Free Wild Hearts by Virginia Henley Page B

enough of you," she said suggestively, her eyes resting on his body.
    "You could visit us," he replied lightly.
    She quickly veiled her expression of distaste. "That tribe hates me."
    "I like you, Margaret, isn't that enough?" he teased.
    "You would be more than enough for me," she hinted, brushing his hand as she gave him the wine cup.
    He laughed to lighten her mood. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Magnus has been neglecting you."
    She looked him full in the face, her dark eyes holding his for long seconds. "He is over fifty," she said pointedly.
    Magnus's voice boomed across the chamber. "That's enough pampering, Margaret. Come, Paris, my favorite mare foaled yesterday. You will be green with envy when you see him."
    "Which sire? Your black stallion, Diablo?" asked Paris.
    Margaret sighed. Men and horses. What chance did she have in such a competition? "Paris," she called after him; "will you carry a letter to my mother?"
    He bowed. "Of course, Margaret; you know f am always at your service."
    At mention of Margaret's mother, Mrs. Sinclair, who was Anne's nurse, Magnus inquired, "How is it with Anne?"
    The muscle in Paris's jaw turned to iron, and his eyes turned cold. "She is beautiful and ugly, mad and sane, still-crippled, in mind if not in body. She is Anne— what can I say?"
    Magnus just shook his head, and they resumed their conversation of horses. As Paris admired the colt, he asked, "Didn't we get the stallion in that raid across the border a couple of years back?"
    "The very same," said Magnus. "Give the devil his due, the English know how to breed horses. By the way, I haven't thanked you for that case of French brandy you sent. Magnifique!"
    "The French also do some things well." Paris smiled.
    Magnus got a faraway look in his eyes. "The only time I was ever in love, she was French," he said wistfully. He shook his head to dispel the ghosts. Mention of the French girl sent Paris's thoughts winging to Tabby, so he probed deeper. "You old devil, I bet you don't even recall her last name!"
    The ploy did not work; Magnus smiled secretly. "I'll remember her till the day I die."
    Paris was aware of the dilemma he would be thrown into if Magnus's former love was Tabby's mother. His heart wanted her to be his half cousin, not his half sister, but his brain clearly told him that if Tabby was Magnus's daughter, it could be the making of an horrendous battle between the two men, if Magnus discovered all his actions. Paris decided it was safer to let things lie.
    Magnus said briskly, "My advice regarding Abrahams... get in touch with Callum McCabe, attorney-at-law. As a neutral third party he can negotiate for you. I've used him, and he did work for the King."
    "But this is outside the law. I could be hanged for what I'm doing," protested Paris.
    Magnus shook his head. "If you want a bigger scoundrel than yourself, look to the law. It's expensive, but they know schemes you haven't even dreamt of yet. They know all the twists and turns, and more importantly, all the loopholes."
    Paris grinned. "I'll ride to Edinburgh straight from here in the morning: I've good clothes at the town house. You're right, a letter from a solicitor would carry more weight than a crude ransom note."
     
    When Tabby found out Paris had gone to Tantallon to visit his uncle and likely would not be back until the next day, she realized that tonight she would have an opportunity to speak with someone outside this family. Someone who could possibly deliver her. When Robert Kerr, the Laird of Cessford, arrived, he brought with him his brother Andrew and his friend Lord Logan, who had been wanting to meet the Cockburn sisters for a long time.
    Robert had been pursuing Damascus since they were both fifteen. It was taken for granted by the family that they would wed as soon as they were old enough. He came over regularly on Monday night, and the evenings were always festive; not actually a party but the next thing to it. Robert's castle at Cessford was