Page 55 of Wild Hearts

He let her get no farther. "I shall provide safe escort to your door, mistress."

Warily, she watched him leave the coach first; then, utterly assured, he reached up and lifted her down beside him. She saw that a small scar upon his cheek lifted one corner of his mouth in a permanent smile, and he wore his mustache long to conceal it.

In that instant she knew that she liked him. In spite of his commanding ways and air of total authority, she felt that he was sensitive, perhaps even vulnerable. They walked along silently, side by side, up the main staircase and along the narrow corridor that took them to Tabrizia's small chamber. As he brought her hand to his lips in a gallant gesture, she murmured breathlessly, "Thank you, milord, you have been very kind."

He looked down into the dark, violet pools and said, "I could be kinder." That was all. He did not even ask her name.

The next morning Tabrizia visited her father and found him in fine fettle. He had been enjoying the rare sport of hare hunting at the King's new estate of Royston. There, he had heard that word had quickly spread that the Earl of Ormistan had a daughter who was in the market for a husband, and that as well as being an heiress to her father's estate, she was wealthy in her own right, from a previous marriage.

"I hope you are able to stay for a few days. I've had offers for you, and we must sit down and seriously consider them. Sort the wheat from the chaff, so to speak."

Tabrizia was startled. "Who has offered so quickly?"

"Ha, they know they have to be quick or the prize will be snatched from under their noses." Magnus laughed. "Let's see, there's Lord Mounteagle, and Charles Percy, both English; and Sir Harry Lindsay, master of the Queen's household, a worthy Scot like myself." She was disappointed that Pembroke had not offered for her, but he had warned her fairly that he did not seek a wife. "None of these gentlemen has approached me. I don't even know who they are."

"I should think not, and none will until I give them leave to court you."

"Then how can I decide?" she asked, perplexed.

"We shall do some entertaining so that you can meet and consider these men, and if you allow me to guide you, how can you go wrong?"

She smiled and knew he was back to playing his favorite role of leader. "Who is Lord Mounteagle?"

"A wealthy English peer and landowner. The only drawback is he's Catholic. Still, he's definitely worth considering. Then there's Sir Charles Percy. He's brother to Northumberland. The Percys are one of England's oldest, richest and most powerful families."

"Oh, now I know who he is. My friend Frances Howard is betrothed to Northumberland. I should like to have Frances for my sister."

"Then there's young Harry Lindsay. He's a Scot, and that's in his favor. He could rise high here at Court. He won't stop at master of the Queen's household if I know aught of the ambitious Lindsays. Still, all in all, I'd say the best choice is Percy. Charles Percy. Shall we invite him?"

"If that is the way things are done, then by all means invite him to sup with us, and we shall dissect the poor devil between courses." She paused and searched her father's face seriously. "There is no great hurry for me to decide definitely, is there?"

"Of course not. We'll give it six months. If you've found no one who suits you by summer, we'll return home."

During the next few days, Tabrizia grew tired of smiling. They entertained each of her suitors, and the subject of marriage came up tentatively. It was apparent that what it all boiled down to was the size of the marriage portion. Frances Howard, excited at the prospect that they could become sisters-in-law, advised her to offer a larger dowry as the Percys were extremely avaricious though masqueraded as anything but.

Tabrizia liked Sir Harry Lindsay best. He was a plain-faced young man with wide shoulders, a strong Scots accent, and he had a hearty sense of humor. Tabrizia agreed to accompany Sir Charles Percy to see a new play by Ben Jonson, the Queen's newest playwright, if Northumberland and Frances Howard made up a foursome. It was great fun, and the ladies carried eye masks on long sticks to cover their faces while out in public. She returned to Magnus with many praises for the play but few for Percy.

Magnus had news to impart. "This afternoon I had a visit from the Earl of Orkney. You remember him from the investiture?"

"How could I forget?" she asked, a small curl of excitement tightening in her stomach.

"What he had to say was most interesting. Come and be comfy, and I'll tell you all about it. Patrick Stewart has come to Court to make advantageous marriages for his brothers. He makes no bones about the fact that they need money, which is refreshingly honest; at least. He is building two great fortifications— a palace at Kirkwall and a castle at Scalloway. He rules the Orkney and the Shetland Islands and is obviously setting up a kingdom of his own. They are royal Stewarts, and though he is prevented from taking the throne by his illegitimacy, he has a throne in his own kingdom. He has seven brothers, one of whom is already married and two who are too young to wed. That leaves four brothers to choose from. He seeks an heiress for each and hopes to secure you for the eldest brother if you are interested."

She smiled a dreamy, secret smile. "The answer, I think, is no, but I should like the pleasure of delivering it myself, if you would be good enough to summon him tomorrow."

"Think you a royal Stewart would answer a summons from me?" Magnus asked dubiously.

"If he needs money badly enough, he just might." She laughed. "Mrs. Hall, where are you? Do you suppose we could resurrect the pale green gown with the silver ribbons I wore to the-wedding last week?"

"Och, child, 'tis already cleaned and pressed and hanging in yer wardrobe upstairs, but do ye think it suitable for an afternoon caller?"

"You've been listening again." Tabrizia laughed.

"And don't ye think I have a right to listen, you bein' like my own child?"

Tabrizia kissed her fondly. "What would I do without you?"

The next afternoon Tabrizia spotted Patrick Stewart from her bedroom window. As he came from Denmark House, she noticed that he was accompanied by his brother, a younger version of himself. They wore sober black velvet with snowy stocks, the inevitable stag hounds following at their heels.

---