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Authors: Virginia Henley

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She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Do you think the king loves her?”

“He loves all women. They are his weakness.”

“No, I mean, does he truly love her?” she pressed.

“No, he doesn’t,” Ram said low. “The one and only true love of his life was Margaret Drummond. I believe they were secretly wed, then due tae pressure he agreed tae take Henry Tudor’s daughter, Margaret, uniting England and Scotland by a bond of blood so there would be peace. James married Margaret Tudor by proxy in January 1502, but when November rolled around he was still sharing his bed with Margaret Drummond, who’d given him a child by then. He hadn’t even signed the marriage treaty. Someone took it upon himself to remove Margaret Drummond, who was such an impediment tae the union between England and Scotland. Someone poisoned her. It broke James’s heart, but within a month he signed the marriage treaty at St. Mungo’s Abbey here in Glasgow, and preparations for Queen Margaret’s journey to Scotland began. It is any wonder he hates her? Every time he looks at her, he knows his beloved was sacrificed for the Tudor bitch.”

To dispel the darklings, Ram poured them wine and sat on the edge of the bed to share the loving cup with her. Tina sat up, her back against the padded silk headboard, the tendrils of her hair curled about her breasts like flames, and Ram could not help letting his fingers play among the curls until her nipples stood out like taut rosebuds. “This is indeed a luxurious chamber. Naked nymphs upon the ceiling are most conducive to lovemaking.”

Ram teased, “I prefer a mirror above the bed.”

Tina picked up a hand mirror from the bedside table
and said dreamily, “Just think of all the secrets a mirror’s depths must hold, hidden away in its crystal cave.”

“Ye are fanciful and fey tonight,” he murmured against her temple.

She put the mirror down and picked up a small lacquered box. Inside upon a black velvet cushion sat five tiny ivory spheres. “Ivory marbles from afar.”

Ram’s mouth curved with amusement. “They’re not marbles, sweetheart.”

“Then what are they?” she puzzled.

“Sexual toys.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“These are Chinese pleasure balls. Chinese culture is more civilized than ours. Their concubines are given these by their lords. When their lords are absent for many days and nights, these ivory spheres bring pleasure. They are designed to keep a woman from taking a lover. They keep her chaste.”

“How?” asked Tina, completely baffled.

He put his lips to her ear and whispered, “The wee balls go up inside ye, then ye sit upon a swing and glide back and forth until ye come.”

“Ram!” she cried, shocked. “You are making it up!”

He touched his lips to hers, then murmured wickedly, “I’ll show ye.” He picked up the black lace nightgown and put it on her, then he laid her back against the pillows, opened her thighs, and gently inserted the ivory spheres. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her down the steps that led to the walled garden. She clasped her arms about his neck and clung to his naked body, already aroused by the taboos they were breaking.

The night was all dark shades of lavender. A cuckoo called hauntingly. He sat her upon the swing and pushed her. The sensations happened at the apex of the swinging when she changed direction and glided back to Ram.

“Oh!” she cried with surprise. “Oh, oh, ohhhh.”

Immediately Ram stopped the swing and lifted her in his arms. “I cannot bear ye tae become aroused by anything but me,” he said fiercely. His mouth came down savagely upon hers, branding her as his woman, and his woman alone.

He sat down upon the swing and took her onto his lap. His hand went beneath the black lace and his finger slipped inside her to remove the ivory spheres. “Straddle me,” he commanded.

She pulled up the black lace and straddled his lap. As his marble shaft penetrated her from this unique angle, she knew she had never experienced anything so deliciously intense before. As Ram pumped his legs to set the swing in motion, the friction against her taut woman’s bud made her scream with excitement. Threads of molten, burning gold shot up through her belly into her breasts and all the way down her legs to her knees. All she could do was cling and gasp and ride upon the wind with him to paradise.

Chapter 27

The first stop Ram made along Glasgow’s Great Western Road was at the fur merchant’s shop. Valentina could not resist the lure of the soft, luxurious pelts on display. She touched dozens of different furs, each appealing more than the last. Womanlike, she twirled in front of the polished mirrors and stroked the deep pile.

Ram, however, knew exactly what he wanted. When the furrier settled the black sable cloak upon her shoulders, Tina knew she had never looked lovelier. The inside was
lined with cream satin, and both the black and the cream contrasted with her hair, turning it to red flame.

The furrier, wise in the way of men and their beautiful mistresses, brought out an emerald velvet cape with a red fox hood. There was a red fox muff to match the cape. “Oh Ram, ‘tis my favorite color!” Tina cried.

“Try it on,” he said indulgently.

She surveyed her reflection in the mirrors, then turned to him for his reaction. His pewter eyes licked over her like candle flames. “Ye look exactly like a vixen.” He nodded his assent to the furrier and told him to have the two furs sent to Garrowhill.

At the dressmaker’s Ram left all the choices up to Tina. Her gowns, whether simple or ornate, always put other women in the shade. He knew she had impeccable taste and that she knew best what suited her vivid coloring. The
modiste
had two shop assistants who helped Tina remove her gown so that they could take her measurements. As she stood before them in white lace stockings and short embroidered white shift, the women oohed and ahed at her undergarments and asked where she had acquired such exquisite creations.

Tina’s cheeks flushed. “My woman designs and sews them for me. I am lucky to have her. I need a couple of gowns for court.”

The moment the women turned their backs, Ram slipped an arm about her and drew her close. “Ye are tempting as original sin,” he murmured huskily. Tina pulled away from him, cheeks flaming, as the dressmaker returned with a gown over each arm. “I don’t care for the red, but I’ll try on the black and silver.” The bodice was low-cut, with billowing, black velvet bishop sleeves and a pointed stomacher. The skirt was rustling silver taffeta. The ruff she chose to go with it was black rimmed with tiny silver beads.

The gown needed the waist taken in, and it also needed shortening. The dressmaker pinned it to fit, and her assistants
helped Tina remove the gown. When they moved down the mirror-lined room, Ram again drew her close and caressed her bottom.

“Stop—they’ll see us,” she protested.

“Ye are the one who wants tae play mistress. I just want tae play.” His fingers slipped beneath the short shift and glided between her legs. She pulled away from him, horrified that he would do such an intimate thing when they were not private.

The
modiste
brought two more gowns. One was apricot silk, its bodice made up of a hundred tiny pleats, its billowing skirt quilted for fullness. The other gown was white. Its cut was simple but very daring, following the natural contour of the body. Tina loved them both, and the dressmaker said, “The white is deceptively simple to show off your jewels. There is a goldsmith next door, if—”

Ramsay cut in firmly, “I have my own goldsmith, madam.”

The white gown was removed and taken to the alterations room. Ram pulled Tina onto his lap. Furiously she said, “I didn’t come here to be molested!”

“Where do ye go?” he teased.

She knew the women could see them in the mirrors and that they were aware of his feeling and touching her body. She brought her open palm up and slapped him across the face. As she struggled into her own gown, she said angrily, not caring that the women overheard, “I have changed my mind. I have no desire whatsoever to be your mistress, Lord Douglas!”

He caught up with her as she emerged onto the street. “Slow down, Vixen. I was only trying tae teach ye a lesson. I have no desire for ye tae be my mistress, either. Ye know I want ye for wife.”

Tina burst into tears.

“Now what the hell have I done tae upset ye?” Tina was angry with him, angry with herself, and angry with the whole world at the moment. She was afraid she
was breeding. She had had morning sickness again, and now she was bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. “Leave me alone, you lecherous swine!” she hissed, and turned her back upon him.

His mood had turned black. Women! There was no bloody pleasing them, even when you spent a fortune spoiling them rotten. He summoned a Douglas moss-trooper who had been patiently waiting with their horses. “Escort her ladyship back tae Garrowhill, and be warned—her tongue has the sting of a scorpion today.”

Tina kept her mouth shut about her suspicions, not daring to confide even in Ada yet. It was all very well in theory to bear Douglas his much-desired heir, then repudiate him for the sheer pleasure of ruining his happiness, but the cold reality of it was more than a little daunting. Now she realized she didn’t want her child to be a bastard. She also realized she’d have little success in keeping Black Ram Douglas separated from his child, especially if it was a son. He’d simply come and take him. A woman who stood between a man and his goal could be so easily, so effectively, so permanently eliminated!

To lift his mood, Ram went into one of his favorite haunts in Glasgow. Inside the tavern he recognized members of the King’s Guard and learned that James was inspecting his fleet and watching a new ship being built in the royal shipyard on the Clyde. Ram lost no time seeking out the king and found him with Admiral Arran, who had sailed to Glasgow on one of the ships he’d purchased from Ram in Ayr.

“Douglas, these are damned fine ships ye’ve just sold my navy. Why in God’s name didn’t ye let us have all six?” the king demanded.

“Some English ships are top-heavy. They wouldn’t have been seaworthy in our fierce northern waters,” explained Ram.

Arran concurred. “He’s right, sire. The sea rocks of Scotland are treacherous.”

“I asked Angus tae let ye have the use of his ships, and we’ll need them all, I’m afraid,” said the king. “The English are raiding our cities to the far north. The magnificent cathedral at Elgin has been totally destroyed. Argyll’s Campbells are patrolling the north for me now. To add insult tae injury, England’s new admiral is none other than the Earl of Surrey’s son, Thomas. I packed Ambassador Howard off tae England, with a strongly worded warning for young Henry Tudor.”

“Good riddance,” said Ram. “He was privy tae all Scotland’s business and has kept the English leopard informed of our every move.”

“Margaret writes tae her brother every week, but unknown tae her, from now on I’ll intercept the letters,” James said grimly.

“The borders are being devastated, sire The border lords held a meeting at Bothwell’s Hermitage, and they sent me tae bring ye the facts. We have learned English soldiers are garrisoned at Berwick, and Lord Dacre commands the garrison at Carlisle. Henry Tudor has a naked ambition tae gain control of Scotland, and he’ll use any method to achieve his goal. The English chief warden of the marches has been given orders tae raid and devastate as far into Scotland as he can, and the south is wide open tae his savagery. Towns, villages, abbeys, whole lairdships are going up in flames, and terrible atrocities are being done to the people.”

“Dine with me while we discuss what’s tae be done I would tae God I had a dozen like the valiant Lord Vengeance.” James looked from Arran to Douglas, feeling in his bones that one of them knew the identity of the elusive figure. “Did ye know King Henry has offered a thousand pounds annual pension tae any who can take him prisoner?”

“By Christ, I’d turn him in myself fer that kind o’ reward,” laughed Douglas.

Ramsay outwaited Arran before he made further disclosures
to James. Once Arran had departed along with the king’s chief adviser, Lord Elphinstone, Ram told James that Heath Kennedy had agreed to winter his Gypsies in England and scout information about troops.

“Thank ye. I too have spies out there. If it comes tae war, at least it is too late this year. The autumn gales have begun, and Henry won’t march an army through our winter snows. Untrained and untried as he is, I doubt even Henry Tudor will make his decision before spring.”

“Henry may be untried, sire, but the English Army and Navy are better equipped than any in the world, and their infantry and horsemen have one thing we Scots lack.”

“Discipline,” answered James regretfully. “Well, we still have the old alliance with France. If either country is attacked by the English, the other is bound by treaty to declare war against them.”

“Treaties can be ignored or broken if it’s expedient,” reminded Douglas.

“If I muster the clans, I believe I could amass an army of at least twenty thousand. I don’t think Henry Tudor has the slightest notion we can match him in numbers. Would ye be willing tae go tae London and apprise him of what twenty thousand wildmen could do tae his bloody diciplined soldiers?”

James was asking him to put his neck in a noose. “I believe I’m more effective in the borders or aboard ship than acting as ambassador,” Ram said truthfully. “Will ye issue me letters of marque against the English, sire?”

James lowered heavy eyelids over his shrewd eyes and realization dawned. “Sooo, now I know. I’ll draw them up myself and bypass the admiral, but I warn ye, they won’t do ye a damn bit of good if yer captured. Henry Tudor will hang ye fer piracy!”

“England’s new admiral, Thomas Howard, is nothing but a bloody pirate, so it will take a pirate tae outmatch him.”

“I don’t mean now, but later, before I declare war— would you consider going to Whitehall?” asked James.

Ram placed his hands between the king’s and solemnly repledged his oath. “This man is yours. I’ll winter at Douglas—but what of the borders?”

“I’ve already sent reinforcements. The Kerrs of Cessford, the Hepburns, and Logan of Restalrig are on their way.”

Though the hour was advanced when Ram returned to the townhouse, he immediately dispatched a message to his stronghold, Castle Douglas, telling Colin to return to Douglas and to fetch Mr. Burque with him. Tina would be disappointed that they wouldn’t be going to court, but her chef would certainly make life at Douglas more palatable. He hesitated to disturb her at this late hour, but the lure of her was irresistible. Inside his doublet lay the jewels he had purchased for her, and his fingers fairly itched to clasp the emeralds about her throat. His mouth went dry when he thought of lifting the silken mass of her hair from the nape of her neck to fasten the necklace. He turned the doorknob softly and cursed when he found that portal locked against him.

“Tina, unlock this door,” he commanded.

“Go away,” came her heartless reply.

“Tina, I’m warning you!” he growled.

The silence told him she heeded him not.

“I’ll count to three,” came an ominous ultimatum.

“You may count to three thousand, if your intelligence level enables you, but I shan’t open the door.”

Her challenge fanned the fires of his fury. “Little bitch! If ye think ye are safe behind a locked door, think again.” He strode to the top of the stairs, where an Italian sculpture stood upon a pedestal He snatched up the pedestal and proceeded to batter down the door.

Tina, now exceedingly apprehensive, cried, “If you break down the door, it will do you no good—so you’d better go and seek one of your other mistresses!”

The door caved in under Ram’s insistent battering, and his eyes were dangerously black. “Where the hell do ye think I’ve been fer the last eight hours?” he taunted.

She gasped. “Lecherous swine! You’ll have no more of me.”

His eyes swept over her neatly braided hair and pristine white nightgown. “You need a disheveling,” he said with relish. He fastened a strong, brown hand in the neckline of the gown and tore it to shreds. Her lovely full breasts rose and fell rapidly with her agitation. She reached up to rake his cheek with her nails, and he laughed at her. “Ye need a lesson in obedience, lady. Know this—I will have ye any time I please, any place I fancy, on the bed, on the floor, or on the bloody high street! Ye will yield tae me as many times as I desire ye. Never, ever deny me again!”

“You can beat me senseless!” she cried with bravado.

“I won’t just beat ye, I’ll ravish ye,” he said with quiet intent.

Her chin went up, and sparks of fiery hatred flashed from her golden eyes. “You wouldn’t dare!”

With deliberate hands he removed his belt and wrapped it about his knuckles. He sat on the bed and with an iron hand dragged her across his knee. He raised the belt with every intention of beating her.

“Douglas, no!” she cried, “I think I’m with child.”

He dropped the belt and cupped her shoulders in his massive hands. “Is this another of yer tricks, like losing yer memory?”

“Nay, I have morning sickness,” she said faintly.

Hope soared in his breast. “Ye little vixen, ye provoke me tae violence!” His arms enfolded her, “Honey love, did I hurt ye?”

“Yes! You hurt me this morning when you treated me like a strumpet, and you hurt me again when you stayed out carousing until midnight. Then you come home reeling drunk, smash down the door, and rape me.”

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