Page 3 of Tempted
“Hark at her,” said her brother Duncan, laughing. “Tend the hearth—she canna boil water.”
“Jesu, an’ a good thing or we’d all be poisoned,” Donal said, teasing.
“You have armor and weapons, claymores, swords, and dirks The knife I’m allowed is a pitiful thing compared to the weapon Duncan polishes day and night.”
“There’s no call tae bring my sex life into this,” Duncan murmured to his cousin, who howled at his wit.
“I heard that aside, Duncan Kennedy, which only helps prove my point. That’s another indulgence allowed men. The king holds the record for bastards, and the rest of you are in the running, except mayhap my wee brother Davie.”
David, at fourteen, bristled at her remark. His was the only fair head in that sea of flames. “Are ye tryin’ tae make me a laughingstock? I’m no’ without experience. Yer a right bitch of a sister!”
“See what I mean?” Tina asked, laughing. “Men brag about their conquests, which only bring sorrow and shame to women.”
An argument had broken out between Kennedy of Newark and Kennedy of Dunure. “Yer witless! The king no’ holds the record fer bastards. ‘Tis ma brother Keith,” he announced with pride.
“Yer daft, man! There isna a Kennedy breathin’ can compete wi’ the Stewarts when it comes tae bastards.”
His cousin gave him a shove that almost knocked him into the huge fireplace, and he came back in a rush with clenched fists flying. “I’ll flay ye!”
Donal and Duncan each grabbed a combatant with a strong arm beneath the throat, effectively ending the skirmish, but not before blood had been drawn. Duncan said, “Robert Stewart of Orkney has seventeen sons, none born in wedlock, an’ none tae the same mother.”
Donal said, “This is no fit subject tae be discussin’ wi’ the little firebrand.”
Now it was Tina’s turn to be angered. “Because I’m female, I can’t talk about bastards. I can’t drink, curse, fight, or go off on a raid with the rest of you.” A sudden unnatural silence fell on the gathering. Donal exchanged a furtive glance with Callum Kennedy, and immediately Tina scented something in the wind. She was wise, enough to keep her mouth shut, however.
To fill the silence Andrew Kennedy, Lord of Carrick, took Tina’s hand and said, “If ye’d accept one o’ the proposals ye receive, yer husband would bring ye all the pleasure a lass could yearn fer.”
A harsh voice, loud enough to raise the dead, cut through the conversation. “What’s this o’ proposals?” demanded Rob Kennedy, and once more the group of males parted, exposing Valentina to her father’s wrath.
“I—I said no when Andrew asked me to marry. I have no wish to marry,” she said faintly.
“No wish tae marry?” Rob Kennedy thundered, his face becoming a congested purple. His accusing eyes burned into her as if she had uttered an unspeakable blasphemy. “How many others have ye sent packing wi’ a flea in their ear?”
“N-none,” she whispered, and the brawny young men behind her with heads like torches coughed at the barefaced lie she gave her father.
“Every last one of ‘em in this room,” revealed Davie, “as well as Sandy Gordon last week.”
Duncan’s boot jabbed into Davie’s shin before he was effectively silenced, and Rob Kennedy looked as if he were about to have a seizure. “Ye turned down the Earl o’ Huntly’s heir?”
Lady Elizabeth and her younger daughter, Beth, chose this moment to arrive in the dining hall. Tina’s mother cast an apprehensive glance over the gathering and faltered. She wondered if she could stomach the Kennedys en masse. Rob outwardly ignored their arrival, but it made him put a curb on his outburst. “Attend me after dinner. God’s passion, but daughters can be a curse tae a man.”
Andrew Kennedy, feeling protective toward Valentina, asked her to sit with him. On her other side Donal warned, “Father’s right hot wi’ ye. It’ll pay tae use him softly.”
She gave them both a grateful smile. “I’ll handle Father,” she whispered with bravado, but it ruined her pleasure in the chocolate truffles that Mr. Burque had made especially for her, and the cursed tooth began its nagging ache again.
At the far end of the hall two women in their thirties dined at a table for the more important servants of Doon. The castle steward eyed the two nursemaids with relish. It was well known that the two women barely tolerated each other, and he could see that at any minute entertaining hostilities were about to break out between the foes.
Kirsty, a Scotswoman whose charge was Beth Kennedy, the younger, sweeter daughter, could not wipe the satisfied smirk from her face as she helped herself to the mutton pie She adjusted the severe neckline of her gown trimmed with vair and whispered almost gleefully, “Trouble! Trouble is Valentina Kennedy’s middle name.”
Ada, the Englishwoman Lady Kennedy had brought with her when she was but a girl, held on to her temper. Tina was her charge, but they were also friends and close confidantes. Ada was still an attractive woman who wore her hair in an upsweep to show off her long neck and dangling earbobs. “I warrant the poor animal which owned that mangy fur you’re wearing didn’t complain at losing it.”
“Och!” Kirsty cried, compressing her lips until they disappeared. “Ye’ve an insolent tongue. ‘Tis plain tae see where Flaming Tina gets it.”
“I freely admit I’ve taught her to stand up for herself. If you make a doormat of yourself, people will wipe their muddy boots on you in this world,” Ada said dryly.
Some of the smugness crept back into Kirsty’s face. “My lord is incensed this time. I have my doubts she’ll stand up tae him long.”
“Rob Kennedy will ride roughshod over any who will let him, but he admires guts, even in a woman. That’s something you’d know nothing about.”
