Tempted by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online Page B

the flames while the fire was small enough, then joining in the frenzied dancing when the bonfire was piled with brush and young trees and finally thick logs from oaks that had been felled and dragged from the forest to feed the Beltane fires.
    It was the ancient rite of spring that all cultures had celebrated in one form or another since pagan times, and Tina wouldn’t have missed the exhilaration of this night for anything. By midnight, however, men and women, young and old, were either falling-down drunk or sexually aroused to the point where they tore off their clothes and copulated with any willing stranger.
    Tina was visibly shocked, and Heath was quick to drag her away from the abandoned writhings. “It’s time I got you back to Doon,” he said firmly. As he lifted her into her saddle, she looked down into his warm brown eyes. “Is it always like this?” she asked in a distressed voice.
    “Aye. Animals! They fool you by walking upright, don’t they?”
    She was subdued on the ride home, and Heath was thankful. He never forbade her nor read her a sermon about the things she wished to do. Rather, he let her experience everything and trusted to her own good sense whether she repeated the folly.
    He stayed with her until she crossed the drawbridge of Doon, then turned his Thoroughbred and galloped south.
    Tina stabled her mare in a rear stall, then quietly rubbed her down and covered her with a plaid. Suddenly the bailey was filled with horses, men, and herded animals. The cattle lowed, and about fifty sheep ran baaing into the stables, setting the dogs barking and the hens flapping.
    Duncan’s voice came terse and harsh to his men. “Get these bloody sheep tae the far meadow an’ the cattle tae pasture by the river.”
    Tina walked from the rear stall just as Duncan lit the lantern. Her eyes were like saucers. “God’s blood, you’ve been on a raid!”
    “Fold yer tongue behind yer teeth. What the hell are ye doin’ out here at this ungodly hour? Get tae bed, and keep yer mouth shut!”
    Hands on hips, she was about to defy him when he raised his fist to her, and she saw he was in no mood to argue with a woman. Shrugging one pretty shoulder, she lifted her skirt and picked her way through the bleating menagerie.
    Tina’s blood was high, preventing sleep, so she arose at dawn and made her way to the kitchens, unwilling to wait until breakfast was served in the hall. Mr. Burque’s face was tinged with green as he supervised the food preparation for scores of mouths while trying to keep his gorge from rising.
    “Too much Beltane,” Tina whispered knowingly.
    “Too much whisky! It rots the gut as well as the brain No wonder the Scots are thick-tongued!”
    Duncan kicked open the kitchen door. “Christ, mon, when do we eat? Where the hell’s the pot-boy wi’ the ale?” he demanded before slamming the door.
    Mr. Burque rolled his eyes. “Something’s wrong— gravely wrong Duncan is the best natured of all the Kennedys.”
    “They went on a raid last night,” Tina whispered.
    “That should put him in a benign mood. ‘Tis a borderer’s favorite pastime.”
    “I thought that was wenching,” she whispered.
    He shook his head very gingerly and said, “No, no, chérie, that is Frenchmen.”
    She stole a fresh pastry from the table and said, “I’ll find out why he’s in a filthy temper.”
    The Kennedys were merchants and Doon was no garrison, but they did have some men-at-arms. They sat morosely at the trestle tables in the hall. Usually their din was deafening, so Tina did not need to ask if something had gone amiss. “Well, this is a riotous company. Where’s Donal?” she asked, suddenly apprehensive.
    The pot-boy’s hands shook as he filled Duncan’s tankard, and as a result the ale sloshed over the rim. “Cursed lackey!” Then Duncan told her shortly, “Donal’s away tae Kirkcudbright.”
    “Let me guess—Andrew went home to Carrick, and Callum to Newark.” Tina grinned. “You