Page 7 of Wild Hearts

"For Christ's sake, Venetia, you're like a dog worrying a bone. Let be!" said Paris shortly.

"But why can't we?" she insisted.

Exasperated, Paris explained, "You have put your finger on the reason. Magnus goes to the expense of keeping a town house all year round. You are free to use it whenever you have invitations into Edinburgh. How many times in a whole summer does that add up to? Three? Four?"

"Magnus only keeps it for the convenience of his whore," Shannon remarked in her blunt way.

Paris turned on her. "He has lived with Margaret Sinclair fifteen years; when will you stop referring to her as a whore?"

"When he puts a wedding ring on her finger," stated Venetia.

"She could have rings on every finger and every toe, and she'd still be a whore," stated Shannon flatly.

Alexandria said to her twin brother in a low voice, "I'll bet Paris uses Magnus's town house for whoring."

Paris said in a voice that was quietly dangerous, "Repeat that, Alexandria."

"I said that I absolutely refuse to go to the McDonald's tatty old ball!" she asserted stubbornly.

The brothers and sisters exchanged unbelieving glances as they burst into uproarious laughter. Paris wiped a tear from his eye.. "By God, Alexandria, you are the best liar of the bunch."

"An achievement worthy of a Cockburn." Alexander bowed in homage to his twin.

As Paris looked about the room, he realized that Damascus, Shannon. and Venetia were anticipating the ball because they were ready for husbands. Alexandria, at fifteen, wasn't quite interested yet. He shook his head in disbelief. They'd grown into women while he'd been preoccupied with the bloody Gordons. "Damascus, who brought the invitation? Why didn't you bring him up for refreshments?" questioned Paris.

"It was Jean's brother, young Scotty McDonald.

Troy was pouring him some of your contraband brandy down in the barracks when I left."

"Good God, the men will polish off the whole lot. You know they lave hollow legs with sponges in their boots! Half that brandy is promised in Edinburgh at five hundred percent profit!"

The ball was an excuse to announce the betrothal of Jean McDonald, so it turned out. They had been friends with the McDonalds since childhood. When the Cockburn sisters learned of the approaching nuptials, they were green with envy. They liked to be first in everything, and a childhood friend snaring a husband before one of them was not something they had expected.

Paris was annoyed that after he'd taken the trouble to escort his sisters to the damned ball in the first place, they sniped at him every time they passed him. He talked Douglas, the eldest McDonald brother, into escaping with him to famous Ainslee's Tavern on High Street. They went straight through to the private dining room in the rear, where Scotland's young nobility idled away its leisure hours. Cockburn wasn't at all surprised to see both Lord Lennox and Lord Logan with a great many of his other friends.

"Rogue, over here, Your Lordship," shouted Logan, and made room for him at the table.

Paris grinned "We escaped from an engagement party."

"Ah, weddings are in the air this season," said Lord Lennox. "Is this the lucky bridegroom?"

"No," said Douglas McDonald, "my sister, Marrying a Stewart."

"I'm a Stewart!" exclaimed Lennox. "Cousin to the King and Bothwell. We will be related, then." He smiled.

"Christ, we're all related— all descended from kings Although God knows that's no recommendation. I usually try to keep it quiet." Paris laughed.

David Lennox was extremely tall and fair and looked every inch the-gentleman when compared with his friend Logan, whose looks and manners were more rugged and earthy. At the moment Logie had obviously made-enough inroads on a bottle of whisky to make him philosophize. "Did you ever notice how one wedding will start a chain reaction? Sort of spreads like a disease?"

"Bloody fools," remarked Paris. "No woman is worth giving up your freedom for."

"Oh, I don't know, Rogue. Take your sister Damascus— a more tempting morsel I never set eyes on," claimed David Lennox.

"Is she the one with the beautiful big breasts?" Logan laughed.

"No, that's my sister Shannon; you coarse lout. I'll thank you to keep your bloody mind off my sister's breasts," growled Paris, only half joking.

"I'll bet she's rewarding in bed," Logan said. dreamily.

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