Page 68 of Wild Hearts

James grinned. "'Tis the beard," he decided, fingering his own dark chin.

Paris told him he had seen the King about the garrisons and that they were fact not rumor, but, the King had hinted at Scots soldiers rather than English. He also related how he had been ordered to sign a peace bond and then been banished from court-because of the fight with John Gordon.

"How much time do you think you will have before you are forced to sign the bond?" asked James.

Paris shrugged. "I know it is inevitable in the end. I don't think there will be any pressure brought to bear until John Gordon leaves court and returns north."

The two friends looked at each other, and James's teeth showed in a wolfish grin. "Are ye thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we should hit them and hit them hard before the bond is signed?"

"Two minds with but a single thought," agreed Douglas

Paris took out maps. "If I hit the Gordons, it won't be the villages on the fringes of their lands, it will be at Huntly Castle."

"As I see it, the problem is that it has to be soon, yet the mountain passes are still blocked with snow."

Paris pointed to the map. "I'll sail up to Aberdeen in the Sea Witch. That's just a short ride from the very heart of Huntly," he said with relish.

"I'm coming, too," said Douglas with a finality with which Paris couldn't argue.

"I'll get Magnus to lend us the Ambrosia. I'm expecting to see his sails any day. We'll each take a hundred men and horses. A force of two hundred strong should put the fear of God into the bloody Gordons."

"Surprise is our strength. We should be able to outfight them or outwit them," assured the Black Douglas.

Paris said with scorn, "They haven't the brains to pour piss out of their boots if the instructions were written on the heels!"

The food was ready to be served, but there was no sign of Paris or the guest of honor. Tabrizia wore her favorite lavender velvet, and Shannon was in a deeper shade of purple with full bishop sleeves. Damascus had again won the argument over who got to wear green, and she stood tapping her small foot in annoyance. "I don't believe men are even aware that it is rude to keep ladies waiting. They should be told about it."

"It is a dangerous occupation telling men what to do, I've found out recently:" Tabrizia laughed ruefully.

"Uncouth louts," complained Shannon. "I'll go and round them up," she decided firmly, rising from the dining table.

She made her way to the barracks where their own men were quartered. The men's dining hall held a score of strange moss-troopers, all with the red heart of Douglas emblazoned on their doublets. They all looked their fill of the redheaded beauty who swept amongst them. Without ceremony she threw open the door to the gun room and stepped across the threshold. She stopped dead as she saw the dark giant bending over the map table. As he straightened up, their gaze met and held. She lifted her head as a doe in the forest would to catch the scent prior to fleeing from danger, but she was held mesmerized, fascinated. The Black Douglas, oblivious to everything but the magnificent female before him, drank in her beauty with an insatiable thirst. Dressed in black velvet with the heart of Douglas pricked out in real diamonds, he was a compelling and magnetic sight.

She was drawn toward him almost against her will. His teeth flashed white in his dark beard. "Shannon?"

"My Lord Douglas?" she breathed raggedly, holding out her hand.

"James," he insisted, never once taking his eyes from her. He took both her hands in his, and his body's electricity passed into hers, making her shiver deliciously. Still holding her hands, he swept around to Paris. "I am formally requesting your sister's hand in marriage. Draw up the contracts. Any terms you want!"

Paris had been watching his sister closely. "Shannon... ?" he began seriously.

She could not trust her voice to speak. She nodded her assent. Her blushes deepened with pleasure and she could not hide her agitation from the men in the room.

Paris laughed. "James, you are so direct. When do you wish the wedding to take place?"

"I wish it could be tonight," he answered bluntly.

"Did you come to call us to dinner, Shannon?" asked Paris, delighted with the turn of events.

She curtsied prettily before her husband-to-be. "We await your pleasure, milord."

When she walked into the dining room, with eyes wide and lips gone pale, she told them, "I am betrothed! I am to be married to my Lord Douglas."

"The Black Douglas?" Damascus shuddered.

"Shannon, you won't be able to twist him around your little finger as you do Logie. He will be lord and master of his own castles," warned Alexandria.

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