Page 9 of Tempted
As the sails filled and the floodtide rapidly carried the ship out to sea every face showed signs of relief. Davie yawned behind his hand and Tina teased, “I’m amazed you dragged yourself out of bed to do your filial duty.”
“Christ, I had tae see the back o’ him wi’ ma ain eyes. He’s done nothin’ but lecture me aboot carnal appetites o’ the flesh. The old lecher makes me puke!”
Tina murmured to Donal, “David’s not himself this afternoon.”
“Davie is exactly himself. He’s a vicious wee bastard at the best o’ times,” Donal said, thinking of the young prostitute David had abused at the brothel last night.
Tina didn’t take Donal’s criticism of her youngest brother seriously. When they were little, there had been a strong bond between her and Davie. The older brothers had never included him in their hell-raising because the birth of the two Kennedy daughters had separated him from them in age, and Davie had been relegated to playing with the girls. Tina, a few years his senior, had always protected him from life’s knocks and disappointments. She’d always stood up for him against the others, but lately he had distanced himself from her and was bent on proving himself a man. To her he was still a boy, his slim build a long way from the brawn of the older, rougher Kennedy men. She would make an effort to stop mothering him.
Tina fell behind the others to walk with her sister Beth as the group of young people walked along the shore. Beth whispered, “I’m glad Mother didn’t insist I go to England with her.” She glanced shyly at the rugged-looking Andrew Kennedy, then blushed profusely.
Tina followed her sister’s glance and smiled to herself.
“He never notices me,” whispered Beth.
“That’s because you never do anything to draw his attention,” pointed out Tina. “Do something—do something right now!” Tina ordered.
Beth, afraid to, yet afraid not to, bent and picked up a pretty pink scallop shell and quickened her pace to catch up with Andrew. She summoned all her courage. “Lord Carrick,” she said breathlessly, “see the shell I just found”
Andrew glanced down at the small blond girl and said absently, “Very pretty, dear.”
Beth’s steps faltered, and Tina came up beside her. “Men aren’t interested in pretty shells, Beth.”
“What does interest them?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Tina laughed. “You can always count on two things” But instead of blurting out money and sex, she said, “A man would get excited about a gold doubloon on the sand, or a moonlight swim with a naked lass.”
Beth went white with shock.
Tina said, “Don’t take everything so seriously. Men like to laugh. Listen to how rowdy they are. It takes a special talent to draw their attention from men’s affairs and hold that attention. Let me show you.” The light of challenge made Tina’s eyes sparkle. She took off her shoes and stockings and kilted up her skirts to display a delicious length of bare legs, and the men moved toward her like steel filings attracted to a lodestone. When their remarks and suggestions became risqué, she kicked cold water over them, and Beth looked on in amazement that they didn’t retreat because of the drenching they risked but instead became more daring in their antics, pushing and shoving each other like rams locking their horns over an ewe. Valentina managed to chase them away, like a queen banishing them from her presence. She sat down upon a rock to put on her shoes, stuffing her hose into her pocket.
“Tina, why don’t I take supper in your chamber so we can spend the evening together?” Beth suggested hopefully.
Tina looked at her blankly. “Tonight is Beltane—I’m off and away.” Beth’s face fell. “Come with me!” Tina invited generously.
“Heavens, no! Aren’t you afraid?” Beth cried.
“Only a tiny bit, but that’s what makes it exciting, like going to the graveyard at midnight or bathing in the waters of Black Loch naked.”
“Kirsty said you were wicked,” confided Beth, beginning to believe it.
“Did she?” Tina asked, sounding inordinately pleased. “I’d rather be wicked than frightened as a rabbit. There’s nothing to fear. Heath’s back. He’ll look after me.”
Beth flinched and wrinkled her nose. “That ragtag Gypsy?”
“That ragtag Gypsy is more man than any woman could wish for in her wildest dreams.” But Tina admitted to herself, she was relieved that Beth didn’t want to come. She brushed the lovely blond strands of hair from Beth’s face and nodded toward the group of attractive red-headed men. “They’ll all be gone tomorrow. They only came to bring their wool for export. I want you to dine in the hall tonight. Wear your prettiest gown.”
By early afternoon, Hotspur Douglas had been in the saddle eight hours, and before dusk fell he would be in the Highlands in the magnificent Grampian Mountains. To cover this great distance in so short a time, he had taken an extra saddle horse and alternated between the two sturdy mounts. At five in the morning he had shaken awake one of his men and thrust the Gypsy girl into his arms with orders to return her to her valley. Then he had chosen two of his fleetest moss-troopers and told them that by dark tomorrow night, they would have the herd they were going to fetch, back at Douglas.
The wild, unbroken horses had been brought up in the northern forests so they could withstand cold and severe weather. They could run a dozen leagues without food. These sure-footed garrons were preferred by border mosstroopers who had to patrol endless miles of wild, wide-open rugged carse and moors. The Douglas stables boasted more than their share of blooded, well-fed stallions. Ram’s favorite mount was a black brute that stood more than nineteen hands high. It amused him to call the animal Ruffian, a most misleading misnomer. He could vault into the saddle totally ignoring the stirrups, and many would-be imitators had come a cropper trying to master the trick, especially wearing heavy chain mail.
Ram Douglas had as sharp an eye for a horse as he did for a woman, and he soon cut the choicest mares and sturdy stallions from the herd. He left the foals with their dams to run free another year and laughed when the dominant stud stallion tried to attack him for stealing his mares. There was no way he was going to take him south to a possible gelding. Ram pulled a bullwhip from his belt and cracked it in the air whenever the stallion approached, and he shouted, laughing, “Get the hell away! If ye follow yer mares, ye’ll lose yer balls!”
These Highland forests were alive with wolves, boar, and wild bulls, and Ram itched to hunt, but he promised himself not to indulge unless a beast crossed his path and threatened the herd. His instincts told him not to be absent from Douglas for any length of time, for it would be just like the bloody Hamiltons to pick this time to mount a raid, whoremongering cowards that they were.
When he returned, he would send his brother Gavin south to Castle Douglas with at least half the herd. The castle at the town of Douglas, which was often dubbed Castle Dangerous, was not to be confused with the massive stronghold of Castle Douglas, which lay deep in the borders, forty miles to the south.
When Beth Kennedy took her blue velvet gown from the wardrobe, Kirsty was alerted. “I think it best ye dine in yer chamber with me, since yer parents are no’ in residence and the castle is full o’ rough men.”
