This Heart of Mine (83 page)

“The reward wouldna really interest him,” Ian said. “He can hae Alex’s cattle. ’Tis a huge herd this year and worth a good deal of gold. That would appeal to him.”

“Who?”
Alanna demanded.

“Ranald Shaw. They call him Ranald Torc, Ranald the Boar. He’s an outlaw, a beast of a man, but he’s just greedy enough to like the idea, and he’s a man of his word.”

“What’s to prevent him from simply stealing Alex’s cattle when he finds out that BrocCairn is away?”

“Ranald Torc is nae a fool, Alanna. He’s afraid of Alex, as he should be. He realizes that his only security would be in having Velvet in his custody. He’ll cooperate wi’ us, dinna fear.”

“We may not have much time,” Alanna cautioned. “Find out how long Alex will be gone. Only then will you know. Jesu, Ian! What an opportunity this is for us! With the king’s reward, we can leave this damned glen, that dank pile of stones that you hate so much, and Annabella! We’ll be rich, and neither of us will have to owe our livings to the damned Earl of BrocCairn! Think of it, Ian!” She grasped his arms. “We’ll be rich!”

He did think of it, and as he pondered it over and over again in his mind it occurred to him that he could indeed be very rich. It also occurred to him that he did not want to share that wealth with Alanna. He would rid himself of both his carping wife and his carping mistress, but first he would use Alanna to help him.

Riding up to the castle that morning, Ian intruded upon Velvet as she worked in her garden. “Is it true,” he demanded without so much as a greeting, “that Alex has gone to Huntley wi’ Bothwell?”

“Aye,” she answered him, annoyed to be caught upon her knees pruning her roses.

He enjoyed towering over her. It gave him a feeling of power, a feeling of sexual excitement that surged through him. “How long will he be gone?”

Velvet rose to her feet, dusting her hands on her skirt. “What difference does it make to you, Ian?” she demanded irritably.

“None to me, but Bella wanted to know, for she is eager to invite you to
Grantholm
and needs several days to prepare. I’m only her messenger.”

“Alex will be gone several days, five to six, he said.” She smiled sweetly at Ian. “Tell Bella I have a fancy for sweet cakes. I simply cannot live without them these days.”

He looked at her as if she had lost her wits.

Velvet laughed. “Why, Ian, as the father of two I would think you’d know what a craving for certain foods indicated. Did we not promise you that you would be one of the first to know when I became enceinte?”

“Ye’re wi’ child?” he said incredulously, unable to believe this stroke of good fortune. He could already imagine the golden reward he would gain from the crown for Lord Bothwell’s capture, for Alex loved his wife, and would love her even better now that she was expecting his heir.

“Aye,” Velvet confirmed proudly. “I am with child, but don’t tell Bella. I want to be the one to surprise her.”

Ian smiled toothily at Velvet. “Nay, my dear, I’ll nae tell Bella. Ye’ll have yer surprise.” Then he turned and left her as abruptly as he had come, heading his horse for the patch of wild country to the west of
Dun Broc
where Ranald Torc held sway.

The territory actually bordered on lands held by the Gordons, the Grants, and Clan Shaw. Ranald Torc was a younger son of the Shaws who had gone wild, but he was not bothered by his relations, for he was too fierce a man to fight and he frankly frightened them. He might have had the family’s entire holding but for the fact that he wasn’t an ambitious sort. Relieved by this, the Shaws let him be, turning a blind eye when he raided their cattle and sheep or carried off an occasional woman.

Ranald Torc’s mother had been the sister of Ian Grant’s father. The two had played together as boys, and even though Ranald was politely ignored by his family, Ian still kept up the connection between them although he had never understood why. Perhaps, weakling that he was, he secretly admired the unorthodox ways of his rebellious cousin.

Ranald Torc’s home was a dilapidated stone house deep in
the forest. Ian knew that he was observed almost every foot of the way he traveled from the moment he stepped onto his cousin’s lands. Still, he looked neither to the right nor the left nor behind him. He simply pressed onward until the house came into view.

“Hallo, the house!” he called as he stopped his horse. “Ranald Torc! ’Tis Ian Grant.”

The door to the dwelling slowly opened, and then a figure stooped beneath the entryway and came forth into the clearing. Ian was, as always when he saw his cousin after a long period of time, amazed by the man’s size. Ranald Torc stood close to seven feet in height with huge limbs and shoulders. His massive head was completely in proportion with his great body, his light brown hair cut straight across his forehead and hanging to his shoulders. His nickname, “The Boar,” came from the fact that his light blue eyes were closely spaced, giving him the wary, suspicious look of a wild pig. That feature prevented him from being handsome, although he was certainly not an ugly man.

“Hallo, Mouse!” His deep voice boomed at Ian. “What brings ye into my lair?”

Ian flushed at Ranald Torc’s use of the nickname he’d been given by his elder cousin during their childhood. His color was not lost on Ranald, who chuckled at Ian’s discomfort.

“I’ve a proposition to make ye, Ranald. It’ll bring ye a lot of gold if ye’re interested.”

“Come into the house then,
Mouse.”
The giant ducked back under his doorway followed by Ian. Once his eyes became used to the gloom Ian could see about the huge room with its great fireplace. It was quite comfortably furnished. Ranald poured some whiskey into pewter goblets and thrust one into Ian’s hand, motioning him at the same time to be seated.

“Well, speak up, Mouse! How can I get myself this gold ye’re babbling about?”

“I’ll need yer word first that ye’ll aid me in a small undertaking of my own, Ranald. My undertaking will earn me a great deal of gold, too, but that gold I’ll nae share wi’ ye. Besides, it will take longer to get than the easy gold I hae in mind for ye.”

Ranald Torc shrugged. “Ye were always the smarter of us, Mouse. If ye say I’ll be satisfied, then I believe ye, for we’re kin, and I know ye’d nae cheat me because ye know if ye did that I’d kill ye. I’ll aid ye in yer undertaking, cousin. Now, say on!”

“Lord Bothwell is at this very minute on his way to Huntley wi’ BrocCairn. There’s a good price on his head, but no one can catch him. I know how to catch him, however. He and BrocCairn are cousins. He’s very fond of both Alex and Alex’s wife, who is expecting BrocCairn’s heir. Help me to kidnap Velvet Gordon, Ranald. Bothwell wouldn’t let anything happen to his cousin’s wife and child. He’s too much the gentleman. He’ll turn himself in, and I’ll gain the king’s reward for his capture, and ye’ll gain BrocCairn’s cattle, for we’ll steal them as well as his wife. He’s got a huge herd, Ranald! Since we’re at peace, most of BrocCairn’s men hae gone wi’ him, and the cattle’s unguarded.”

“Hae ye thought of how ye’re going to get Lady Gordon out of that fortress, Ian?”

“Aye! Ye can capture her when she comes to visit my wife at
Grantholm.
Ye know the stretch of lonely road between Broc Ailien and my holding. It’s the ideal place to take her!”

“And what’s to prevent BrocCairn from coming after her and killing me and mine?” demanded Ranald Torc. “A good wife can’t be replaced easily.”

“Ye need not fear Alex, Ranald. He adores Velvet, and the bairn she carries will be their firstborn. He won’t want anything to happen to her, and neither will Bothwell. They’ll cooperate, and we’ll both be rich men!”

“What does yer wife think of this, Mouse? Is she in agreement wi’ yer plan?”

“Annabella doesna know, Ranald. I’m leaving
Grantholm
when this is over.”

“Ah.” The giant smiled. “There’s another woman, is there?”

Ian laughed. “I’ll be leaving her, too,” he said. “I’m not of a mind to exchange one complaining woman for another. Here’s the best part, cousin. My mistress was Alex’s mistress! He brought her from England before his wife came, but he grew tired of her. She has his brat, a daughter. No one, not even my wife, knows that I’ve been using her.”

“Is she pretty?” Ranald Torc inquired.

“Aye. She’s got long yellow hair she wears in thick braids, and the biggest pair of tits I’ve ever seen on any woman, let alone one who just stands over five feet in height. Her skin is good, for she’s nae pockmarked like so many.” Then suddenly Ian had another idea. “Would ye like her, Ranald? I’ll gie her to ye! Alex’s cattle and Alex’s whore! ’Tis nae a bad deal, is it?”

“Well,” Ranald Torc considered, “I’ve nae had a woman
in a long time. I dinna like hurting them, and ye know my problem.”

Ian did indeed know his cousin’s problem. Ian was himself very well endowed sexually, but his cousin was considered to be deformed, for his genitals were more like those of a stallion than those of a man. As young men are wont to do, the cousins had once compared the sizes of their cocks. To Ian’s intense embarrassment, Ranald was almost twice his size, and it wasn’t until Ian saw how he stood among other men that his confidence was restored. Ranald Torc was simply too big for most women, and even paid whores refused to risk injury when they saw his male parts. But he missed a woman’s warmth. Ian’s offer was a tempting one.

“If ye’re sure ye dinna want the woman anymore, Mouse, then, aye, I’ll take her. If I kill her it’ll nae matter since she’s an English whore, but won’t she object when she finds out ye’re leaving her?”

“Let me handle Alanna. I’ll tell her ye’ll nae help us unless she spreads her legs for ye. She’ll do it. She’s a greedy bitch.”

“How long do we have before BrocCairn returns?” Ranald was now making his plans.

“He’ll be gone five or six days, but we’d best do it quickly.”

“Aye, I’d agree wi’ that, Mouse.”

“Will ye bring Alex’s wife here?” Ian asked.

“Nay, cousin. That’s too obvious. We’ll drive the cattle south and sell them there. Then we’ll go to Edinburgh to await yer reward. I’ll hae my gold, and it’ll be harder for the Earl of BrocCairn to find us in the city than here. I’d like to live to enjoy my ill-gotten gains.” He chuckled.

“Lady Gordon is newly wi’ child, Ranald. Ye canna endanger her life or that of the child. Alex would kill me if ye did. I dinna like the bastard, but I’m no murderer,” Ian declared.

“Ye dinna think he’ll kill ye for leaving his sister, Mouse?” “Bella willna let him. I know her; she’ll be hoping that I’ll return to her.” “Will ye?” Ranald asked.

“Nay. I’m for France where I’m told a man can live well wi’ a goodly pile of gold. I never thought to hae such a chance, but Alanna is a wise wench and ’twas her idea, all of this.”

“I’m thinking then that ye’re a fool to let such a woman go so easily, Mouse.”

“A woman, Ranald, is a woman, be she wife or mistress. Keep one around too long, and they all begin to sound alike, to say the same things, to carp and complain without ceasing.
From now on I intend to have a different woman every week, and that way I’ll never be bored again!”

“I’ll gie my men their orders then, Mouse, and ye and I will ride down to Broc Ailien. I’m anxious to meet this Alanna.”

It was already nightfall when they slipped into Alanna Wythe’s cottage. Alanna was in her nightshift, and the fire was low when they arrived. Sybilla lay asleep in her cot.

“And who is this giant?” demanded Alanna crossly. “I didn’t give you permission to bring your friends here.”

“This is Ranald Torc, Alanna. He’s agreed to help us. We move tomorrow. I’m going home tonight to
Grantholm
to get Annabella to send a message to sweet Velvet to come and visit wi’ her tomorrow afternoon. Ranald’s men will take her on the road between the village and my home. Then they’ll take BrocCairn’s cattle, and we’ll be gone.”

“What happens when your wife gives the alarm because Velvet hasn’t arrived, Ian? You’ll have to send the message in Annabella’s name so that she doesn’t know there’s been a message. That way we’ll have more time. You can even send another message to
Dun Broc
later, saying her ladyship has decided to spend the night at
Grantholm.
That way there’ll be no alarm until the following day, and by the time they reach Alex, we’ll all be very long gone.”

“By God!” Ranald Torc said, “I like a woman who thinks like a man. Now, mouse, tell the wench my condition for helping ye.”

“Mouse?”
Alanna looked at Ian and laughed. “Aye, I can see it! What condition?”

“He wants to fuck ye,” Ian said bluntly. “He’ll help us if ye’ll let him.”

Alanna let her eyes roam over Ranald Torc. Her gaze was bold and noncommittal. “He’s got to wash first,” she said.

“What?”
Both men spoke in unison.

“He smells like a pig byre. I’ll fuck him, but he’s got to be clean.” She didn’t give either man the chance to think, instead saying, “Ian, get the tub I use in the pantry, and I’ll start heating the water.”

Ranald Torc was fascinated. He had expected a shriek of outrage, which he would follow with the rape of the Englishwoman’s person. Instead she was ordering him to bathe, and, by God, he was going to do it! He had never met such a woman in his entire life. He gave a barely perceptible nod to his cousin, and within a short time the tub was filled with warm water and set before the fire, which Alanna had built up so that its warmth filled the room.

He handed her his shirt and his stockings which she immediately threw into a smaller tub to wash. Ian, having yanked his cousin’s boots off moments before, had already fled the cottage. He didn’t want to be around when Alanna got a good look at Ranald Torc’s private parts.

“Get into the tub,” Alanna ordered the giant, pulling his kilt from him and turning to shake it out the back door. “Now,” she said, “just sit there a few minutes until I get your shirt and stockings clean. ’Tis no good putting a clean body into dirty clothes.”

It was obvious she hadn’t taken a good look at him yet, he thought, or she’d be screaming the cottage down. He did as he had been told and sat himself in the tub, considering even as he did so how foolish he must look, his knees sticking up into the air. Within a few minutes, as she had promised, his shirt and hose were washed and spread before the fire to dry. Alanna now turned to the task of bathing Ranald Torc, and she showed no mercy as she wielded a boar’s-bristle brush on him.