Page 36 of Tempted
“See what I mean about the name Archibald? Meggie Campbell is incapable of flaunting herself.” Her eyes lit with amusement again. “While I …” She let her words trail away, and Patrick finished her sentence “While ye attract every man from sixteen to sixty. Damn, the hall is crowded tonight. As soon as the meat is ready, there will be such an undignified rush for seats, I think I’d best go and secure ours, or we’ll find ourselves below the salt.”
“That would never do for the admiral’s son.” She laughed.
“Nor his betrothed,” he murmured low.
Her eyebrows rose at his presumption, but she was far from displeased that he was beginning to commit to a serious relationship. Suddenly she stiffened as a pair of very possessive hands squeezed her waist and a beautifully modulated voice said from behind, “Honey love, slip away before the play is done, and I’ll join you in bed as soon as I can get away.”
With an angry retort upon her lips she swung about and looked into the face of an extremely handsome man with dark auburn hair and beard. The king’s hazel eyes widened as he realized the lady was not his mistress, Janet Kennedy. “I beg yer pardon, my lady. I mistook ye for another.”
At that moment the other radiant redhead appeared at his elbow, and the women’s resemblance was so marked that they all laughed and knew each other’s identities immediately
“You could only be Lady Valentina Kennedy,” the king said, kissing her hand.
“And you could only be the king.” She curtsied gracefully and with mock innocence asked, “Your Grace, does that mean your invitation is withdrawn?”
His hazel eyes held warm admiration mixed with the secret amusement they alone shared. “Nay, it is an open invitation that will stand through the years.” James introduced her to Janet, who was thicker than Tina through the middle, but no man’s eyes would ever notice with her nipples deliciously exposed and painted red like two ripe cherries. James excused himself to join the queen on the dais and murmured to Janet, “Later.”
A pair of pewter eyes across the room had watched as the king laid familiar hands upon Valentina Kennedy. It merely confirmed what he had always known—that Kennedy women were whores, he thought with contempt. As the tall, slim figure of Patrick Hamilton claimed Tina Kennedy, Ram Douglas felt pity for his enemy. He’d be wearing horns before he was even a bridegroom. He had no idea he was the third man to think of a horning within minutes of glancing at the honeypot.
Janet joined her Kennedy cousin and Patrick Hamilton, surprised that coarse Rob Kennedy had bred such a dazzling creature. She remarked upon it: “The contrast between the men and women of Clan Kennedy never ceases to amaze me.”
Tina’s eyes swept over her brother Donal’s barrel-chest and sparse carroty hair, then they passed over her father’s coarse, ruddy person and on to the Kennedy chief, Archibald, Earl of Cassillis. She repressed a shudder and smiled at Janet’s radiant beauty.
Janet said, “I remember your aunt Damaris at her wedding. I was only a young girl at the time, but I was quite overcome with envy for her delicate beauty and for that sinfully handsome Alex Douglas.”
Both women thought of Damaris’s death, and Janet, on a sigh, said softly, “He was a man to die for.”
Tina almost said something about the degenerate Douglas men, then bethought herself that Janet had been mistress to the Douglas chief and shuddered instead.
Patrick put an arm about her shoulders. “Surely yer not cold in this crowd?”
She arched her brows at his familiar hand, and he removed it with a murmured apology. He knew better than to treat her like one of the easy ladies of the court.
Janet and Tina had instantly decided there would be no rivalry between them. They were fast friends upon the briefest acquaintance, and Tina spoke quite intimately with Janet, who filled her in regarding half the people at court.
“Is it true that the king wears an iron belt of remorse because he feels guilt over his father’s death?” Tina asked.
Janet’s lips tightened momentarily. “‘Tis true, though I rail against the obscene thing. ‘Tis so heavy, it would cripple any other man.” She leaned closer. “I do talk him out of wearing it to bed since I’ve been with him. Hell’s teeth, ‘tis penance enough to have to live in Edinburgh Castle and be wed to Margaret Tudor!”
After the meal, while the court remained seated at table, the play began. Valentina was caught up with the novelty of it all, when suddenly the gnarled Argyll, resplendent in his black bearskin, confused the actors with reality and joined the argument and the swordfighting. The king and the more sophisticated of his courtiers were helpless with laughter until it became apparent that Argyll was going to dispatch the actors with his mighty swordarm.
The Earl of Angus directed his son, young Archibald Douglas, to get Argyll under control and explain matters to him, a formidable task that the faint at heart would not attempt. Douglas did a creditable job of controlling Argyll, and the assembly applauded him with many a ribald comment about Lord Bleary.
Janet said, “There is something splendid about Douglas men.” She was not looking at the young Master of Angus, however, but at his powerful father, the highest earl in the land. Valentina could see she was still half in love with him.
Janet sighed and arose. “It is time for me to withdraw, I think. I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Perhaps we could ride together.”
As the tables were cleared away for dancing, Patrick Hamilton presented Tina to the queen. Though her face and figure were heavy and plain, her gown was not. It was black velvet, embroidered all over with white silken Tudor roses whose centers were diamonds, pearls, and rubies. As Tina went down before her, Queen Margaret looked her over, saw no array of jewels, and decided she was no rival. She chose to overlook the fact that the girl’s face and hair were adornment more radiant than any jewels.
“Lady Valentina, how sweet of you to honor me by wearing my green and white Tudor colors.”
Tina had not been aware of it until the queen pointed it out The queen continued, “Your dear mother is English, of course. That is why you have such pretty manners and a cultured voice. This is Nan Howard,” said the queen, introducing her lady-in-waiting. Beside the queen’s sallowness, the Howard girl looked like a flower from an English rose garden. She was all lovely round curves with golden hair and blue eyes, yet the look she cast Tina was most unlovely. It was sullen, in fact, which was puzzling until Valentina saw her glance at Patrick Hamilton with accusation in her eyes.
Tina was almost amused. She negligently shrugged one pretty shoulder before she turned away from the girl to be introduced to her father Lord Howard, Earl of Surrey, was acting as ambassador to Scotland at the moment. He was a close confidant of the queen and acted as secret liaison between Margaret Tudor and her brother Henry, the new all-powerful king of England. Howard’s daughters had inherited his blond hair and fine English skin, which gave him a youthful appearance, belying his almost fifty years.
Howard raised Valentina’s fingers to his lips and made her an elegant leg. Though dressed in the height of fashion, his clothes were in impeccable taste. The contrast between Howard and the Scots nobles clearly showed he was from a more civilized culture. He was no fop, however. He had a military bearing and had commanded forces for the old Tudor king when he was alive. “Lady Valentina, may I tell you that you are more breathtaking than your mother? In my youth I spent time in Carlisle, and I admit freely that Elizabeth broke my heart when she married Robert Kennedy.”
Tina rewarded him with a smile, thinking how nice it would be to have a father with such polished manners.
