Page 34 of Wild Hearts

"That's because your bloody brains are all in your cock!" Then he relented and added in a more brotherly tone, "Don't worry about it, our Margaret Merrylegs is likely barren, anyway."

Dawn was breaking over the city as he arrived. He went directly to the town house for a fresh horse and a meal, then presented himself at McCabe's law office. "You will be receiving a communique from Abrahams. Tell him his wife is being held in England. The exchange will take place tomorrow: Just inland from famous Brotherston's Hole, where the sea spouts up through blowholes, is an inn. it's a well-known place called The Haven. His young bride will be waiting there. Warn him to put a guard on the gold; I don't want the coffers arriving empty."

"This concludes our business, Lord Cockburn. Join me in a drink before you depart. I offer a toast for a profitable conclusion before I bid you goodbye."

"Not good-bye, merely au revoir, as I shall need your services again soon."

He didn't stop at his favorite tavern on this trip but headed straight back to the castle. He had an important decision to make, and he didn't need a brain fogged with brandy fumes. In order for his plan to go smoothly in securing the gold, he needed another man he could trust implicitly to lead the men. A great fear filled his heart as he thought of Troy and how close he'd come to death two years ago when the Gordons had raided and set their villages afire. The wound Troy had taken was well healed, of course, but it had been a close call. He felt responsible for Troy's close call and would rather cut off his own arm than deliberately expose him to danger again. He knew Ian was more than capable of leading the men, but he also knew if he passed over Troy and chose Ian for the dangerous job, his brother would never forgive him; not in this life. What it boiled down to was the grim fact that he had no choice.

At the stables, he gave his horse a good rubdown, then went in search of Troy. He smiled and said, "Tomorrow's the day, but I can't pull it off without you."

"I can't wait," Troy responded immediately.

"Come, let's go down to the men's quarters. You'll need to pick at least ten good men. Here's the plan. The gold leaves in a wagon tomorrow morning. They think they are to deliver it to an inn close to the English border. It's a trap, of course. The law will be all over the place, ready to arrest us. The gold will have to head south along High Street, past the tollbooth. Just past the Salt Tron on the outskirts of Edinburgh is Balantine's Distillery."

"Don't we own half that distillery with Magnus?" asked Troy.

"Clever lad. I believe we do!" Paris grinned. "You and your men will await the wagon at the distillery. It will have armed guards with it, maybe only two, but possibly as many as six. Dispose of the guards, load the wagon with kegs of whisky atop the gold, turn it about so it's heading north. Go back through Edinburgh straight through to the port of Leith. I've got the easy part. I'll be waiting at Leith with the ship."

Troy's grin widened as he realized most of the danger would be his. "Consider it done!"

"I want you well armed, Troy. All your men will need pistols as well as their dirks."

"You are worrying already. I won't bungle it, you know."

After the men had been briefed to Paris's satisfaction, he went up to the solarium. It was a lovely room with large windows that allowed the afternoon sun to illuminate the brilliant oranges and yellows of the wall tapestries. Because it was harvest time, the mantel of the fireplace was decorated with a sheaf of wheat and branches cut from an oak tree, displaying its autumn-colored leaves and hard little acorns.

Tabrizia and Alexandria sat on stools making little corncob dolls for the children who would come to the harvest festival at the end of the week.

Paris swept Tabrizia with a look that examined her from head to foot. "Are you well today?" he asked with some concern.

She lifted her eyes to his and blushed with shame as she remembered how he had cleansed her the night before. "I'm fine today. I want to... thank you, milord." Her eyes lowered, and her lashes touched her cheeks. She was also remembering how gentle and tender he had been to her, and the pity the tale of his faithless wife had evoked. She knew her feelings for Paris were deepening. If she let her heart have its way, she would love him. If she was honest with herself, it was only duty she felt toward her husband in Edinburgh. Maxwell Abrahams was only a kind stranger, while this man was a familiar presence, though a most disturbing one. Yet she had exchanged vows before God with the other man and knew she had no choice but to return to him and be the obedient wife he wanted. A sigh escaped her lips.

Paris heard and looked at her hungrily. How could such a mere wisp of a girl affect him the way she did? The longing he felt for her grew stronger each time he laid eyes upon her, but what he wanted more than anything was for her to feel the same. He wanted her to respond to him from her heart. He wanted to see her eyes light with pleasure when he approached her. "I'm taking the Sea Witch out tomorrow. Would you like to sail with me?"

She threw up her defenses immediately. "I wouldn't like to do anything with you," she said in a cool voice, and moved away. His eyes clouded and darkened as he stared at her back.

"I'll come," offered Alexandria eagerly, eyes sparkling.

"I wasn't addressing you, Alexandria, as you well know. When I'm in need of your company, I shall issue an invitation." When he saw the hurt his words caused his-sister, he softened it with, "I'm only going to Leith."

Tabrizia caught her breath. Leith was Edinburgh's port. She could easily walk to Edinburgh, if she got to Leith. Now she had somehow to erase the rebuff she had just given Paris. She turned to him and said softly, "I'm sorry, Milord, it must be the effects of last night. Perhaps the sea air would do me good."

He leaned close and whispered, "I'll forgive you if you let me remove your stitches."

She blushed vividly and stammered, "Mrs. Hall did that for me."

He chuckled. "You take everything I say so seriously."

"Were you serious about taking me aboard?"

"We sail on the early tide. Wear something warm. I'm not expecting bad weather, but the Atlantic can be unbelievably brisk."

As the sun was setting, Tabrizia went out on the battlements. She was filled with thoughts for what the morrow would bring. She saw herself in her mind's eye, slipping from the huge ship onto the quayside. She would hide until darkness could cover her movements, then go straight down Leith Wynd to Edinburgh. The sky was turning a vivid purple over the mountains. The fragrance of the heather wafted on the first evening breeze, and she knew she would miss this place achingly. She was relieved to see Shannon come riding in, for she would be able to retrieve her dark velvet cloak for tomorrow's voyage. After supper, when she asked for the cloak, Shannon begged its use for one more night.

"I promise I'll leave it on the oaken chest in the solarium, so you can retrieve it at first light. I'll also lend you my fur muff, if you promise not to let the wind carry it overboard."

"Oh, I couldn't take your muff," protested Tabrizia.

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