Page 84 of Tempted
He shrugged. “I was illegitimate, though I never knew it. Ramsay had known for years, but out of kindness he protected me from the knowledge.” He sketched in silence for a few minutes, then said, “I was away from home when the tragedy happened, and before the week was out, I sustained these crippling injuries in a border skirmish. I came so close to death, I had more pressing problems than the succession to worry about.”
Tina frowned. So Ram had known that if anything befell Alex, he, not Colin, would become Lord Douglas. “You hinted once that Ram was in love with Damaris,” she said lightly.
“She was so lovely, we were all in love wi’ her.” He smiled wistfully.
“So it was no more than a boy’s infatuation?”
“I hope not,” Colin said quietly.
Tina knew she would get no more out of him. What a closed-mouthed, tight-lipped clan these Douglases were.
At the end of the day Tina expected to be shown the sketches, but Colin was adamant—the sketches were his Not all of them were good enough to display. He would select the best, and she was most welcome to see her portrait when he had painted it, and not before.
She tried to tease him into a more generous mood, but try as she might, her feminine wiles were useless against the stubborn determination of Colin Douglas.
Drummond Douglas, on orders from Ram, took his crew to Scotland’s east coast where the Caprice was anchored. They painted the merchant vessel gray and renamed it Revenge, exactly as Ram had done with the Valentina. They began systematic raids down England’s eastern coast, from Berwick to Tynemouth.
Ram himself alternated between land raids and sea raids. Word soon flew to Henry Tudor’s Court that a scourge by the name of Lord Vengeance was playing merry hell with England’s ships, and rumors abounded that he had been seen on both coasts, which was a virtual impossibility. At the same time, wherever Lord Dacre had mounted a raid into Scotland, borderers had swept down into England taking not only revenge but everything of value they could lay their hands upon.
Writs of protest were immediately sent from the young King of England to the King of Scotland, and a warrant for the arrest of “Lord Vengeance” was dispatched by a royal courier.
James Stewart ignored the writs and warrants. He was delighted that one of his nobles had the reckless courage to hit back at the English, and hit back hard. He speculated upon who it could be but he did not really want to know, for then he would be honor-bound to deal with the renegade who was breaking Scotland’s solemn treaties with England. James had many wild clansmen to choose from. It could be a Hamilton under his admiral, the Earl of Arran, or it could be a hard-bitten borderer like Lord Home, Lord Douglas, or the Earl of Bothwell. It may even be his own cousin, Matthew Stewart, Earl of Lennox, or that uncivilized, fierce Highlander Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyll.
Whenever time or distance permitted, Hotspur rode home to Castle Douglas, usually arriving in the middle of the night. Valentina had become his lodestone, drawing him as irresistibly as a lunar tide. He would arrive depleted and depart again shortly, fully restored.
Sometimes his mood would be so black, Tina had to drain all his savage violence. Yet sometimes, like tonight, his infinite tenderness almost melted her heart toward him. He had started his lovemaking very slowly, gently taking off her nightgown, spreading her hair across the pillows, then caressing every curve, every warm hollow of her body with reverent hands. Then he had spread her legs apart to examine every detail. He took each delicate layer of pink flesh, touched, stroked, separated, and kissed. His touch was as light as a butterfly’s wings. Hours later, she lay in his arms limp and surfeited as he traced a pattern of ecstasy upon her face with his lips. He half lifted her against him. “Honeypot … my honeypot!” He only ever used this term in the privacy of their bed. “Tina, when I make love tae ye, it feels so right. I’ve never felt this way before. Ye make me feel warm, quiet, still. Ye make me feel whole— complete. I think I am in love wi’ ye.”
Her heart missed a beat, and she tried for a light note. “Where’s your hard evidence?” she demanded bawdily.
He ignored her taunt. “I’ve decided tae marry ye.”
The words hung in the darkness, and she was aghast. “Nay, we have an agreement of one year! We’ll decide then.”
“Tae lowest hell wi’ the agreement. I’ve decided now,” he said firmly.
“I’m not with child,” she pointed out
“How do ye know? Ye might be,” he said firmly
Blood of God, that could be true enough, the way he made love to her. Tina pulled out of his arms. “You arrogant swine, Douglas! You think you just have to snap your fingers, and I’ll do your bidding.”
“Dammit, Firebrand, listen tae me! If I waited until ye were pregnant, ye’d think I was marrying ye because of my heir. I want tae marry ye because I love ye!”
She put her hands over her ears to block out his voice and the sound of the raindrops pelting against the windows She decided to take the guard from her rapier and hissed, “I don’t want to wed you. Douglas men poison their wives!”
“Only when they’re unfaithful,” he jested cruelly, but Tina was not joking—she was deadly serious “My answer is no, and that’s final,” she declared.
He threw back the furs and quit the bed. He lit the candles and began to throw on his clothes. She could see and feel his anger He meant to leave, even though it was the middle of the night and he’d been home less than three hours.
In the candle glow her hair was an aureole of flame. Her hands brought the fur up to her throat as if she could protect herself with it. He dragged her from the bed with one powerful hand. “I’m not asking, I’m telling ye.” He towered above her, then suddenly his magnificent, weatherbeaten face, so brutally handsome, laughed down at her. He bent her backward in his arms. “I am your destiny. When I come next, I’ll fetch the priest.”
Chapter 25
Oh what care I for my goose-feather bed,
with the sheets turned down so bravely-o?
Tonight I will sleep in a wide open field,
