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Authors: His Lady of Castlemora

Joanna Fulford (17 page)

BOOK: Joanna Fulford
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‘I am doubly honoured, my lady.’

It was courteous and, he realised, quite sincere, but he knew it fell far short of what she wanted to hear from him. Her expression registered a variety of emotions, one of which was hurt. It cut him like a blade. He had no wish to be the cause of hurt but this was the lesser of two evils: better a little pain now rather than a great deal more later on.

Isabelle was quick to recover her composure. ‘Of late I have had leisure to think about the current situation.’

‘I also.’

‘Then perhaps you have come to the same conclusions.’

‘Which are?’

‘That the previous arrangement will not suffice at Dark Mount. I want us to live openly as man and wife. I have thought it over and it seems to me that there is little reason now not to acknowledge our betrothal.’ She hesitated. ‘If I do not conceive you can still put me aside and the law will support you. You have nothing to lose.’

She might have added that he had never had anything to lose but she did not. She might also have wept or begged. Whatever emotion lay under the surface it was now firmly under control, her manner cool and business-like. It engendered both admiration and respect. He surveyed her steadily, weighing the words in his mind. She had stated the case succinctly and accurately and, he decided, with considerable courage since it pointed up her vulnerability. Not only that, her words had echoed his own conclusions about the best way forwards now. In this at least he could grant her what she wanted.

He nodded. ‘Very well. Let our betrothal be acknowledged.’

‘Thank you. It will be a relief to dispense with secrecy.’

‘I’m inclined to agree.’ He paused, regarding her with curiosity. ‘It must have been a considerable temptation to reveal the matter, and yet you kept silent. Why did you?’

‘It was a secret, and one you had not authorised me to reveal.’

‘Even though to keep silent was detrimental to your interests?’

The hazel eyes met his gaze steadily. ‘My interests are bound up with yours, my lord. I also made certain promises that I would keep faith with you, and I will honour them.’ She paused. ‘In every way that I can.’

He felt strangely humbled by the declaration. Underlying that were other feelings that he couldn’t afford to examine. Instead he took her hand and carried it to his lips.

‘I will go and speak to my brother-in-law directly.’ He bowed and turned away, heading for the door. However, on reaching it he stopped for a moment and looked back. ‘Incidentally, you were mistaken when you said I had nothing to lose. From where I stand it looks like a great deal.’

Chapter Thirteen

I
sabelle watched the door close behind him and then slumped against the stone parapet, trying to order the chaos of her thoughts. That he should so readily agree to acknowledge her was an enormous relief. The thought of trying to carry on a clandestine relationship at Dark Mount had filled her with dread; it would only have been a matter of time before the matter was discovered, and the consequences were too dire to contemplate. Now at least that particular cloud had been lifted. Others remained.

She had declared her feelings as boldly as she dared but it was very clear that they were not returned. That Ban desired her and wanted to keep her was not in doubt. His decision just now reinforced that. In the final analysis it was only common sense. In any case it cost him nothing to grant her that much. She knew enough about him now to know he would not mistreat her, that all she desired of material possessions would be hers. What he would never give her was his heart.

* * *

Iain regarded his brother-in-law with undisguised surprise. ‘Betrothed? Since when?’

‘A few weeks ago.’

‘God’s blood, man, you must have moved fast.’

‘When I see what I want I go after it.’

‘Quite right. Besides, your lady is fair.’

‘So she is.’

‘All the same, I wish you’d told us before.’

‘Let’s just say that circumstances got in the way.’

Iain’s eyes narrowed a little, his expression speculative. ‘Why do I have the feeling I’m not being told the whole story?’

‘Because you aren’t,’ replied Ban, ‘but it’s all you’re going to get for the moment.’

‘Fair enough. It’s your affair after all.’

‘As you say.’

‘When you went to Castlemora I didn’t expect matters to turn out half so well,’ replied Iain. ‘A lovely bride is an enviable prize but now you’ve a rich estate to boot.’

‘The estate isn’t mine yet.’

‘No, but it will be, and soon, I promise you that.’ Iain clapped him on the shoulder. ‘The usurper’s days are numbered.’

‘Aye, they are. I mean to have his head mounted on my spear.’

‘Good. We shall discuss this further by and by. In the meantime I think your sister should be told the news, don’t you?’

* * *

Ashlynn heard it with incredulity and delight. Then she sent a servant to fetch a jug of the best wine and demanded that her brother should go and fetch Isabelle.

‘For this news should be celebrated properly.’

Realising that argument would be futile, Ban retraced his steps. However, he had only half completed the journey when he encountered the object of his errand coming the other way.

‘Well met,’ he said. ‘I was coming to look for you. Your presence is required in the hall.’

‘You’ve told them?’

He nodded, then seeing her anxious expression, smiled faintly. ‘Don’t worry. The news has been well received.’

‘I’m glad.’

He held out his hand. ‘Shall we?’

Rather shyly she put her fingers in his and allowed herself to be led down to the hall. Ashlynn embraced her warmly.

‘I am so pleased that we are to be sisters.’

‘As am I, my lady.’

‘Let us dispense with formality. You must call me Ashlynn. You’re part of the family now.’

‘And a most welcome addition too,’ said Iain. He kissed Isabelle’s cheek and smiled. ‘His taste is far better than I imagined.’

‘Yes, it is,’ replied Ashlynn. ‘Although I thought he would never find the right woman.’

Ban raised an eyebrow. ‘I told you; I’m hard to please.’

‘I can vouch for the truth of that.’ Ashlynn laughed. ‘I’ve been trying to marry him off for years.’

Isabelle felt herself redden. She was unused to being the centre of approving attention, but their expressions of welcome seemed quite genuine and that raised her spirits. She glanced at Ban. Even knowing the reasons it was still hard to believe that he was prepared to commit himself in this way; to acknowledge himself her husband. It might only be a business arrangement but it filled her with pride none the less.

‘When is the wedding to take place?’ asked Iain.

Isabelle’s heart turned over. She had assumed that the matter would stop here, that given the knowledge of their betrothal, the rest would be tacitly assumed. It had never occurred to her that others might see it differently. In silent consternation she looked at Ban but, far from appearing thrown by the question, he looked quite remarkably calm.

‘As soon as may be,’ he replied, ‘and with a minimum of fuss.’

Ashlynn sighed. ‘And I was hoping for a splendid feast with hundreds of guests.’

‘We appreciate the thought but need not such magnificence.’

‘So be it.’ She looked across at her husband.

‘Three days hence you shall go to the kirk,’ he said. ‘That will give us time to prepare a feast in celebration.’ Then, seeing Ban’s expression, he added, ‘A small feast, ye ken.’

‘And time to find something suitable for the bride to wear,’ said Ashlynn.

To cover her confusion Isabelle swallowed a mouthful of wine. It was dark and potent, as dangerous in its way as the events in which she was now ensnared. It didn’t help to know that she was a most willing participant.

* * *

It wasn’t until later that she was able to take Ban aside and ask the question uppermost in her mind.

‘Did you anticipate this?’

‘Of course. Didn’t you?’

‘Well, no. I thought that betrothal was virtually the same thing.’

He regarded her with quiet amusement. ‘There’s little difference. This is merely the seal of official approval. Not easy to obtain, I may say, for all my sister’s jesting.’

‘It is not surprising. You are her only brother. I should have felt the same if Hugh had ever...’ Her voice trailed off as realisation struck with the force of a hammer blow. ‘But he won’t, will he?’

Ban’s amusement faded and he made no reply but his silence spoke louder than words. Isabelle looked away quickly as water welled in her eyes.

‘He’ll never find a bride and bring her back to Castlemora; never watch his children grow up.’

‘Isabelle, don’t, sweetheart.’

The concern in his voice caused her chest to constrict as though a suffocating weight were pressed there. She tried to draw breath but it emerged as a choking sob. Then the tears spilled over. Mortified, she tried unsuccessfully to stop them.

‘I’m s-sorry...’

He shook his head. ‘You don’t have to apologise. I know very well how it feels to lose your family and your home.’

That quiet empathy was her undoing and the dam burst. Across the hall the buzz of conversation faded, and curious looks came their way. Ashlynn rose from her seat, meeting her brother’s gaze with a questioning look. Seeing her about to start across the room he held up a warning hand and shook his head. Then, gently and firmly, he guided Isabelle away.

When they reached her chamber she collapsed on the bed. She seemed almost unaware of him now, entirely lost to her grief, her entire body shaken by racking sobs. He made no attempt to check them, knowing that this was long overdue. Instead he covered her with a blanket and then left her alone, closing the door quietly behind him.

He was in no mood to return to the hall and face the questions that would inevitably follow so he went out on to the roof terrace. Dusk was settling over the glen now and the air was cool and fragrant with the scent of heather. He leaned against the parapet and breathed it gratefully. Isabelle’s grief had touched a chord in him that resonated deeply. It also hurt in a way that he could never have anticipated.

* * *

The morning was far advanced before she put in an appearance next day. Ban had been speaking with Ashlynn but he broke off the conversation as Isabelle entered, and he went to meet her. She looked pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes. The lids were still a little swollen and tinged with pink but otherwise she looked composed.

‘Come and sit down.’ He led her to a chair, regarding her in concern. ‘Are you hungry? I’ll have one of the servants fetch food.’ He caught Ashlynn’s eye and saw her nod.

‘No, I thank you.’ She met his gaze. ‘I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I must have embarrassed you.’

‘You have no need to apologise and I wasn’t embarrassed; only worried.’

‘I didn’t mean to make such a spectacle.’

‘Grief comes when it will,’ he replied, ‘and it must find an outlet.’

‘Well, it definitely did that.’

‘Aye. My tunic is still very damp.’

She managed a wan smile. ‘I shall try not to ruin any more of them.’

‘It’ll survive.’ He glanced up as a servant appeared with a platter of food and a jug of ale. ‘Which is more than you will if you don’t eat something.’ He poured a cup of ale and handed it to her, then set about slicing bread and a little meat. ‘Here.’

She ate it to please him rather than because she wanted to but, having done so, began to feel slightly better.

‘Would you like to get out for a while?’ he asked. ‘Some fresh air might do you good.’

‘All right.’ As she said it she knew it wasn’t on account of fresh air, no matter how beneficial. It was because she wanted to be in his company.

‘There’s a new foal in the stables. Would you like to see it?’

‘Very much.’

The children looked up from their game. Then Robert piped up. ‘Can we come too, Uncle Ban?’

‘Aye, why not?’

They let out a cheer and ran to join him. Isabelle watched in quiet amusement. It was another side to him, one that not so long ago she would never have suspected. Yet it was evident that he held his young nephews in affection, and they him.

He gestured towards the door. ‘Shall we go, Lady Isabelle?’

* * *

They reached the stables a short time later. The foal and her dam were in a loosebox at the far end. Looking at the new arrival Isabelle couldn’t help but smile. It was a filly. With her spindly legs and woolly coat and absurd little tail she was thoroughly engaging. As yet she was still shy, staying close to the mare, but curious too, regarding the visitors with huge liquid brown eyes.

‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’ said Ban.

Isabelle nodded. ‘I think she’s wonderful.’

‘She was born last night.’

‘What colour do you think she’ll be eventually?’

‘My guess is bay like her dam. She’ll likely make the same size too, or a little more.’

Robert looked up at his uncle. ‘Can we ride her soon?’

Ban shook his head. ‘Not for some time yet. Not until she’s grown bigger and is strong enough to carry a rider.’ Seeing the child’s disappointment he added, ‘You’ll be a lot bigger yourself by then.’

‘Will I be big enough to learn swordcraft?’

‘Aye, you will.’

Robert beamed. Then Jamie drew his attention and the two fell into their own conversation. Isabelle surveyed them for a moment or two and smiled sadly, thinking that Ashlynn was fortunate indeed.

‘Now that I’m on the mend we must go out for a ride,’ said Ban. ‘I’d like to show you the rest of Glengarron.’

‘I’d like to see it, but not until your shoulder is up to it. I’d hate to be responsible for your suffering a relapse.’

‘It’s improving all the time. Exercise can only do it good.’ He surveyed her speculatively. ‘Of course, the pace might have to be slower than you’re used to, for a while at least.’

She laughed. ‘Ouch. I suppose I deserved that.’

‘Let’s just say that your predilection for speed is...memorable.’

‘I shall not indulge it just yet.’ She let her hand rest a moment over the site of the injury. ‘The healers might take a terrible revenge otherwise.’

Her touch was light and fleeting but his pulse quickened a little in response.

‘It might be unwise to cross them,’ he replied. ‘They have a formidable collection of medicines at their disposal.’

‘I shall heed the advice.’

They left the stables and, while the children ran on ahead, strolled back towards the tower.

‘Are you feeling a little better now?’ he asked.

‘Much better, I thank you.’

‘You’ve had a bad time, and then been uprooted as well. I realise it hasn’t been easy for you.’

‘No, but everyone has been most kind.’

‘I remember I felt like a fish out of water when I first came here.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I had made up my mind to leave and seek service with the king, but then Iain invited me to stay and ride with him instead.’

‘You have never regretted it, I imagine.’

‘Never. He’s a man I esteem very highly.’

‘His reputation doesn’t exactly tally with the man I’ve met,’ she replied.

‘Marriage has mellowed him somewhat, but don’t be fooled. There’s still an iron hand in the velvet glove.’

She smiled. ‘Your sister is a remarkable woman nevertheless.’

‘Yes, she is. And so are you.’ They reached the tower doorway and he paused at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Kindred spirits, I’d say.’

His words produced a golden glow deep inside. Nor could she fail to be aware of his nearness now or their relative isolation. Would he kiss her? It was painful to realise how much she wanted him to, how much she had missed close physical contact with him in the past few weeks.

For a moment or two he didn’t move and her heart sank. Then, slowly, he reached for her waist, drawing her to him. His lips brushed hers, tentative, searching; then gradually becoming more insistent. Isabelle swayed towards him, closing her eyes, yielding to the embrace, her need keen, revelling in the familiar taste of him, in the musky scent of his skin. Pressing her hips against his she let her tongue probe his mouth, no longer caring if her manner appeared bold, knowing only that she wanted him, demanding his response.

It was instant. He crushed her closer and the kiss grew passionate. Deep inside a small spark flickered into life and created its own pool of warmth. And then she was kissing him back with equal abandon, avid, hungry, her hands clasping his buttocks, pulling him nearer. Almost immediately she felt him grow hard. Lifting her feet off the floor he carried her across the passageway and into the small storeroom beyond, heeling the door shut behind them before tipping her backwards on to a pile of filled sacks and following her down.

BOOK: Joanna Fulford
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