Page 36 of Wild Hearts

They waited until Tabrizia went up to her chamber; then Paris gave the thumbs-up sign to Shannon, who ran toward her brothers like a ten-year-old. They threw their arms about each other and laughed until the tears rolled down their cheeks.

"Paris, let me have some whisky will you? I've had twinges of toothache all day," complained Shannon, "and I must be rid of it before the Harvest Festival on Saturday. God, we've got something to celebrate now!"

"Mmm, I can taste the roasted oxen now," exclaimed Troy. "The feast always reminds me of oxen. The delicious smell of the meat roasting on the spits all day permeates the whole castle and makes your mouth water."

"Well, I'm off to see the cargo is safely put to bed. I'll send one of the lads with a barrel of whisky from Balantine's. It came as a sort of bonus." He grinned, then left.

Troy marveled, "By God, he's one step ahead of everybody when it comes to scheming."

Shannon shook her head. "Paris isn't like ordinary people; so it seems unreasonable to expect him to play according to standard rules."

"Ah, well"—Troy winked—"no guts, no glory!"

Alone in his bed, Paris's thoughts traveled over a wider range than they had all day. He chuckled as he thought of the men waiting to arrest him on the English border. A strange chill went up the back of his neck as he thought of Abrahams's revenge. He was certain Abrahams knew his identity, and when he found the fox had slipped the trap, his vengeance would be terrible. If he could, Abrahams would bring him low. What means could he use? The girl, of course. If he suspected she was Magnus's daughter, a visit to the earl would be his first move.

Paris knew he had no choice. His time had run out. He must get to Magnus before Abrahams. It was time to unite father and daughter and disclose the truth of parentage. He longed to bind Tabrizia to him before he entrusted her to her father. He wanted her loyalty and he wanted her love. Up to now, he'd made a bad job of it. Well, it was now or never. Tomorrow he would bind her to him forever, so she would cling only to him. He wanted all or nothing.

CHAPTER 8

Mrs. Hall, carrying a breakfast tray for Tabrizia, beamed as she heard the pleasant voice behind her.

"What a beautiful morning, Mrs. Hall. Allow me to open the door for you."

Tabrizia was surprised to have Paris come to her bedchamber, and was thankful she was up and dressed.

His eyes moved down her slender body and back up again. He licked lips gone suddenly dry. If he could waken each morning to this fresh, lovely flower, he would ask no more of life. He cleared his throat and set forth his plans for her. "My Uncle Magnus, the Earl of Ormistan, is giving a dinner party this evening. Since I am a guest, you will have to be one also, as it would seem you try to run away every time I turn my back."

"Lord Cockburn, I am honor-bound to do so. I would be a poor creature indeed if I did not try to prevent such extortion. It is my duty to hinder your conspiracy whenever the opportunity. presents itself."

"You and your damned duty," he flared, "you carry it ever before you like a bloody beetle rolling a ball of dung!" He saw her eyes go from lavender to dark purple, realized the sparks were about to fly, and cursed himself for a clumsy fool. He held up his hand, dragged a chair forward and sat down before her. "Let me begin again," he said in a persuasive tone. "It would give me the greatest pleasure to escort you to dinner tonight at Tantallon Castle. Tabrizia, I know you have had the pleasure of few parties in your life. I promise you will enjoy it excessively. In the old days, when the countess was alive, I remember some of the balls they gave were legendary. Of course, this is not a ball, just a dinner party, but getting-dressed up for a glittering evening's entertainment always gives a woman pleasure, and I cannot think of anyone I'd rather spend the evening with."

Tabrizia couldn't help picturing herself in the setting he described. It would be exciting to go to Tantallon and actually dine with an earl.

"Does the earl know about me?" she asked suddenly.

Paris hesitated. "Well yes... and no."

"You rogue. You've told him only what you want him to know," she accused.

"That's true," he confessed. "Why don't you tell him your story?"

"I intend to do so," she warned him.

He laughed. "He is in for a surprise." He turned to Mrs. Hall, who stood listening to their every word. "Good, then it's all settled. Pack her an overnight bag, Mrs; Hall." In spite of her years, Mrs. Hall was half in love with him. His wishes became law the moment they were expressed. "We'll be leaving in early afternoon. Sometimes the fog closes in on that mountain between here and Tantallon."

After he left, Mrs. Hall made a moue with her lips to show how impressed she was. "Imagine, dining with the earl! I'm going to order hot water for yer bath, and we'll do yer hair in a really elegant style."

Tabrizia sighed. "Mrs. Hall, I came so close to escaping in Leith yesterday, but there are so many of these damned Cockburns, while I was eluding one, another caught me!"

"But you would have missed this lovely visit to Tantallon," exclaimed Mrs. Hall.

"Yes," rejoiced Tabrizia dryly, "how fortunate my plans were ruined." Actually, Tabrizia was excited in spite of herself. She felt thrilled to be going to a party and also felt a deep curiosity about Tantallon and its occupants. She had the inexplicable feeling that something was going to happen. The anticipation grew as her imagination winged its way toward the coming event. As Tabrizia sat dreaming before the fire, absently toweling her arms and shoulders, Mrs. Hall talked nonstop. "This is a perfect occasion for those lavender silk underclothes ye've never worn. They're at the very bottom of yer trunk. You have a lavender silk gown to go over them, too. Ah, lassie, yer so lucky to have such lovely things."

Tabrizia shivered. "Don't you think it's a bit chilly for lavender silk?"

"Och, don't be so daft, child. Ye'll wear a traveling gown and yer warm cloak. I'll pack the silk dress for ye. Now you rest yourself, so yer young legs will be fit for dancing all night, and ye mustn't eat too much for lunch, maybe a little broth. Ye mun leave plenty o' room for the feast they'll be serving."

By three o'clock, Paris was ready to depart. The afternoon was closing in fast, and the air had a sharp nip to it Tabrizia's overnight bag with the lavender silk and her toilet articles were strapped onto a packhorse along with Paris's things. The hood of her cloak had been carefully drawn over the coiffure Mrs. Hall had spent most of the afternoon perfecting.

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