The Border Hostage (31 page)

Ram turned to Jock, his second-in-command. “We're ridin'. We'll take half the moss-troopers and leave the others here with Gavin.” Jock left to inform the men who were not already in the hall.

Heath's and Ram's eyes met. “I'll be there at the Border Wardens' meeting one way or another,” Heath said. “I'll bring Armstrong, if you like.”

Ram nodded. “Ye're needed here fer now. I'll see ye in Carlisle.” He spoke to his wife. “I'll leave Gavin in charge here at Eskdale. Go tae Castle Douglas as soon as ye can, love.”

Heath carried his father up to his tower and put him in his own bed. Heath's heart was heavy. What had happened had nothing to do with any bloody curse, yet he was likely the cause of it. Every instinct told him it was Dacre's vengeful reprisal against the Kennedys for kidnapping his precious son and holding him ransom.

Duncan Kennedy came into the tower room and challenged Heath. “Who the hell put ye in charge, Gypsy? Ye're no' even a member of this family.”

Rob glared at Duncan. “Cease yer clatter!”

Heath looked at Duncan and said evenly, “If you'll stay with him, I'll go to the stillroom and get him something for his heart.”

Heath couldn't find what he wanted, so he went into Valentina's walled garden to pick foxglove and lily of the
valley, which he took to the kitchens. Mr. Burque helped him to make a distillation by boiling the plants' juice with watered wine. “Kirkcudbright was raided two nights past; Donal Kennedy is feared dead,” Heath told him.

“Mon
Dieu!
Nothing will keep Tina here. Tell her I shall be ready to leave in two hours' time.”

“Lord Douglas and his moss-troopers have already gone. Tina won't be leaving today. Our father is ill, and she has her babies to think of. We'll go tomorrow, if it is at all possible.”

Mr. Burque stirred in honey and poured the hot wine into a pewter jug, then handed it to Heath. “The Lord of Galloway can be an old swine, but give the devil his due— he loves his children.” Burque realized his faux pas immediately; Kennedy loved his
legitimate
children.

When Heath returned to his tower with the decoction for his father, Rob looked askance at it. “Ye wouldna give me the poison Old Meg give me? It griped my bowels terrible!”

“This will soothe you and stop your heart from racing.”

Rob felt he could take Heath at his word and swallowed his medicine, but he fixed Heath with a glare. “The old Gypsy witch dinna obey ye and remove the curse! I'm goin' tae Kirkcudbright the morrow.”

“We'll see,” Heath said firmly.

“He'll be fine,” Duncan Kennedy said with authority. “He can rest aboard ship.”

“It's getting him to the ship that I'm worried about.”

Duncan motioned Heath into the adjoining chamber. “If Donal's dead, I'm now heir. I'll give the orders in the Kennedy family.”

Heath looked him straight in the eye. “Father isn't dead yet.”

Valentina and Beth came to see how their father was faring, and Ada, who had always had a soft spot for Rob Kennedy, accompanied them. Tina's eyes were red from
the tears she had shed over Donal, and the lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She took her father's weathered hand and stroked it.

Rob grabbed her hand and said urgently, “Wee Robbie— ye must take especial care of him!”

Duncan told Tina, “He's just been dosed; he's makin' no sense.”

Tina, however, knew that her father was referring to her baby son. She didn't have the heart to tell him she had chosen the name Neal. “I'll take care of him, Father.”

“The curse will wipe out the Kennedy male line!” Rob insisted.

“He's ravin',” Duncan said, then looked at Heath. “What the hell did ye give him?”

Ada stepped between the two half-brothers. “Heath knows all there is to know about herbal medicine. I'll sit with Lord Kennedy; you must have pressing things you need to do.”

Duncan stalked from the tower and Heath put his arm about Valentina's shoulders. “We'll see this through together. The easiest way to get Father to the ship anchored in the Solway is down the River Esk in one of the boats. There would be plenty of room for you and the twins.”

“Will you come too?”

He shook his head. “I have to take a prisoner. Mr. Burque intends to go; he and Ada will see to Father.”

Tina nodded. “We have everything packed and ready. If Father's well enough, we'll go tomorrow. I'll speak to Duncan; he's being abrupt because he feels useless right now.”

When everyone but Ada had departed, Rob Kennedy continued fretting about the curse. Over the years, the two had been intimate upon occasion, and the Lord of Galloway felt he could trust Ada, insofar as he could trust any woman. “Old Meg put a curse on me when her daughter, Lily Rose, died in childbed. I loved Lily Rose; why does the old witch point the bloody finger of guilt at me?”

“Many women die in childbirth, Rob; it wasn't your fault. It was before you wed Elizabeth; you have naught to be guilty about.”

Her words did not soothe him. “Do ye believe in curses, Ada?”

Though she hesitated, Ada was the sort of woman who seldom lied. “I'm an English Border woman, Rob, superstitious to the bone. Logic tells me there are no such things, yet I believe there is a terrible power embedded in curses.”

“Can they be broken?” he persisted. “Curses are evil; they can be overcome with goodness, I warrant, but few of us are capable of unadulterated virtue.”

Heath went below to the dungeons, lit a torch, and unlocked the cell door. He set the torch in a wall bracket and waited until Sim Armstrong's eyes adjusted to the light. “I have more questions. Truthful answers will earn you better treatment.”

When Armstrong nodded warily, Heath continued. “Mangey controls the Armstrongs. How many? How many will ride if Dacre pays?”

The prisoner shrugged. “Hundert, more or less.”

“What other Scots clans would raid their own for gain?”

“Plenty!”

“I want names.”

“Grahams … controlled by Long Will. They raid both sides o' the Border an' take refuge in the Debatable Land.”

“Come on. You can wash in the river and I'll give you some clean clothes.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“Because you stink, and because we're going to the Border Wardens' meeting shortly.”

Armstrong recoiled in fear. “Nay, nay! Christ almighty, ye might as well hang me now!”

Like a wolf, Heath drew back his lips to expose his teeth. “Rope costs money.”

At Carlisle Castle, Sir Lancelot Carleton and Lord Thomas Dacre bargained over the details of the legal betrothal between Raven and Christopher. “The bride's dowry is so modest, I ask you to consider throwing in a piece of land. How about the Burgh, that lies south of the River Eden? 'Tis only marshland, after all.”

“Raven's dowry may be modest, but her beauty and virtue are such that she needs no dowry at all. Your wife brought you nothing, as did mine,” Lance Carleton countered.

“We were hot-blooded devils, led by our pricks rather than our brains. If you will put the Burgh Marsh in your daughter's name, to be held for her children, then we have a bargain.”

Carleton grudgingly agreed, knowing that if Raven predeceased her husband, the land would go to Christopher Dacre.

Finally, when the betrothal agreement lacked only the date of the marriage and the signatures, Lord Dacre opened the library door and asked the couple to join him. Kate Carleton took Rosalind Dacre's arm and said pointedly, “Surely you will not deprive us mothers of being present at such a joyous time?”

When everyone had filed into the library, Lord Dacre, playing the role of affable host, said, “All we need settle is the wedding date, then we can sign the betrothal.”

Christopher caressed Raven with a look of adoration. “Tonight would be my choice.”

“So impetuous, but so romantic,” Raven's mother remarked.

“Need we choose a date yet? I would like a little time,” Raven said.

“If this is to be a legal betrothal, we need a date,” Lord Dacre said decisively.

“If Raven needs time, I am willing to wait until after the Border Wardens' Court, say the end of the month,” Christopher offered generously.

The month is more than half over!
Raven refused to be pushed. “I was thinking the end of the year.”

Chris laughed good-naturedly. “Raven is having fun with us.”

“My dear, you are not serious?” Rosalind asked anxiously.

“Of course she isn't!” Kate snapped. In a panic, she compromised by adding a few days onto what Chris Dacre had suggested. “August is a lovely month, Raven; there is nothing more romantic than a summer wedding!”

Lord Dacre's eyes narrowed. Nothing annoyed him more than a woman who wanted her own way. Raven Carleton would have them jumping through hoops. Clearly the female needed mastering! “Well, as your father said, your beauty and your virtue are such that you need no dowry, but a little consideration would not hurt.”

Raven flushed with embarrassment; not only was Lord Dacre remarking on her virtue and her small dowry, he was accusing her of being inconsiderate. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I will sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.”

Lord Dacre motioned for his son to remain after everyone else departed. “That girl needs a good fucking and a good beating!”

“Don't worry, Father, I intend to give her both.”

Dacre envied him. “I would advise sooner rather than later.”

Raven went straight upstairs, and Lark, who had been longing to know what had gone on in the library, followed her to their bedchamber. “Are you officially betrothed?”

Before Raven could answer, Kate Carleton swept into the room. “I don't believe it! I simply do not believe it! For
months we have worked toward one goal, to get a commitment of marriage from Christopher Dacre, and just when it is in the palm of your hand, you act as if you are completely indifferent, and almost let it slip through your fingers. The time for being coy is long past! I thought you were an intelligent young woman. You must seize this opportunity immediately, or we shall find our long campaign has been for naught!”

“Mother, Christopher and I understand each other. He knows if there is to be a betrothal, it will be on my terms.”

Kate took a step backward and gasped.
“Your
terms? You willful girl! You may have young Dacre panting after you, but I can assure you Lord Dacre has the whip hand here. A man who rules the Borders certainly rules his own household. He could betroth his son and heir to any young woman in England. He could have an heiress, a
titled
heiress even. He doesn't have to settle for the daughter of a castle constable!”

She means crippled castle constable!
“Father is an appointed judge of the Wardens' Court,” Raven said proudly.

“Yes, and who has he to thank for that appointment? You selfish girl, do you not realize Lord Dacre could have it off him in a moment if you offend him?” Kate's voice cracked, and she suddenly burst into tears.

Raven, who had never seen her mother cry, was appalled. The tears touched her far deeper than all the recriminations Kate had heaped upon her. She felt guilty and contrite. “Mother, I'm sorry, please don't cry.”

“I'll have Chris if Raven doesn't want him,” Lark offered.

“Oh, my innocent lamb! What a comfort you are,” Kate said through her tears. “You were always such a good girl.”

And I'm the bad girl!
Raven had to bite her tongue. “I need to speak with Father.” She went along to the chamber her mother and father occupied, and knocked quietly.

Lance Carleton opened the door. “Come in, child.”

“I've made a mess of things … Mother's crying.”

“Tears usually get a woman what she wants,” he said dryly.

“You are not upset with me?”

“Raven, it is your life. If you want to wait, it should be your free choice.”

The word
free
struck a nerve.
There is really no such thing as free choice
, Raven thought cynically. “For argument's sake, let us say I chose to marry a Scot, a Borderer. Would I still have free choice?”

“When you sit as judge at a Border Court, you realize there is little difference between Scot and English. Human beings are human beings the world over. So, in theory, you would have free choice.”

“What if he were illegitimate, and had Gypsy blood?”

“Now you are being ridiculous. Under such circumstances I would be derelict in my duty as a father to allow you free choice.”

“A Gypsy would not be good enough for a Carleton?”

“The blood has little to do with it. Such a man could not provide you and your future children with the comfortable home and life that I would wish for you. Raven, this theorizing is all very well, but you must come to a decision about a wedding date, or call it off altogether.”

“And break my mother's heart? I could hardly do such a selfish and willful thing.” Raven smiled brightly. “Thank you for listening to me, Father.”

When she returned to her own bedchamber, Raven hugged her mother. “I promise to set a wedding date tomorrow.”

“Oh, Raven, my dear, you won't regret this, it is such a big step up in the world for us.”

Raven undressed, and as she hung her sapphire-blue gown in the wardrobe, her hand brushed against the Gypsy dress. Its vibrant red color stayed with her as she climbed into bed, murmured good night to Lark, and blew out the candles. She lay staring up into the darkness, and pictured Heath Kennedy lying in his bed, doing the same.

At Eskdale, Heath lay in the adjoining tower room, listening to his father's even breathing. The foxglove and lily of the valley, both strong heart medicines, had slowed down Rob's heart and taken away the heavy pain. Tonight, Heath's own heart was pained. He was saddened by his father's ailing condition and grieved over Donal, who was one of the world's innocents. He cursed himself for bringing misfortune upon the Kennedys. In hindsight he regretted taking Chris Dacre and holding him for the ransom of his mares. The only thing he didn't regret was Raven. Tonight he ached for her.

Heath pictured her lying in bed, her sensuous black hair spread across the white pillow, her lavender eyes gazing into the darkness. He focused his full attention upon her until the world fell away. He breathed deeply, rhythmically, until his very blood slowed in his veins, then his soul reached out to touch her. “Come to me, Raven.”