Page 57 of Wild Hearts

"Then I will teach you," he claimed hoarsely. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her slowly, thoroughly. His hand fell to her waist, and he drew her closer to fit her body against his. In his warm embrace, she began to relax and allowed herself to respond to his kiss. His kiss deepened, then; as he withdrew his mouth, she breathed, "Paris." She had been so lost in the moment, the name had come unbidden to her lips. She caught her breath as he moved away, yet he gave no sign that he had heard her whisper another man's name. The face that had appeared when she closed her eyes frightened her. She was determined to blot it out. "Let's settle things tonight, Patrick."

"'Tis already settled, isn't it?" he asked slowly.

She smoothed her hair and stood up to face him. "That all depends if you will accept me on my terms."

"Which are?" he asked.

"That I be allowed to keep half of my own money in my name. If we find a year from now we are unhappy and do not suit, you will allow me to set up my own establishment."

"I accept your terms gladly. I have some of my own you will find strange. The Queen must not learn of our betrothal. Her affection for me is the only thing that keeps the King's hand from my throat!'

"She is in love with you?" demanded Tabrizia.

He looked deeply into her eyes and said evenly, "Jealousy is an emotion neither of us can afford."

She flushed as she realized he referred to the name she had whispered.

"My time may be short here, depending on the mood of the King. If he should make charges against me, I must leave swiftly. Be prepared to exchange vows on very short notice. Pack your things in-readiness to take aboard my ship."

"It shall be as you wish, my lord."

He arose to leave but took her in his arms before he departed. "Tabrizia, I won't be able to dance attendance upon you in public, but be assured that you have all my thoughts, all my heart."

She went on tiptoe to brush her lips lightly upon his "Patrick, do you know what I like best about you? You don't swagger!"

"I don't need to. I am a Stewart."

CHAPTER 13

The New Year was celebrated with a frenzied round of balls and banquets, then five days later the Queen was planning a Twelfth-Night celebration for her intimates. As well as dancing and the exchange of silly gifts and baubles, the Queen planned to indulge her passion for gambling. Anne was shrewd enough to know if she set up card tables, it brought the men flocking to her salon.

Frances Howard had just helped Tabrizia fasten the back of her favorite lavender velvet and was exclaiming over the exquisite amethysts she had selected to go with it when there was a single knock upon the door. Tabrizia cautiously lifted the bar to find Jasper, who handed her a note and left as silently as he had arrived. She scanned the contents quickly.

My love,

I cannot attend the Queen's Court before midnight, but I shall come in time to give you a Twelfth-Night bauble and to relieve the Queen of some of the jewels she gambles away so recklessly. I count the hours.

P.

She traced the large initial with a loving finger and tucked the note into her jewel casket before they went below.

As Pembroke led her out in the dance, Tabrizia hugged the knowledge of her secret betrothal to her as he flirted outrageously and she responded in the light manner that kept him at a distance. It was the Gay Gaillard, the most exciting of all the dances, in which one continually changed partners, and the men lifted the ladies high into the air in a graceful arc.

Tabrizia was laughingly responding to a naughty suggestion by her partner as he relinquished her to the next man when she was swung higher into the air than she had ever been before. As she looked clown to identify her partner, she gazed into the fierce eyes of Paris Cockburn. For the span of a moment the world stopped, then the room swung dizzyingly around her. As her feet touched the floor again, she swayed in his arms and gasped, "No!"

As his hands reached to steady her, she recoiled in horror. He had grown a beard since they had last met, and it made him more threatening and frightening than ever before. Her hand flew to her head to still the dizziness, and he mocked, "Too much wine? That damnable spirit that doth enter our mouths to steal our brain."

She gasped, regaining a little of her composure but only a little: "How dare you, sir, insinuate that I have been drinking!"

"No such thing." He flashed his wolf's grin. "I was merely quoting from Othello, knowing you have a fondness for poetry."

"I loathe the stuff!" she flared, and was instantly swept away by her next partner. For the next hour she remained seated for fear her legs would not support her. She was surrounded by all her admirers— Pembroke, Stephen Galbraith and Charles Percy— and though she responded enchantingly to them, she did not hear one word spoken to her. Though she willed them not to, her eyes kept straying to that elegant, wide-shouldered rogue who swaggered before the Queen. She and her maids-of-honor made much of him, as if renewing an acquaintance that was overly familiar and intimate.

Her thoughts were in chaos, and she longed for Patrick to appear to stabilize her world turned upside down. Why was Cockburn here? What was he up to? Her heart slowed to the speed of a triphammer as she decided his reasons could have nothing to do with her, because he ignored her with a total indifference.

When the men distributed their favors, it was traditional that they receive a kiss. She received a huge paper rose from Stephen, a gilt cage with a sugared mouse inside from Pembroke, and a clove-studded pomander from Charles Percy. She exchanged kisses upon the cheek and let out a great sigh as Patrick came across the room toward her. She gave him her prettiest smile as he handed her a box tied up with ribbons. She was enchanted with the gift he had brought her. It was a glass sphere with a couple riding in a sleigh. He showed her that when she turned it upside down and back again, it created a snowstorm. It occurred to her that this was the first toy she had ever had. She lifted her face for his kiss, and he bent his head to taste the honeyed sweetness of her lips. He whispered, "I came to you without first greeting the Queen. Now I must go and receive my punishment."

She let him go. She knew if they spent time together it would cause comment. It was enough that they were in the same room. Almost, she felt safe. She watched with slight alarm as Patrick and Paris sat down together at the Queen's card table. The Queen sat with a pile of jewels to hand out, and if she lost to a gentleman, she selected one and gave it to him. She saw Paris refuse a Jewel for the third time, and when the Queen pressed him to declare what he wanted, he bent and whispered into her ear. The Queen laughed and beckoned a Danish maid-of-honor. As Paris arose from the table to greet her, a pain slashed at Tabrizia's heart, and she fled to the sanctity of her own chamber. She was exhausted, but as sleep claimed her, she began to dream. She was pursued and caught by one man after another. Some were swarthy as gypsies, others blond as Vikings. They did not frighten her overmuch, because she knew she could escape. The last man to catch her terrified her. He had flaming red hair, and she knew there was no escape. She came up from the pillows trembling and crying out, "Paris!"

---