Wild Hearts (20 page)

"You'll forget about the gold?" she beseeched softly.

He slowly took hold of her hands. "I'll take care of everything. There's no need for you to worry about anything or anyone."

"Oh, Paris, even if I had no husband, you are still wed to Anne," she persisted.

He raised her hands to his mouth. "Hush, love, don't distress yourself. I'll divorce her and send her back to Cardell. In truth, I won't be satisfied to have you as mistress. I want you for my wife as soon as I can be rid of her."

"Paris, promise me you won't do her any harm. We could not live with ourselves if we had her blood on our hands!" she cried, her eyes filled with apprehension.

"I could," he said simply, "but I don't suppose you could, my little lamb." He drew her down to his lap and held her against his heart. She trembled at his touch, her pulses beating so frantically, she could feel them in her wrists and temples and throat. As he held her secure and safe, without making further advances, her trembling quieted, and she began to relax in his warmth.

He lifted his goblet to her lips, then drank from the same place upon the rim her lips had touched. They drained the loving cup between them. He held her possessively, as if she would belong to him forever, and it soothed the emptiness she had always felt. His arms, so strong and protective; the fire, so warm and hypnotic--all lulled her into a state of drowsiness. She lay against him without moving and gazed, trance-like, into the flames. Very slowly, he began to brush back the tendrils from her forehead. His lips brushed her eyelids along her cheekbone until they found hers, then he fastened his mouth to hers in a kiss that brought her out of her drowsiness with a start.

"Tabrizia, will you be the one to share all things with me?" he begged hoarsely.

"Ah, yes," she breathed.

"Exchange vows with me now. Promise to be mine forever, forsaking all others."

"I promise, Paris, I promise."

He slipped the emerald from his hand and slid it onto her finger. The ring was much too large for her, so he slipped it onto her thumb and kissed the palm of her hand. Then his lips turned fierce, his hands became hard upon her body; indeed, everything about him turned suddenly hard. He removed her robe, and she saw the color of his eyes darken with desire at the revealing lavender silk. He tore the filmy garments easily with urgent hands, exposing her naked beauty to his eyes and mouth.

Alarmed, she began to struggle, for with sudden clarity she knew what he was about to do with her. He fastened his avid mouth to her breast, hurting the sensitive nipple in a flood of passion that he could not control. He had waited so long, longer than he'd ever waited for a woman before, that now all restraint was gone as his body sought the final goal.

As panic struck her, she cried, "Paris, please, you are hurting me!" She was frightened and tried to pull away from him, but he didn't even notice. He arose, still holding her, and carried her through the alcove to his bed. As she tried to speak, he covered her mouth with his, lost to everything but the overwhelming desire that threatened to engulf him. He placed her upon the bed and discarded his robe. She was up on her knees instantly, facing him, denying him. The impact of his muscular torso displayed so boldly shocked her senses so that every detail was seared into her brain. The massive shoulders blocked out the rest of the room; the thistle tattoo stood out in such relief, she felt it would prick her flesh. The pelt of dark red curls covered his chest, thinned out across his belly, then thickened again in a luxuriant growth that covered his groin. His shaft, thick and rigid, thrust upward and outward toward her, while a ridge of white scar tissue slashed him, thigh to knee.

She recoiled in horror. A trick of the light cast his shadow up the wall It was gigantic and menacing. Fear struck her heart. It was like a nightmare from the past where the monster came to devour her.

"No!" she cried.

"Yes," he asserted, and, reaching out, pulled her beneath him. Her beauty inflamed his senses to madness. She began to scream, and once again he fused his mouth to hers to quiet her and coax her into a giving mood. His mouth slid down against her throat, and he demanded thickly, "Let me love you, darling. Relax and give me all your sweetness."

"No, no, Paris! You are too big for me, you will hurt me, no, please stop," she begged.

"Don't fight me, sweetheart. I know it's your first time," he soothed and, at the same time pried open her thighs with his knee, spreading them for his entrance.

She went rigid with fear the moment he tried to penetrate her. He withdrew immediately. She opened her eyes to see blood smeared across her thigh and upon the sheet. She turned accusing eyes upon him. "I told you you were too big for me. My God, how could you use me so?"

"You are suffering from your own fear, you silly child," he said, trying to keep exasperation from his voice.

She raised wide, hurt eyes to his and saw a determination there that terrified her. He reached out for her once more, murmuring, "This time I'll try not to hurt you." His mouth slid along her throat as his hands opened her thighs. "I adore you, my darling. Yield to me," he begged.

"No, I cannot bear the pain," she protested, and in her struggles, her knee caught him sharply in the groin.

"There would have been no pain if you hadn't gone as rigid as a board!" His eyes glittered like emeralds.

She fled from the bed to retrieve her gown and petticoat. He followed her quickly. She turned burning eyes from his nakedness. "Cover yourself! Have you no shame?" She felt so much shame herself, she feared she would die from it.

"Dammit, wench, why did you have to ruin such a beautiful night? A typical woman's trick to make a bloody hue and cry over nothing," he accused.

"Nothing?" she asked as the tears slipped down her delicate cheeks and fell upon her naked breasts. "That's like saying I'm worthless," she whispered, and closed her eyes to shut out the cruelty of his words.

She buttoned her dress and drew herself up to her full height, pride and anger staining her cheeks pink. "Well, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing it cost you twenty thousand in gold. You will never get the ransom for me after what you've done."

A short laugh escaped him because he was not to be outdone. "I already have the gold. You watched it being brought aboard at Leith."

She was stricken. Her eyes reminded him of a fawn he'd once wounded before it died. The moment the words were out, he could have bitten off his tongue. She was devastated. With one sentence he had stripped away her self-respect and destroyed her honor. He loved her so much, yet with each word he uttered he drove her further away.
How could things have gone so badly between them in the space of a few minutes?
he thought wildly. Everything had been perfect while he cradled her in his arms before the fire. The anticipation had been delicious, then everything had gone wrong. He stood helplessly before her while she told him what she thought of him.

"You had to have me aboard that day so you could gloat over your victory," she said slowly, sadly. "That I was unknowing and guileless made no difference to you. It required my presence before you could savor your triumph." White-lipped, she finished dressing. She averted her eyes; she could not bear the sight of him.

He said her name: "Tabrizia--" But she could not tolerate the sound of his voice: She covered her ears and fled from the room.

Tabrizia took little notice of her surroundings or where she went. She ran along a gallery, down a staircase, then turned left into another wing of the fortress. A castle guard halted her and demanded to know what she was doing there.

"Lord Cockburn brought me," she blurted.

Immediately, the guard was contrite. "Forgive me, mistress, for questioning ye, but the earl's private chambers are in this part o' the castle. I didna know ye were a guest here."

Magnus came out of his library. "What's all the racket?" He stopped in amazement as he saw Tabrizia. "Danielle... Danielle; how can this be?"

"My name is Tabrizia... my mother was Danielle."

"Danielle Lamont?" Magnus demanded incredulously.

Paris, advancing upon the pair, concluded for his uncle, "This is your daughter, Magnus."

The older man stared in disbelief, the fierce glare emphasizing the hawk-like features and hooked nose. He slanted questioning brows at Paris; then looked back again at the delicately beautiful girl before him. She was so like Danielle, his dearest love, yet there was no mistaking she was a Cockburn. As the shock of awareness hit him, Magnus felt a sharp spasm of pain in his chest and sat down abruptly as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He said slowly, "Impossible as that seems, I cannot deny the evidence of my own eyes! My God, boy, where did you find her?"

Tabrizia had sustained too many shocks for one evening. She sank to her knees and began to sob. Paris knew better than to attempt to comfort her, but Magnus immediately bent to her aid.

"Don't touch me!" she spat so savagely, that he recoiled at the bitterness.

" 'Tis a long story, Magnus. It began for me ten or twelve years back. I was with my father in Edinburgh the day a young Frenchwoman died. She gave her child to Angus, and he took her to the orphanage. It meant nothing to me. I was fourteen or fifteen at the time. After my father's death, I was going over the ledgers and discovered he'd been paying for the Lamont child all along. When I saw her, I suspected she was a Cockburn. Later, when I discovered she was named after a city like the rest of us, I was certain. I was almost positive she wasn't my father's child— so that left only you, Magnus."

"My God, if only I'd known. Child, forgive me," he said quietly.

"I will never forgive you," she swore.

Paris explained, "The orphanage was rather a harsh place. Now she discovers her father is the Earl of Ormistan. Rather ironic, is it not?"

Magnus was filled with horror at the immensity of the wrong that had been done her. "I'm sorry, child. I didn't know of your existence." He tried to explain his part in the tragedy.

She lifted her face and said passionately, "The orphanage was nothing! I survived, didn't I? The tragedy is my mother. It took five long years on the streets of Edinburgh to kill her, after you cast her out!"

"I did no such thing," Magnus thundered. "I worshiped the ground Danielle walked upon She was the dearest love of my life. It was she who left me. I nearly went mad with grief when I couldn't find her. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I'd been with King Jamie on one of his endless progresses to Montrose and Aberdeen. When I got back, she'd run off with another man. It was Margaret's mother who gave me her last message. She could not face me because she was carrying another man's child. Now I can plainly see it was all lies."

Margaret Sinclair, her long, black hair framing the paleness of her face, stood in the shadows. She pressed her hands to the low-cut gown to still the agitation in her breast. She made her move swiftly, lest Magnus recall who had been there to console him all those years ago. "Both of you should be ashamed," she scolded. "I'll see to her." She frowned darkly at Magnus. "Not an ounce of sensitivity between you." She helped Tabrizia to her feet. "You need to rest, you are at the point of exhaustion. Come, enough for tonight. Emotions won't run so hot in the cool light of day."

The emotional shocks Tabrizia had sustained took their toll. She wanted to get as far away from these Cockburn men as possible, so she allowed Margaret to take control and lead her to a chamber where she could be apart.

Though she seemed filled with concern, Margaret had always been able to conceal her true feelings well. At the moment she was seething with anger. She cursed her mother's stupidity for not discovering who this girl was. All those years ago her mother had plotted and schemed to get rid of Magnus's French mistress and set the fifteen-year-old Margaret in her place. Her mother had ambition and had schemed for her to become the new countess, but after all her efforts, Magnus had never bothered to wed her.

Now the French bitch's daughter had turned up to haunt them. Margaret was doubly furious because she knew very well that Paris had brought the girl here for dalliance. She put Tabrizia into a guest room next to her own and gave her an extra down-filled comforter. In her own room she brewed a potion and took it in to the distraught girl. Using her smoothest manner, she urged Tabrizia to drink up and climb into bed. Margaret returned to her chamber and drew the bar across. The woman in the next room would be unconscious till morning, and Margaret had a lot of thinking to do.

Tabrizia lay back in the strange bed and relived the evening's events. She felt a great emptiness inside, as if all her emotions had been used up and there was nothing left. All those years she'd endured in an orphanage while her father was a great earl who spent time at the King's side The implications were too numerous to comprehend at the moment. Her mind seemed to go floating off across the room all by itself. She was trying to think of a name. Paris! He was the one. She had been so fearful of giving him her trust; then, in a great rush of love, she had pledged herself to him with all her heart and the moment she did so, he had betrayed her. Her eyes kept closing until she could fight the drowsiness no longer. At last she capitulated and let sleep carry her off to delicious oblivion.

Magnus looked at Paris and said, "I can scarce believe what's happened here tonight. You don't know what it means to me. To be denied children all my life, to watch my brother Angus found a dynasty of seven fine sons and daughters, then miraculously I find the girl I loved so long ago gave me a daughter of my own. I'll make it up to her, Paris. You must plead my case for me. The first thing I must do is get her legitimized within the law. I'll redo one of these wings to give her her own apartments. By God, Paris, I was feeling low with this accursed pain in my chest, but now I've something to live for— plans to make. One thing I must do is change my will."