Page 91 of Tempted
“Who is he?” Tina asked.
“Ah, therein lies the mystery. One day rumor has it that it’s the admiral himself. Next day, it’s the king’s cousin, the Earl o’ Lennox. The bettin’ is rife, an’ the odds-on favorite at the moment is Bothwell wreakin’ revenge.”
Tina’s hand flew to her mouth. “Black Ram Douglas,” she whispered.
“What about him?” Davie asked.
“Lord Vengeance is Black Ram Douglas! He changed the name of the Valentina to the Revenge!”
“Don’t let yer imagination carry ye away, Firebrand.”
“No, Davie, I’m serious. He’s brought six English vessels he captured to sell here in Ayr.”
David masked his thoughts. Then he began to gently ridicule her. “This Lord Vengeance risks his neck tae do good deeds. He’s someone with a great sense of social justice who gives tae the poor an’ rights the wrongs done them. It’s someone valiant and kind and soft-hearted who puts others afore himself. Does that sound like Douglas?”
“No.” She laughed. “Lord Vengeance would give his ships to the king for the protection of Scotland—he wouldn’t sell them to line his pockets.”
Rob Kennedy, in a smart new French-cut doublet, came up on deck. “Well, lass, I’m off. I’ll join ye fer breakfast afore Douglas steals ye away again.”
“Good night, Father.”
“I’m off too,” David said with a wink. “I’ve business of ma ain needs attention.”
Valentina stood at the taffrail for a long time after the two Kennedys departed. The more she thought of Ram Douglas, the more she became convinced that he could be Lord Vengeance. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut in front of Davie. If it was true, it was incriminating information.
When Tina awoke, she was swept with a wave of nausea. She groaned. “I swear, rocking at anchor all night is ten times worse than riding out a storm.” She struggled into her clothes and joined her father. She watched him eat a hearty breakfast, her face as pale as his porridge. She denied to herself that she might be with child, and yet an inner voice whispered, it had been ages since she’s had her woman’s courses.
“Ye know, lass, there are some people who are smart, an’ some people who are smarter. Ram Douglas knows the secret of makin’ gold. The king should give up his alchemy experiments of heatin’ quicksilver tae produce gold, an’ hire Ram Douglas tae do the job fer him.”
Tina did not want her father to know she was suffering nausea, so she concentrated on the conversation. “In other words, he sold you a ship?”
“Two of ‘em,” he confirmed. “Arran bought two fer the navy, an’ the others went tae O’Malley, an Irish shipping magnate who was in port frae Innisfana.” He looked at her keenly as she sipped some watered wine. “Douglas seems right fond o’ ye, lass. Says he’s takin’ ye tae Glasgow fer a new wardrobe afore he takes ye tae court in Edinburgh.” He hesitated, then asked the question that had been plaguing him ever since the hand-fasting. “Is there any kindness at all in yer heart fer him?”
Her golden eyes sought her father’s and held them as she said very distinctly, “I shall hate him forever.” Her words gave him only a momentary pang of guilt. He felt he had done the right thing by giving her to a man as strong and powerful as Douglas. These were disquieting times for Scotland, and he felt in his bones there was worse to come.
When she went back aboard the Antigone, Tina went straight to her cabin, crawled into a bunk, and stayed there until they sailed into the Port of Glasgow. She awoke amazingly refreshed, and all signs of nausea had disappeared as if they had been figments of her imagination. By the time she dressed and went up on deck, the horses had been taken off the ship and her baggage was being loaded onto a wagon. Glasgow’s quayside was on the River Clyde, which was broad and crystal clear.
Ramsay, who had been watching for her, escorted her from the ship. “Are ye rested? Ye looked a little pale when ye came aboard this morning.”
“An empty wardrobe plays havoc with my constitution,” she said innocently.
He raised an amused eyebrow in the direction of her mountain of luggage. “Little vixen! Yer father told ye how much money I made last night.”
“He did, my Lord Douglas, and I seem to dimly recollect your promise to keep me in barbaric splendor.”
He laughed, his face a startling contrast from the harsh, grim expression he usually wore. “Angus has a townhouse in Garrowhill. Tomorrow I’ll take ye shopping along the Great Western Road.”
“I may have anything I desire?” she pressed.
“Aye, anything,” he promised.
Angus’s townhouse turned out to be a magnificent fifteenth-century mansion. For the first time Valentina began to think of the vast wealth and power attached to the name of Douglas. The house boasted frescoed ceilings, an elegant oval staircase, and salons crammed with art treasures and paintings from around the world.
Ram bade Ada take one bag only from the baggage cart and take it to the master bedchamber. He summoned Angus’s majordomo and told him to plenish two chambers in another wing for Tina’s servingwomen. He wanted her to himself tonight.
When Tina entered the master bedchamber, she was pleasantly surprised. It was easily twice the size of any chamber she’d ever seen. Its walls were covered by the palest green watered silk, and its ceiling was painted with scenes from Greek mythology. Its windows were really doors made from small panes of glass. These doors opened onto a small stone balcony with steps that led down to a private walled garden. At the moment it was ablaze with chrysanthemums, Michaelmas daisies, tall hollyhocks, and late-blooming roses. There was a small fountain with a sundial, and a large lime tree that held a swing.
The chamber had the luxury of a carved mantel and fireplace, but they would need no fire on this warm autumn night. The townhouse was the antithesis of a drafty castle. It had a room just for bathing, with water brought in by pipes.
