Tempted (19 page)

Ramsay was blackened by hatred. His hair and eyes were midnight black, his doublet also black, relieved only by the cream ruffle of his silk shirt at neck and wrist. A devil consumed him at this moment. He had seen her faint. Did
she dare come to him with another man’s bairn in her belly? If she was carrying Hamilton’s by-blow, he would kill him—aye, and then he’d kill her. He’d snap that beautiful, fragile neck with his bare hands.

A curl of fear spiraled in Tina’s belly. If he ever unleashed that savage temper upon her, there would be none to save her from the dark Scot.

He knew she was far too beautiful to be good, but if she had come to him pregnant, he would destroy her and take pleasure in the act. He tore his dark eyes from her and looked out at the sea of Douglas faces. Admiration and desire were writ plain in every male face. The vixen had seduced the lot of them with the shrug of a shapely shoulder. Her allure was devastating. He was too proud and stiff-necked to let them see that she might have tricked him. Suddenly he clasped her wrist and held her hand on high. He picked up the crystal wine goblet filled with ruby liquid and said the words that would bind them in the hand-fasting.

The traditional period was for one year At that time they would wed, or they would part if either of them wished to end the union.

Valentina picked up her goblet and repeated the pledge They drained the glasses, then hurled them into the fireplace, shattering the crystal into a million fragments. The crowd went wild. Ram’s hands were ungentle upon her as he bent her back forcefully to submit to his kiss.

She knew the kiss was not for her but for the clan gathered before them, to show his mastery of her. It took every last ounce of Tina’s determination, but she started out as she meant to carry on. She yielded to him, submitting her soft mouth, her body, and her will to his. He stared down at the warm creature in his arms, all soft womanly submission, and raged inside

At table, none of the food seemed to appeal to Tina. With a bellyful of wine on her empty stomach, her blood was up and she was almost ready for him, but she noticed
that he himself ate little and drank much, and she feared that drunk neither he nor she would have any control whatsoever.

When half a dozen dark-visaged Douglases started to banter with Ram, he arose and went down the long hall with them, laughing for the first time that day. Tina felt abandoned and glanced about her for support, but everyone seemed to take their cue from Ramsay to stretch their legs. She spied Duncan, but the moment she spoke to him, she could see that he had drunk so much, he was unsteady on his feet. “Where’s Davie?” she asked hopefully.

“Fuckin’ his way through the Douglas maids,” Duncan said, grinning like a heathen.

She recoiled from him. What made men so coarse? They were like animals, every last one of them!

“Come, lass—the villagers outside ha’ been linin’ up fer hours fer just a glimpse o’ ye.” To her amazement, it was Archibald Douglas who was offering her his arm. No man in Scotland had a worse reputation than the Earl of Angus. He was known to be ruthless and power-mad. It was rumored that every man in Scotland feared him, even the king.

Tina reckoned that he must have a hard head for liquor since he had consumed whisky steadily for most of the day but seemed to have himself well in hand. She was secretly amused to discover that Archibald had allied himself to her. She knew that Janet Kennedy had been his mistress, and she thought perhaps the family resemblance had taken his fancy. Whatever it was, she would seize this opportunity to parade on his arm. If the Douglas Clan saw that she had their chief’s approbation, they would accord her respect, perhaps even fawn upon her. His influence was
all-powerful
, and Tina had decided that power was no bad thing to have.

They walked together for an hour, during which time Tina charmed him with her prettiest behavior. She was gracious to all, be they prince or peasant, and Angus approved
of the way she acknowledged the adulation she received. She hung on his every word, realizing she would never find a better tutor, for he knew more about the affairs of the country in general and of the Douglases in particular than any man alive.

After he had introduced her to yet another Lord Douglas, she laughingly protested, “My lord, enough, I cannot tell one from another. I was always told Scotland had more sheep than any other commodity, but I’m beginning to suspect there are more Douglases than sheep.”

He grimaced. She suspected that was how he smiled. “Come wi’ me, lass. There’s summat I want tae show ye” She stood at the entrance to the weapons room and wondered if she dared trust him alone. She went in with him realizing she could never trust any Douglas.

A huge map adorned one wall, and he drew her toward it with pride. A good deal of it, from the border up to the Highlands, was shaded in dark green, which she assumed indicated forests. Angus soon corrected her ignorance. Her eyes widened as she saw that the dark green represented Douglas land. “This will give ye an idea o’ our strength an’ our power. The border counties of Teviotdale and Hawick are ours, as are the county of Angus and the braes of Angus in the Highlands. This castle is here in Lanark County, and our lands stretch from here to the coast, clear across Midlothian and East Lothian.”

“You own everything around Edinburgh for hundreds of miles,” she said, trying to keep awe from her voice.

Archibald grimaced. “Why do ye think the capital was moved frae Stirling tae Edinburgh?” Though the question was rhetorical, she gave an answer. “Because some of the land about Stirling was not controlled by Douglas.”

He winked at her quick grasp of things. “Those two laddies ye just met were Douglas of Kilspendie and Douglas of Longniddy.” His callused fingers traced another line across the map. “Douglas lands stretch from Galloway in the southwest to Mearns in the northeast. We’ve more castles
than ye’ve fingers tae count them on—Tantallon, Dunbar, and the castle of Aldbar at Brechin are all garrisoned. Here’s Castle Douglas, our pride and joy, where Loch Dee and the River Dee come together. That’s where the hearts of all Douglas lords are buried.”

“Only their hearts?” she questioned curiously.

“Sometimes that’s all that was left after a particularly bloody battle The first earl directed his heart be placed in a casket an’ buried beneath the altar in the chapel at Castle Douglas. Since then, our device has been the Bleedin’ Heart o’ Douglas It is tradition that we shed our blood fer Scotland” He grimaced again. “We have a reputation fer livin’ turbulent lives”

Valentina touched her finger to Castle Douglas on the map Then her eyes narrowed “This shouldn’t be shaded green. Your map is wrong, my lord”

He drew closer and peered where she pointed. “The other side of the River Dee in Kirkcudbright is Kennedy land,” she asserted.

“Nay, lass. That was part of the price yer father paid Ramsay.”

“Blood of God, then it’s true! My father paid him to take me!”

He responded to the anguish he heard in her voice. “Lassie, there’s no shame in that. Have ye any notion the vast sum Henry Tudor paid King Jamie tae wed Margaret?”

Suddenly her heart filled with pity for the queen. Damn men to lowest hell. Women should not be bartered like chattels!

Archibald looked down at her, cleared his throat, and said, “Ram had tae be dragged kickin’ an’ screamin’ tae this union That’s why he’s bein’ insolent an’ neglectin’ ye today. Lass, I’m countin’ on ye tae bring him tae heel. Since he’s derelict in his duties, I’m filling in fer yer husband.”

“He’s not my husband,” she said quickly.

“That’s soon remedied. He needs legitimate heirs, strong Douglas sons tae inherit all this.” He waved his hand at the map. “I doubt ye’ll ever tame him, but that’s the measure o’ his mettle. He has it in him tae be great. He has leadership qualities that are lacking in ma ain heir. Ram’s sons, with a Firebrand like ye for their dam, will provide the strength Scotland needs for the future.”

She wanted to protest, “I’m not a damned brood mare!” But she wisely held her tongue.

“He’s sown enough wild oats. Oh, I’ve no objection tae him scatterin’ a few bastards aboot. After all, we’ve the best blood in Scotland, an’ most of the clans could do wi’ a drop. Yer no’ the sort o’ woman who would cavil at that, are ye?”

Actually, she was stunned at the frank picture he painted. She shrugged an indifferent shoulder and said faintly, “No, let him scatter away.”

“That’s a wise lass. I’ve no doubt his neglect will end once yer inside the bedcurtains. When he’s had a taste o’ ye, I hope ye make it yer business to spoil his desire fer other women.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. God Almighty—did he too think her experienced?

“Well, lass, there’s no hope o’ savin’ ye from his black temper, but I’m hopin’ ye’ll match him with a temper o’ yer own.”

It was her turn to grimace. “So I shall,” she promised.

When he returned her to the hall, the shouting and arguing almost deafened her. It seemed all the Douglas men who were titled were wagering with Ramsay about how many alehouses were between here and Glasgow.

“Dungavel, Strathaven, Eaglesham, Coatbridge, Hamilton, and Kilbride,” Cameron said with great authority.

“Ye forgot the one here in the village of Douglas,” Drummond argued He was a Douglas cousin and a captain of one of their ships.

“That’s only seven,” Gavin grumbled. “Hardly worthy of a good crawl.”

Ram’s pewter eyes glittered with recklessness. “There’s ten. Ye’ve forgot Stonehouse and Blackwood. Christ, I’ve done it often enough, I should know.”

“Stonehouse and Blackwood are brothels, not alehouses,” Greysteel Douglas pointed out.

“Are ye complaining, man?”

“No, no. I’m up tae it, if ye are.”

“Now yer bragging.” Ram laughed. “Come on, lads— let’s drink our way tae Glasgow!”

When Lady Valentina withdrew from the hall to the sanctity of her own chamber, it caused no comment. All Douglas females with a shred of decency removed themselves from the men once darkness fell. The Boozer padded up the stairs after her and followed her down the hall. He paused at the door to Ramsay’s chambers, and when Tina swept past, he protested with a deep bark. She said, “You might wish to sleep with him, but I do not.”

The wolfhound heaved what sounded like a reluctant sigh and slowly followed her. She opened the chamber door to find Ada and Nell awaiting her. The Boozer raised his hackles and refused to enter. Tina recalled that he had done exactly the same thing before.

Nell shrieked with terror as she glimpsed the tall, shaggy creature, but Tina said calmly, “He won’t come in. The chamber is haunted.”

Nell’s eyes rolled back in her head. Ada laughed. “Come on, lass. Off to bed with you.” She opened the door to the small adjoining room and said, “You can sleep in my room tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough to go to the servants’ quarters.”

When they were alone, Ada looked at Tina anxiously as she unfastened her pearl-rimmed ruff. As she moved toward her to help her with the cream satin gown she said, “Well, under the circumstances, I think you held up remarkably.”

Tina’s chin went up defiantly. “I shan’t cry, if that’s what you’re expecting. The swine will never make me shed one tear.”

“Good! The last Kennedy to occupy this chamber likely did enough crying for both of you, and it availed her nothing.”

“Nay!” protested Damaris. “Alex Douglas and I loved and laughed. I shed no tears until that last fateful day.” If her own husband had ever treated her as Ram had treated Valentina, she would have been distraught. Her wedding day—and night—had been the happiest of her life.

Ada picked up the white silk nightrail sewn especially for this night. “I’ll put this away for now … perhaps tomorrow night.”

“Perhaps not!” Tina said decisively.

Ada was in agreement with her. “Always make him wait for sex. I once made a man wait until we were both undressed!”

“Oh, Ada,” Tina said, dissolving into laughter. “Whatever would I do without you?”

“That’s better. Salt tears never grew a rose. Good night, love. Tomorrow, if I know you, you will take this damned castle by storm.”

As Tina gazed from the high window with unseeing eyes, she whispered, “I refuse to cry.” The tears however, that had gathered in her golden eyes slid down her cheeks and dropped upon her heart.

Tina finally managed to fall into an exhausted sleep, but she awoke about four in the morning. She thought about her situation for a full hour, during which her resolve hardened to marble. So the Douglases thought they were blood-proud, did they? She’d show them pride of blood! If Black Ram Douglas thought to intimidate her, he was in for a rude awakening. She’d not only take him on—she’d take on the whole scurvy clan!

She chose an elegant black silk gown, swept her hair up into a chignon, and opened the door. The Boozer groaned before he turned over and went back to sleep. She stepped over him and descended to the kitchens.

She expected fireworks from that quarter when Mr. Burque began to stake out his territory. She decided to enter the fray and assert her authority from day one. But instead of the chaos and curses she had expected, she found that Mr. Burque was in supreme control. All the Douglas cooks were female, and the Frenchman’s facile flattery had them in the palm of his hand.

He pointed out to them that the kitchens should be kept immaculate. The place crawled with lazy scullery maids and potboys who should be set to scouring immediately. Only when the floors, the tables, and the last utensil were spotless should they exercise their profession—which, as any good chef knew, was more an art than a craft.

Tina took him aside. “Well done, Mr. Burque. We may as well start out as we mean to carry on. Yesterday I not only found the food inedible, the sight of it and the greasy smell of it would have made a goat retch. The castle’s
inhabitants may eat pig-swill for all I care, but Lord Douglas and I will eat nothing that is not prepared by you.”

“Y a rien là,”
he said, assuring her there would be no problems.

She glanced at the women, who couldn’t take their eyes off him and laughed,
“Chanteur de pommel”

At this early hour Colin was the only one about. He cast her such a sympathetic look, she laughed.

“My lady, I must apologize fer Ram’s behavior yesterday.”

“I’m afraid he’ll have to do that himself,” she said wryly. “However, I’m happy to see I have one ally in the Douglas camp. I shall need your help.”

He bowed. “How may I serve ye?”

“Tell whoever is in charge of the moss-troopers that I shall see him in the hall in quarter of an hour.” Before he could ask the reason for such an odd request, she had swept past him on her way to the servants’ quarters. She informed the bleary-eyed steward, one William Douglas, that she would have a list of jobs for his underlings if he would attend her in the hall in quarter of an hour. In the meantime he could start by opening all the windows.

Tina was relieved when she saw Ram’s second-in-command walk into the hall. Men-at-arms, when off duty, were idle, uncouth, loud-mouthed louts, and she had wondered if he would attend her. She took a deep breath. He was another damned Douglas, judging by his tall, dark visage, but he was still a man, and she would engage him by fair means or foul.

She gave him her most brilliant smile, noting that he was a little on the pale side this morning. She deliberately allowed her eyes to travel across the great breadth of his shoulders and said, “Please sit. If you tower above me, I shall strain my neck.”

“My lady,” he said warily. Christ—she was the sort of woman who made a man aware he was male.

“Most men-at-arms are uncouth louts, but I am told
Douglas moss-troopers are a breed apart. They are reputed to have more pride and self-discipline than those of other clans. Tell me, are any of your men able to even stand this morning?”

His mouth quirked a little. “Half a dozen hard-bitten veterans, and a couple of the younger men.”

“Choose three or four of your best—men like yourself, with ramrod straight backs. I want them bathed and shaved and in the saddle in half an hour. I want you to escort Lord Douglas home.”

“Where is he, lady?” he asked blankly.

“You’ll find him in an alehouse or a brothel somewhere between here and Glasgow,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the aid and support of his best men this morning.” She gave him a conspiratorial wink and left him so she could speak with the steward. Christ, if she’d been his woman, he’d still have her abed between his thighs this morning!

It was now the steward’s turn to bask in the warmth of her smile. “This castle has such lovely furnishings, it seems a pity the servants have neglected them so shamefully. I don’t blame you, of course, William. Any castle with a predominance of men is bound to take on a rakish, unkempt look. With you directing the servants for me, we’ll soon rectify the matter.” Another shameless smile was followed by lashes sweeping her cheeks. When she raised them, her golden eyes took away his very breath.

“I want all the rushes removed from the lower floors and the flagstones scrubbed. My woman will give you woodruff to mix with the new rushes. I want all the furniture polished with beeswax and lavender. If you don’t have any, you had better get someone on his way to Doon immediately. While he’s there, he can bring some decent candles until Douglas learns to make its own. We can’t have these disgusting smelly tallow things dripping their grease on everything. I want all the windows washed, and you can send
a couple of maids out to gather flowers. We’ll leave the carpet beating and tapestry cleaning for another day.”

He stole a glance at the sand in the hourglass. Hell’s teeth, it wasn’t much past six. The Douglas servants were still snoring their heads off after yesterday’s debauch.

When Hotspur’s moss-troopers discovered him under an alehouse table and roused him, he thought a battle-ax had been embedded in his skull. He opened one eye. “Where am I, Jock?”

“Ye made it as far as Hamilton,” Jock replied with admiration.

Ram groaned. “Oh, Christ. I remember now,” he said, feeling the swollen duck egg on his pate where a belligerent Hamilton had crowned him with a stool. The taproom was littered with the wounded, lying amidst smashed furnishings. Ram stood up slowly and said, “Look tae Gavin and Drummond.” The landlord hovered in a dilemma. His alehouse was in Hamilton territory, yet he had a healthy fear of alienating Douglas. He nodded with relief when Ram said, “I’ll pay all damages if ye forget ye ever saw us last night.”

Ram went outside and submerged his head in the horse trough Drummond was on his feet, but Gavin was still out cold and the moss-troopers slung him over his saddle.

Ram swiped his arm across his brow to push his dripping hair from his eyes. “Where’s Cameron and the others?”

“They only made it as far as Shirley Blackwoods,” said Jock, glancing at the Hamilton lying in the pub yard. “What about the signed truce?”

“To lowest hell wi’ the truce,” growled Ram. Hotspur did not vault into the saddle this morning. He eyed Jock and his three moss-troopers who were smartly turned out and had the decency to flush at his own sorry state. “Thanks,” he muttered between his teeth.

“Thank yer lady. She sent me,” said Jock gravely.

“So,” he said through eyes narrowed against the bright
noon light. “Flaming Tina is ready for a fight. Well, I’m just the bastard to accommodate her.”

When he arrived back at the castle, bellowing her name, however, he was informed that Lady Kennedy had gone riding. “These woods are dangerous!” he shouted at the stableman, needing to vent his spleen

“She had a Kennedy and a Douglas groom glaring daggers at each other, and the Boozer went loping off ahead of her.”

When he entered the castle, everything was shining clean, and it had never smelled so fresh Flowers were everywhere. “Bloody meddling women!” he swore, going up to his rooms. As he bathed and changed his clothes, however, he was glad that she hadn’t seen his dissolute state.

Shaving, and sporting a cream linen shirt, greatly improved his appearance, though his mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on a shepherd’s stocking, and he knew his stomach would revolt at the sight or even smell of food.

The spirit of Alexander paced back and forth across the chamber restlessly. “Yer a bloody fool! Yer wastin’ the chance I never had! A union between Kennedy and Douglas will be the best thing that ever happened tae Scotland, and it’s certainly the best damned thing that ever happened tae ye Christ, yer so much like me, I could kick your arse! Think yer the great bloody whoremaster! Think yer such a perilous character! The truth is, yer terrified of one small woman Her beauty an’ her wild free spirit scare the shit out o’ ye, because yer afraid ye might fall in love wi’ her. Where would yer reputation be then, Hotspur? I swear, if harm comes tae another lovely Kennedy lass through the bloody black house of Douglas, I’ll hang ye by yer balls!”

As Ram ran his silver brushes through his thick black hair, his reflection reminded him of Alexander. God, how he resembled him—and if he didn’t keep a tight rein on his temper, he’d end up murdering his woman too

Before he opened his door, his mask of studied indifference
and carelessness was in place. He went in search of his steward to learn how many guests were still here. He was glad that most of them had left and was especially relieved that Angus had departed—no doubt to report to King Jamie. He saw Drummond coming downstairs, still unshaven “How’s Gavin?”

“He’ll live,” came Drummond’s terse reply

“Good, there’s work tae be done around here. When ye return tae Edinburgh tomorrow, he can go wi’ ye. There’s a cargo of tanned hides as well as the wool this time. He thinks he knows his way about a ship, but there’s still a lot ye can teach him I’ve acquired two more vessels, so we’ll need more captains in the family.”

They spent an hour going over the cargoes for Flanders, then Drummond reminded him it was time to sup.

“Ye must have a cast-iron gut,” Ram remarked “Before ye go, I want tae warn ye tae keep an eye out for unfriendly English vessels. Don’t take chances—if they get close enough ye can smell them, blow the bastards out of the water!”

Though Ram’s belly was empty, he avoided the hall knowing the smells would undo him. As he made for the front door he came face to face with Valentina, who had picked up the skirts of her sapphire riding skirt, exposing tall, black, high-heeled boots, so that she could more easily run.

Though he looked very forbidding and his wide shoulders almost loomed over her, she gave him a pretty smile. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at her, his face unreadable.

“Oh, do please forgive me, my lord,” she said breathlessly, gifting him with another dazzling smile. “It is unforgivable of me to be late. I hope you dined without me.”

“No,” he said tersely. She was smaller than he remembered, and twice as beautiful. He forced his eyes away from her heaving breasts and tiny waist.

“Oh, my lord, it was so kind of you to await me, but—”

“I seldom indulge in kindness,” he cut in bluntly. Where were her angry words, her questions regarding his whereabouts? He should have been the one apologizing, but here she was begging his pardon He weighed the sincerity of her words, suspecting hidden insolence, but found none.

Her hand went to her disheveled hair, her eyes beseeching him to overlook both her appearance and her behavior. Her gestures were so feminine and pretty, he experienced a searing desire, followed immediately by anger. He had to find fault with her. He looked pointedly at the flowers. “It didn’t take long before ye decided tae make changes.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you like them, my lord. I apologize that your chambers were not cleaned, but I didn’t dare to presume. After all, I’ve never even seen your rooms.”

“I’m relieved that ye understand that at Douglas, my word is law.” The statement was intended to goad her. Now she’d fly at him and unsheath her claws. But she just gave him another disarming smile. “If you will be patient with me, my lord, I will learn to do things your way. I give you my word I shall try to please you.”

“If ye have a curiosity about my rooms, ye’d better come and see them,” he said. The cream shirt against his dark face and throat gave him a feral look. The soft material emphasized his strong, hard features.

“Give me time to change, and I will join you,” she said gaily, lifting her skirts above her knees as she ran up the staircase.

She had thrown him slightly off balance. He had expected either blistering anger or cool hostility and received neither. She had been almost amenable. It was an act, of course. The devious little bitch must be up to something. Since she couldn’t rule him, she’d taken over and decided to rule the roost at Douglas. But she’d wasted her efforts, he decided with satisfaction. They were leaving for the borders and Castle Douglas day after tomorrow at the latest.

When she had insisted upon moving into the chamber that had once belonged to Damaris, he had assumed she’d
resist his bed like a wildcat. Now it seemed she couldn’t wait to get inside his bedchamber. Perhaps she was trying to seduce him. Well, if she had designs to spend the night with him, she was in for a letdown.

He went upstairs to await her, and as he glanced about the familiar rooms, he tried to see them through a woman’s eyes. The furniture was massive, carved from black walnut. The velvet bedhangings were deep claret, and the floor covering was woven from the natural, unbleached wool of Douglas sheep. His table and chairs were covered by Spanish leather, his walls decorated with his favorite swords, knives, daggers, and dirks. The stone fireplace in the outer room blazed cheerfully to keep out the damp. His chamber opened to the parapet walk, from which you could see the River Ayr to the west and the Pentland Hills to the east.