prancin’ ninny!” he muttered.

Lady Valentina elected to ride with her brothers the forty-odd miles to Stirling. She felt a pang of pity for Ada, who had to ride with her mother, Beth, and Kirsty in the monstrous, uncomfortable carriage. All Rob Kennedy’s retainers kept the slower pace with their lord and his wife and suffered the hard edge of his tongue with every mile.

Tina had refused point-blank to take two days and convinced her father she would be perfectly safe with Donal’s men at their back. Duncan and Davie ragged Donal mercilessly about the shackles and fetters of marriage, but he took it all philosophically, knowing in his very bones that marriage, especially with his sweet lass, was right for him.

Tina tended to agree with her younger brothers on the subject of marriage but refrained from teasing, knowing it would be her turn only too soon. On the ride they passed lonely peel towers, ideal places where reivers could dwell, but the law stated that lairds were to construct these towers for defense purposes every few miles. Tina caught her breath at the vistas. They passed a burn that had come down for thousands of years, slashing open a fearsome wooded ravine. The fiercely rushing waters had battered
and gouged their way, forging pinnacles and jagged rock facings. The hills were covered by pine and larch and fir. They rode through glens, past fan-shaped waterfalls and quiet ponds, where the fish lurked beneath hazel bushes before they darted upstream to feed.

They scattered hen and cock chaffinches and blackbirds and small furry creatures that disappeared down their burrows before they could even be identified. A loch’s surface rippled like watered silk, and inside Tina a slow, delicious excitement stirred because she was engaged in an adventure that might afford her opportunities of disobedience and misbehavior.

The town of Stirling was on the River Forth with the purple ramparts of the Highlands just beyond the steeply winding, narrow streets. The sun was setting as they reached Stirling Castle, a hilltop citadel on various levels with towers, bartizans, and parapet walks. Grassy ledges and terraces with steps cut for access were utilized for gardens. Halfway down the northeastern flank was a plain consisting of a few acres where cows grazed peacefully.

They rode around the back of the fortress, past the bowling green and the quoiting pitch, to the barracks and stables. Valentina spoke to a royal groom explaining that her mare, Indigo, was valuable and must be kept safe from stud stallions. She laughed to herself later as she realized how shocked her mother would have been if she’d overheard.

The queen and her court were already in residence and planning festivities for every evening they would spend at the Highland castle, which was far more conducive to pleasure than the brooding castle at Edinburgh. There would be a couple of days for fun and games, then on the third day the marriage would be solemnized, and before everyone departed at week’s end, the queen had planned a lavish costume ball.

It was highly entertaining just watching the guests arrive. Tina was surprised that a wedding was such a potent draw
She had never seen so many tartans, mottos, and badges displayed in her life. She knew the Scots were wickedly proud, but she began to wonder if Ada wasn’t right when she said that although they had a dour facade, they were romantics and sentimentalists to a man.

Before the rest of her family arrived, Tina had acquired some brown-gray Lazarus beads to conjure the Devil. The queen and her ladies thought it amusing and fashionable to practice magic. When her sister and her female Kennedy cousins arrived, Lady Valentina held her own court, which also included the bride and the many Campbell females who were quite countrified and thought Tina the height of fashion and sophistication. She was thoroughly enjoying herself among the vast company, showing off her rustling taffetas, pointed stomachers, and ruffs rimmed with pearls.

She got more than her share of electric glances from the lusty men. She adored the temptation to recklessness, but she had more good sense than to return their intimate glances of silent invitation. Yet she saw many a coy look from ambitious girls. She laughed with her cousins and said clever things about men: “He has neither rank nor virility, two necessary qualities in a man.” But when she saw Colin Douglas limp into the hall with Black Ram Douglas’s brothers at his side, her soft heart went out to him. On impulse, she crossed the large chamber and sketched him a curtsy. “Colin, welcome to our wedding.”

His eyes were friendly and amused. “It is my pleasure, Lady Kennedy.”

“I cannot call you Colin unless you call me Tina,” she pointed out.

Gavin and Cameron Douglas grinned cheekily and elbowed Colin aside. Gavin kissed her hand gallantly and murmured, “Ye are even more beautiful than last time we met, Tina.”

She arched her brows coolly at his use of her name. “Colin Douglas was kind to me in a trying situation, but
that doesn’t mean I embrace any other Douglas!” She swept off with an aloof shrug of her shoulder.

“Yer no’ but dirt beneath her feet,” Cameron needled.

“Christ, I’d like tae be beneath her skirt,” Gavin said. “I’ll never know why Ram hates the sight o’ her—she has enough allure tae stiffen a corpse.”

Ramsay Douglas did not think he would be bothered to ride to Stirling to the Campbell-Kennedy wedding. After he made his full reports to the king, he thought it expedient to return to the borders since they were in sore need of patrolling. But when the king and Angus took it for granted he and his men would escort them to Stirling, he capitulated without demur.

James Stewart and Archibald Douglas each waited for the other to bring up the subject of marriage to Ramsay. When Angus realized the king expected him to do the dirty work, he put it off until he had enjoyed the festivities at Stirling. He was damned if he was going to light the fuse of Hotspur’s explosive temper quite yet.

The day was bright with sunshine, a rarity for the Highlands, which so often had a somber, brooding quality. Everyone young and not-so-young was outdoors crowding around the archery butts, quoiting pitch, bowling green, or the menagerie of bears. But all the youngest guests who were daring enough were gathered atop the northeastern flank, where a long, grassy slope led down to the plain. A raucous game of hurly-hackit was in full spate, a grass-sledging activity on the skulls of oxen, using the upcurled horns to steer.

Naturally Tina was the first female to challenge the hill. She raced both of her brothers, easily beating Duncan because her light weight made her sledge fly over the grass. Davie was too sly and cunning, however. He deliberately cut in front of her, causing her to swerve off and lose the race. This only spurred her on, of course, and by stooping
to his tactics, she beat him at his own game. She thought she’d never laughed so much in her entire life.

Gavin Douglas joined in the fun, giving the other men a run for their money. There was a streak of recklessness in Douglas men. Gavin shot down the slope so heedlessly that he came a cropper before he reached the bottom. His great body flew over the oxen horns, and he lay sprawled directly in Tina’s path. She screamed as her skull collided with Gavin’s and she was flung directly on top of him. They stared into each other’s faces for one horrified moment, then went off into peals of laughter at the undignified spectacle they were creating with their arms and legs entangled.

Ramsay Douglas had been watching the silly game for some time through jaded eyes that were drawn again and again to the streaming copper tresses of the Kennedy wench. She was truly a wanton, heedless of her grass-stained skirts flying in the air, making herself the center of attention. His jaw tightened as he watched her collide into Gavin, the pair of them laughing like lunatics.

As Tina and Gavin helped each other to their feet, she caught sight of his oxen skull and went off on another trill of laughter. “You ugly brute! Your great weight has crushed your damned skull!”

He felt his head in mock alarm, and Tina laughed up at him. “I suspect your brains are in a much lower place.”

He grinned and rubbed his buttocks. Suddenly they sobered as they looked into the dark face of Black Ram Douglas, who was in no way amused. They were able to keep straight faces for a count of perhaps five or six seconds, then they both went off again into paroxysms of laughter, far too giddy to maintain a semblance of decorum.

“Ye’ve not the smallest shred of sobriety.” His hard voice relegated her to the ranks of foolish, shallow women who cannot be held responsible for their stupidity. He was so tall and broad-shouldered, he blocked most of the sun.

“You are so old and dried up, you’ve forgotten what
innocent fun is. Have a care your face doesn’t freeze with pious disapproval.”

Violent, angry energy flamed between them like sheet lightning. In that instant it was apparent why he was called Hotspur and she Firebrand.

Even though the chapel royal at Stirling was massive by church standards, there certainly was not enough room for all the members of all the clans who had gathered. Bishop Kennedy had come down from St. Andrews to officiate at this wedding, and the front of the church overflowed with the red-haired clan.

Archibald Cassillis, the Kennedy earl, looked about the church at all his people. He knew it would not be long before Rob Kennedy’s lasses exchanged their vows. Ram Douglas and Arran’s heir were spectacular matches for his nieces, yet he hadn’t broached the subject to Rob because instinctively he knew Elizabeth would object to allowing her baby to go to Douglas. He agreed the poisoning years ago had been a bad business, but the damned woman must learn to forgive and forget. He’d had his orders from the king, and the Kennedys of Doon would have their orders from him, but he’d wait until they were back home before he issued them.

A pale Meggan Campbell walked down the aisle overshadowed by her powerful father, trying to swallow the lump in her throat as she wished her mother, long dead, could have been with her, or at least her elder sister Elizabeth
She shuddered. That was impossible, of course, for Elizabeth was wed to the traitor Lachlan MacLean and she would likely never see her again. Meggan’s eyes caught sight of the back of Donal Kennedy standing so stiffly by the altar, and suddenly she was no longer afraid. Unlike the savagely cruel MacLean, Donal really loved her. In a world where women never got to choose their own fate, Meggie Campbell felt truly blessed.

The nuptials were being solemnized just before the hour of noon so the couple could receive the Holy Sacrament. Megan had the requisite six bridesmaids, all Campbell cousins except for Tina and Beth. Their dresses were a much paler shade of blue than those of the Kennedy sisters, but all blended together well enough.

The small bride had the lovely Blackwatch tartan of the Campbells draped across one shoulder, and she listened solemnly to the words of Bishop Kennedy. He exhorted the young couple and the congregation in general in a resounding sermon denouncing sinful pride.

Tina glanced down the chapel royal at the sea of high-held heads and thought irreverently that if he preached from now till doomsday, he would never rid the Scots of sinful pride. The bishop then gave a blistering declamation of women’s lewdness and men’s filthy lust. He had just touched upon adultery and fornication when the king cleared his throat and gave him a black look. Without missing a beat, the bishop demanded, “Who giveth this woman tae this mon?”

Argyll’s burly figure stepped forward garbed in a silver wolf pelt. His scarred hands with missing top finger joint placed Meggie’s hand in Donal’s, then he planted his feet, declining to step back until he’d witnessed the marriage legalized.

Elizabeth Kennedy was crying openly, and Tina saw that Beth was shaking like a leaf to be exhibited before such a great throng. Silly child, thought Tina—doesn’t she realize no one is looking at her?

The wedding banquet began at two o’clock and would go on for the next twelve hours. The food was plentiful because the clans’ wealth was in sheep, cattle, and oxen and the rivers and forests surrounding Stirling teemed with fish and game.

The pièce de résistance, however, was Mr. Burque’s towering wedding cake, the likes of which none had ever seen before. The top layer was an imitation of the deep blue sea, and rising from the waves was a great dolphin, the Kennedy device, cleverly wired so that it rose up from the water in a magnificent leap.

During the first hours of the banquet, decorum reigned, but by dusk most of the men were well on their way to being drunk. The king and queen, who had sat down together, were now absorbed in other partners. James Stewart danced tirelessly with Janet Kennedy, a natural-born wanton, wholehearted, generous, and unashamed of their affair.

Queen Margaret had hot eyes and hands for the Master of Douglas, that ambitious young man who had been taught by his father, the Earl of Angus, that power was the only thing that mattered.

The rest of the Douglases had spurned the wedding in favor of hunting. Colin showed to advantage in the saddle, while the dance floor was a nightmare for him. Ram hated the very atmosphere of weddings. They gave him a trapped, caged feeling he found difficult to dispel. Gavin and Cameron vied with their cousins Ian, Drummond, and Jamie to bag the most game. The stags were only just losing their velvet and coming into season. All knew that at day’s end when they returned from their sport, there would still be plenty of roast bullock and ale to wash it down with, a bedding for their entertainment, and a castle filled with amenable young wives whose husbands would be unconscious or at least incapable with drink.

Valentina had so many men clamoring to partner her that she quite neglected Patrick Hamilton. She did it on
purpose, to punish him for not showing up earlier in the week. He found that in order to dance with her at all, he had to cut in on an arrogant Gordon or a wild Stewart, most of whom were jumped-up whelps or by-blows in spite of their royal blood.

For miles outside Stirling, the crowds surrounded crackling bonfires and indulged in fighting, screaming, singing, and finally mass lovemaking, all to the accompaniment of skirling bagpipes.

Inside, the behavior of the celebrants was in danger of degenerating from bawdy to profligate. The matrons retired in disgust at the men’s inherent coarseness, removing their youngest daughters from the danger. At this point the banquet turned into a bacchanalia The lewd songs became grossly indecent and were accompanied by graphic gestures. Serving wenches now sat upon men’s knees with their skirts pulled above plump thighs. The racket was deafening as silver goblets and sword-hilts were banged upon the tables to a rhythmic demand that the bride and groom “kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Donal obliged the crowd, while his little bride grew visibly more nervous. Archibald Campbell drained a silver drinking cup, hurled it down the table, then picked up another. Archibald Douglas, drunk as a lord, bellowed intimate appraisal of every female in sight.

Valentina stayed for only one reason: She feared for her little sister-in-law, Meggie Campbell, now Meggie Kennedy, as the crowd banged their goblets and chanted, “Disrobe, disrobe, disrobe, disrobe!” She knew she must rescue the bride and spirit her away to the nuptial chamber. Tina managed to reach Meggie and take her hand, but that seemed to be the signal the revelers had been awaiting

The women, led by the queen and the Howard sisters, descended upon Donal and began to strip him, while a mob of drunken males tore Meggie from Tina’s grasp and lifted her on high, tearing at her gown and veiled coif Meggan screamed, her face a pale blur above the heads of
the men as they began their exodus to the nuptial chamber, their progress impeded by the bodies of those who had lost consciousness and lay among the vomit-fouled rushes.

Tina followed helplessly, unable to aid Meggan. It was all she could do to protect her own person as she heard her gown tear, and to slap hands away from her breasts and bottom.

The bride and groom were stripped quite naked by the time they were carried into the bedchamber, and Tina could do no more than shrink into a corner in horror as the mob pushed the groom on top of the weeping bride and chorused, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Ramsay Douglas glanced into the room with jaded eyes. They flickered over Tina Kennedy with disgust. She was in the thick of things, as usual. She was making for the door before they could strip her too. She looked up into his face with dismay. His pewter gray eyes reflected her image, but the depths were filled with contempt. He cast one last look at the women in the chamber. He had laid most of them, and there was not one he would have been bothered to lay again.

The bride was distraught. Through a bleary haze Donal saw that the fun and games had gone too far. He glanced about looking for help. His brother Duncan and Patrick Hamilton were enjoying the spectacle far too much to desist. Davie was hateful enough sober; drunk, he was almost demonic. Donal looked in vain for Meggie’s father, but Argyll had been too far gone in drink to even climb the stairs to the nuptial chamber. The women with their hands at his groin and all over his body were even worse than the men. In desperation Donal appealed to the king: “Sire, I need yer help!”

The good-natured James elbowed his way to the bedside. “Ye want me tae bairn her for ye, laddie?” Then he saw that the little bride was past hysterics and going into shock. In a brisk deep voice that brooked no refusal, he took command of the situation. The revelers staggered
from the room holding each other upright. The ones who were still bent on lewd and lascivious conduct suggested other bedchambers they could invade as the king herded them safely away from the newlyweds.

Meggie lay sobbing, her pale face pressed into the pillows. Donal in his clumsy way tried to comfort her She shrank from his rough hands, never wanting to see or hear or smell another man as long as she lived. Gradually she became aware of a tender hand stroking her hair over and over and a voice pleading, “Dinna cry, lass.”

She realized that from this day forward Donal Kennedy would be her only source of strength or tenderness or love With a sob she turned blindly toward him. Donal’s arm encircled Meggie’s waist, her hand stole into his and held it tightly, and her head folded into his shoulder. Each fulfilled a need in the other’s life.

Since Ram Douglas had enjoyed the hunting more than anything else at Stirling, he decided to go again the next day. His brothers and indeed most of the males were nursing massive hangovers this morning, so he went alone. In the royal stables he noticed that the lovely damson-colored mare he thought of as his was gone. He was mildly surprised that others besides himself were in the saddle this early

In no time at all he was swallowed by the dense forest that surrounded Stirling. His senses were alert for any sound or movement that signaled game. His ears easily picked up a bellowing roar, and as he rode toward a clearing and a steep, grassy hillside, he knew what he would find. It was a wild bull, a relic of an ancient breed that had roamed all the uplands at one time. The bull had stolen two domestic cows that grazed the lower slopes to breed wild, misbegotten offspring.

A bull hunt was a far more exhilarating and taxing sport than hunting hart or boar. Bulls were totally unpredictable
when maddened and would charge and gore anything in sight with their long, viciously curving horns.

Ram tried to drive the bull further into the trees, where he would be hard pressed to turn and charge, but the creature was far too wily to fall into such a trap. Ram watched the bull cautiously, wishing his brothers were there to aid him. His wolfhound, Boozer, would have been an invaluable help too.

The wild creature was a dirty white with a massive, thickmaned neck and a wicked six-foot spread of horn. For one split-second he questioned the wisdom of hunting it solo, but the challenge was far too tempting for Ram Douglas to ignore. The shaggy-coated creature with massive shoulders was obviously cunning as well as savage, for it ran out into the clearing, where it would have room to maneuver and charge.

Ram’s eyes scanned the perimeter of the grassy slope, noting a long outcropping of stone that formed a ledge with a steep drop beyond. His horse must avoid that danger, but the rest of the ground didn’t appear too rough a terrain.

The bull saw her before Ram did. Its red eyes rolled in its head, it pawed the ground, it let out a snort and charged downhill. Valentina Kennedy had seen Ram Douglas mounted on his great black stallion long before he emerged at the clearing’s edge. She watched in disbelief as he waved at her and shouted, “Get the hell away!”

It was almost too late when she saw the maddened bull tearing up great clods of earth in its efforts to charge her. She spurred her damson mare cruelly, knowing if she did not, the bull would tear into her mare broadside.

Ram knew there was not a split-second to lose as he rode out into its line of vision and tried to divert it from its chosen goal. It was roaring now, savagely intent upon the girl and horse. Ram’s knife was more a short-bladed sword. He screamed a Douglas war cry and headed toward the
bull’s rear quarters, hoping to crash into it and roll it over while at the same time avoiding its vicious horns

His vivid imagination saw the Barbary’s exposed underbelly being ripped like a punctured bladder if he could not divert the bull’s attention from its intended disemboweling. Indigo was screaming, eyes rolling wildly, as she shuddered with terror Ram glimpsed Tina, her face as white as her riding habit, her hat gone, her fiery hair licking across her face and neck like flames. Then he had no time for anything but his prey as the bull dug in its forelegs and pivoted about, thinking to expel its great fury upon its attacker rather than upon a creature intent upon fleeing

Ram was now face to face with a head-on charge. He could save himself by leaping from the saddle, but his stallion would be sacrificed upon the vicious, upthrusting horns. He made his decision instantly, hurling himself with a vaulting spring upon the brute’s back. He knew the reaction would be instantaneous