Page 62 of Wild Hearts

She held her head high in defiance and in clear, bell-like tones said, "I will not!"

The words pierced his heart. His eyes begged her not to reject him, but she defied him with every breath in her body.

The chaplain was at a loss, uncertain how to proceed:

A great heaviness lay upon Paris's chest that it would have to be a forced marriage. His resolve hardened. Paris took his dirk from his belt and laid it upon the altar. He looked the cleric directly in the eye and bellowed, "Are ye deaf? She answered in the affirmative." His manner was so threatening that the chaplain decided he had better solemnize the union. He lowered his eyes and rapidly said, "For as much as Paris and Tabrizia have pledged their troth before God, I pronounce that they be man and wife together."

Paris pushed his emerald ring upon her third finger and curved her hand so it could not fall off.

Tabrizia screamed her protests, but it was all in vain as both men pretended not to hear her.

The chaplain finally said, "It is customary to kiss the bride."

Tabrizia recoiled.. "You are a devil, and you, sir, are his disciple!"

Paris raked her with an insulting glance that traveled from her eyes to her mouth to her breasts and back up again. "I decline the kiss," he decided with a sneer. He picked up his dirk and replaced it in his belt.

A mixture of anger and fear made her lips tremble, and she thought she might faint. His green eyes froze her with such cold contempt that she stiffened her resolve and promised herself she would not be so weak as to faint at his feet. The thought was driven home to her that even if she ran from the chapel, shrieking her denials, it would all be in vain. She was truly wed to him, legal or no, bound inexorably, willing or not, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Her husband's deep voice at her ear made her jump. "Shall we go, Lady Cockburn?" he mocked as he hurried her out.

CHAPTER 14

Tabrizia felt his firm hand at the small of her back as he propelled her up the staircase that led from the chapel to the main entrance of Denmark House. The moment they stepped outside, a carriage drew up and she saw that its driver was none other than Jasper, with her trunk safely stowed at his side. She cast an accusing glance upon him that was so withering, he squirmed in his seat and looked away from her. Paris saw the exchange and explained, "Jasper is of my clan and owes allegiance only to the Cockburns."

She flared. "I am a Cockburn. My father set him the task of protecting me!"

"Until you were wed; then it became your husband's duty to protect you." His taunting smile hinted at what she could expect. He swept her into his arms and lifted her into the carriage, then swung in beside her. She made a move away from him, but she was too late, for already his weight had anchored the skirt of her gown and cloak, so she was forced to sit close to him. His thigh lay alongside hers on the carriage seat, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his powerful body.

She lowered her head and clasped her small hands together tightly, and as she did so, her eyes fell upon the ring. She averted her eyes and turned her head away from him. He chuckled at her attempts to ignore him.

"You will be pleased to learn that I dispatched a note to Magnus telling him of our plans, so he would not be worried for you."

"Our plans!" she gasped indignantly: "You mean, your plans. You would be wise to fear my father's wrath!"

She heard his confident, taunting laugh again. "Magnus will accept a fait accompli."

"Did you have the courage to inform Patrick of your plans for me?" she challenged, her fiery eyes burning him with hatred.

At mention of his rival's name, a flaming jealousy ran through him, eating him. "He has been informed," he answered. He did not tell her of the meeting that had taken place between the two men, nor of the ten thousand pounds he had paid Patrick Stewart to relinquish his claim upon her. He would never tell her, never hurt her so deeply.

As the carriage lurched to a stop, his arm came up to prevent her from being flung forward. As his hand accidently brushed against her breast, she blushed a deep pink, shrinking from his touch. He uttered an oath beneath his breath and got out of the carriage. As he turned to assist her, she spat, "Don't touch me!" As though he had not heard her, his strong arms lifted her to his side. She noted with satisfaction that he had indeed heard her, for the muscles of his jaw were tense with anger.

She saw that they were at a place where many ships lay at anchor. She gave a fleeting thought to what lay ahead of her. So far her anger had kept the darkling fear off, but she knew the moment approached when they would be alone in his cabin, and she began to tremble. He noticed immediately and drew her furs more snugly about her, before urging her along the dock and onto the gangplank of the Sea Witch.

On deck a dark figure spoke up. "Half an hour till the tide turns, Captain."

Paris growled in her ear, "That should be long enough." He closed the cabin door behind them and turned up the lamps to bathe them in a rosy glow.

Her head shot up defiantly. "Long enough for what?"

He regarded her steadily with icy green eyes. "Long enough for me to lay the law down to you, madam." His quiet tone was more menacing than if he had shouted. "You may have some time to yourself while I navigate the Sea Witch from the Thames estuary into the Atlantic. When I return, this marriage will be consummated, and consummated well!" His eyed fastened, on her breasts, went lower, then held her glance with a hypnotic stare. "I will put my brand upon you once. Then I will leave you in peace." He would leave no loopholes. He would consummate the marriage this night to eliminate any chance of annulment. That she could possibly prefer another man caused him such pain, he felt a driving need to taunt her. "Don't worry, after tonight I will take my pleasure elsewhere since I prefer not one but many women. All I need do is lift an eyebrow and women are eager to gallop upstairs with me."

"To be left in peace is all I ask," she managed to say.

"I will leave you alone on one condition. When we arrive home, you will never, by look nor word, let the family or the servants know that there is anything wrong between us. I will not be a laughingstock! You will play the role of the devoted, loving wife in their presence. How we treat each other behind our locked bedroom door is another matter. Save your wrath until we are in private, that is all I demand." He turned on his heel and left her to digest his rules.

Her legs would not support her, so she sank to the bed to sort out her thoughts and feelings. They were man and wife, but they were bitter enemies, each ready to goad the other to madness, yet he had meant it when he forbade her to goad him in front of the family. How would she be able to live a life .of pretense? She paled; there was this night still to be gotten through, why was she worrying about her tomorrows? She jumped as a knock came upon the door. One of Paris's men, whom she did not recognize, carried in her trunk and left immediately. She hung up her beautiful sable cloak and knelt to open the trunk. With trembling fingers she unhooked the latches and lifted out her toilet articles. She carried them over to the magnificent black-and-red-lacquered cabinet that-stood in the corner. As she glanced up into the mirror she saw wide, frightened eyes staring back at her beneath the majestic coronet. Slowly, she raised her hands to divest herself of the crown, now so inappropriate.

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