Wild Hearts (25 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical, #Large Type Books, #Scotland

BOOK: Wild Hearts
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Tabrizia knew he had just described what life with Paris Cockburn would be like. She closed her eyes to banish thoughts of him.

Stephen said, "That is one of the reasons I am going to England. The people have a gentler nature; even the weather and the landscape are gentler."

"Perhaps that accounts for it," she said softly, touching his hand.

He brought her fingers to his lips, then quickly bent and touched his mouth to hers. She returned his kiss, discovering in the process that he had a very nice mouth. She was both surprised and pleased to discover that she was not afraid of his kisses.

 

Alexandria knew she could stay away from home no longer. Preparations would be under way for Venetia's wedding, and she knew she could not miss being in the thick of things, although she regretted that Tabrizia would not be attending.

"I want to buy Venetia a really lovely wedding present. We'll go shopping today, and you can take it back with you when you go home tomorrow," decided Tabrizia.

She purchased a porcelain dinner service for twenty-four, decorated with peacocks and edged in gold. The shop arranged to deliver it within the hour, because it was far too heavy for the girls to carry.

As they were returning to the town house in the late afternoon, there was a-terrible commotion almost on their doorstep. A young man was desperately trying to control his horse, which was so frenzied, it reared time after time threatening to smash its flailing hooves down upon the head of its owner. In a flash, Alexandria had darted forward to see what the trouble was. Just as she reached it, the horse went down into a collapse, and she could clearly see that it was choking to death. The leather bridle strap that held the mouth bit had broken, and the bit had slipped down the horse's throat. Without hesitation, Alexandria grasped its lower jaw firmly and slid her fingers all the way down the horse's throat to retrieve the swallowed bit. It was like a miracle; once the horse could breathe again, it staggered to its feet and stood trembling and subdued.

Tabrizia had rushed forward, crying, "Alexandria, be careful!"

The young man who owned the horse stood in amazement as he watched the young girl go into action. "My God, if that wasn't the bravest thing I ever saw anyone do! You saved her life. How can I ever thank you?"

Alexandria looked up at the slim young man with, the dark curls and intense gray eyes, saw his admiration for her bravery written there, and her heart skipped and danced in her breast.

Tabrizia spoke. "Oh, do take your horse into the stable at the back of the house and let her have a drink and a rest."

"Thank you, madam." He bowed formally. "Are you Mrs. Abrahams by any chance?"

"Yes, I am. Did you wish to see me, sir?"

"I do have a private matter I would like to discuss with you, if you could spare me a few moments, ma'am." He flushed deeply.

"First, see to your horse, then come into the house. You can take tea with us." Tabrizia smiled her encouragement because he seemed embarrassed. The girls ran up the steps and entered the town house.

"Tabrizia, don't you think he's the handsomest man you've ever seen?" asked Alexandria breathlessly.

"I could see that you thought so. Go up and put on something really pretty, and I'll order afternoon tea for us!'

When the young man knocked on the door, Tabrizia took him into the room that she and Stephen used to go over Abrahams's papers. Is your animal all right now?"

"Yes, thank you, ma'am. I'm extremely sorry to bother you, ma'am, especially under the circumstances" — he blushed—"but it is because of your husband's death that I had to have a word with you in private."

He seemed so ill at ease that Tabrizia did all she could to make him feel comfortable. "It is no bother, I assure you, if there is something I can help you with."

He hesitated for a few moments, then took his courage in his hands and plunged in. "I foolishly gave Mr. Abrahams the deed on one of our properties when I needed money, and the thing is that my father knows nothing of the matter. When I heard that Mr. Abrahams had died, I realized that the note could be easily called in, and my father would get to know of it." He paused for breath, then continued. "So I would like to make an arrangement with you, madam. I will pay off the debt as quickly as I can on the understanding that my father does not learn of the matter."

Tabrizia said, "I have most of Mr. Abrahams's papers here. Let me see if I can find yours. What is your name?"

"Adam Gordon, ma'am."

Tabrizia was startled. "Is your father Lord John Gordon?"

"Yes, ma'am, do you know him?" he asked, alarmed.

"Only by reputation." She smiled ruefully. She searched through the papers twice before she found the paper she sought. "I think this is it. Haddon House at Dufftown?" she asked. "Five hundred pounds?" There were two other papers with Gordon signatures upon them, and two more signed by Huntly. She made a mental note to go through them thoroughly once she was alone.

"Aye"— he nodded—"that's the one."

She handed him his deed and tore up his signed promissory note.

He protested gallantly. "Madam, I cannot allow you to do that."

"It is done, Mr. Gordon. Let it remain strictly between us two."

"But why are you being so generous to me, madam?" he asked, amazed.

"If you must know, I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands. Your father is Lord John Gordon, but did you know that my father is the Earl of Ormistan?"

Adam Gordon blanched visibly at the name of the hated enemy. He suddenly realized that paper could have been used against him to ensure the loss of the property at Dufftown. He was speechless in his gratitude.

"Come, take tea with us, Adam. Do not let our fathers' blood feuds prevent us from being friends."

"Thank you, ma'am, from the bottom of my heart."

She led him into the dining room where Alexandria was impatiently awaiting another glimpse of her Prince Charming. Adam took Alexandria's hand warmly. "I must thank you again for saving my horse, miss. I swear it was the bravest thing I ever saw a female do. You have all my admiration as well as my thanks."

Alexandria bloomed under his compliments. The attraction was instant and quite mutual. With amusement teasing the corners of her mouth, Tabrizia said, "Adam Gordon, allow me to introduce my cousin, Alexandria Cockburn."

The two young people went white as their identities were revealed to each other.

"Perhaps something stronger than tea is in order. It has been a most eventful day," noted Tabrizia, enjoying herself thoroughly.

Later in the evening, while Alexandria was packing her things and finding it a most difficult task because of all the new clothes that had been bought for her, Tabrizia carefully went through Abrahams's papers once more. She discovered that John Gordon had borrowed nine thousand on Macduff Castle, his brother Will Gordon had received another five thousand on property in Aberdeen, and the Earl of Huntly had taken out a ten-thousand-pound mortgage on Huntly Castle and its lands when his .wife, Henrietta Stewart; had to be equipped to accompany the Queen to the English Court.

Tabrizia realized that these papers, as well as providing money, provided her with power. The boy Adam she had just helped was of little or no consequence; she had no quarrel with him and wanted none, but she was a Cockburn, and these papers belonged to their blood enemies, the Gordons. She decided not to tell Magnus about them but to quickly get them back into the bank's vault for safekeeping.

As soon as Stephen Galbraith came, she would get him to make copies of these documents for her. She had a little casket with a key, an ideal place to store these copies. It would keep them from prying eyes but at the same time be close to her hand if ever she needed them. She was beginning to realize that power carried more weight than money. Tabrizia frowned. In a way she realized that as she gained knowledge, she lost the freedom of innocence, and she could not decide if this was good or bad. She sighed for her lost illusions and reluctantly admitted that strength was better than weakness A thousandfold better!

 

Magnus was returning to Tantallon for a couple of days and escorting Alexandria home at the same time. Try as he might, he could not persuade Tabrizia to accompany him. "I have dress fittings until two o'clock, then Stephen will be here until four. I promise to come to Tantallon very soon, only let me enjoy Edinburgh a little while longer. It's not as if I'll be alone, you know. I have Mrs. Hall and a house full of servants." So, reluctantly, he set out and left Tabrizia to her own devices.

Paris Cockburn had just come from McCabe's law office where he had had the deed for the mansion house in Midlothian transferred from David Lennox into Venetia's name. He was glad of his decision to stop before the long ride back to Cockburnspath, when he entered the back room of Ainslee's Tavern on High Street and found his best friend, the Black Douglas, wetting his whistle.

"By God, James, well met. I've not clapped eyes on ye in over a year!" Paris laughed. "Have ye been in the Highlands all this time?" James Douglas glared at his friend with black eyes, white teeth flashing in his black beard.

"Aye! Remember I went up on a flying visit to see to the lands I inherited from my wife? All the way to Inverness. When I got there, I found a bastard Highlander by the name of Cawdor had filched half my bloody lands. I had to send down to my castle in Douglas for fifty of my moss-troopers to teach the thieving swine a lesson. And I had to leave half of them up there to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Paris grinned. "And what the hell will King Jamie say when he hears Douglas is using his men in the Highlands instead of keeping peace on the borders?"

"Piss on Jamie." The Black Douglas grinned.

"I can hardly believe you'd part with that many of your men, James," Paris said seriously.

"Aye, well, I suppose it was guilt. I never looked after my wife's lands while she was living, poor woman, so now I feel I must make up for the neglect."

"It wasn't only the lands you neglected," accused Paris.

"Aye, well, that, too. Ye know yourself what a bad bargain marriage can turn out to be." He patted the barmaid's lovely round bottom as she filled their glasses for the third time, and she winked at him saucily.

The two friends sat with their heads together, drinking round after round and catching up on the year that had just passed. It was near midnight when Paris decided not to ride back to Cockburnspath, and invited James to spend the night at the town house.

The two men stabled and fed their own horses, then entered the town house through the rear entrance. Paris waved away the offer of a servant to serve them food. "Nay, off to bed with ye. I'll soon get a blaze going in the chamber I always use upstairs, and Magnus has some of the French brandy I smuggled across last time I was in France."

Tabrizia awoke with a start. She could hear loud noises and men's voices coming from the next bedchamber. Her hand covered her mouth in alarm as she recognized that one of the voices belonged to Paris Cockburn. For a moment, she didn't know what to do, then decided if she stayed very quiet, they would never know there was anyone in the next room. She heard the unmistakable clink of bottles and glasses, and then she heard the other man say, "I heard a disturbing rumor while I was up in the Highlands, that John Gordon and his father Huntly have advised the King to garrison English soldiers here in Scotland."

"Christ, I'll not believe it even of Huntly. Scotland would be no more than an occupied country!"

"Well, my own gut feeling tells me, it's true. I say we should hit him and hit him hard," said Douglas, "not just the southerly edges of his land but right up at Huntly Castle itself."

"As well as that, perhaps we should try to get the King's ear, to dissuade him from such a thing. English soldiers in Scotland would not keep the peace; it would only serve to stir the clans until there was outright war."

Tabrizia closed her eyes. All men-ever spoke of was war and raids and bloodshed. She heard them refill their glasses over and over, and heard their voices become slurred and gradually grow louder. They began to laugh until it threatened to shake the rafters and she could hear every shocking word they uttered.

"Had a visit from Bothwell a while back," Paris mentioned.

"Didn't his mistress die while I was away?" asked Douglas.

"Aye, and therein lies a tale. Ye remember how he would have killed any man who took a second glance in her direction? When he invited us to pay our last respects— men only, by the way— what do you suppose we found?"

"Nothing Bothwell did would shock me." Douglas laughed.

"That's what I thought! But he had her laid out on an altar draped with black satin, black candles and all— stark naked."

"Well, I'll be damned! No wonder there's gossip about him being a Satanist. Didn't he mind other men looking at her?"

"Showing us all what we'd missed. Her blond hair fell like a curtain to the floor, and her skin' was like white velvet. There wasn't a man in the room who didn't get excited just looking at her."

"Christ, I'm hard just listening to ye." Douglas laughed.

It was after two o'clock in the morning. Tabrizia was getting angrier by the minute at the drunken shenanigans that were keeping her from sleep. She sat up and lit the candles in the candelabra.

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