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Authors: Joanna Fulford

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BOOK: The Laird's Captive Wife
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‘He has the look of you too.’

‘The hair and the eyes,’ she agreed. ‘A family trait.’

‘He’s a good-looking youth, and a brave one I’m thinking.’

‘He was always thus. Nothing would ever stop Ban when he had it in mind to do something, no matter how reckless or how dangerous.’

‘And you were right beside him or I miss my guess.’

It drew a faint smile and he saw the blue eyes soften as she looked into the fire. He wondered what she was remembering. There was so much he wanted to know but still he would not try and force her confidence. She was wary of him and with good reason. Accordingly he kept silent and waited.

‘We had so many adventures as children, often to our father’s grave displeasure. It didn’t stop us though. The risk seemed worth the thrashing somehow. We had our share of those for though our father was not a cruel man he was strict. There were limits to what he would tolerate.’

‘And you pushed those limits.’

‘Often. And many times we got away with it. My father said I was a hoyden and that I needed—’ She broke off and her cheeks reddened a little.

‘Needed what?’

Ashlynn shook her head.

He wondered what she had been about to say but let it go, being unwilling to stop her in this expansive mood. He poured more wine into her cup.

She drank it down and felt its pleasing warmth spread through her. Once she glanced covertly at the man beside her for she recalled all too well what her father had once said in a fit of exasperation:
‘You need breaking to bridle, my girl, and somewhere is the man to do it. You need a husband and one with a firm hand too.’
Would he be amused to know that the prediction had come true, in part at least? Perhaps so, but never would he have dreamed to see her wed to the Laird of Glengarron.

‘My father and older brother fought at Hastings,’ she went on. ‘When the battle was lost they managed to escape and return home. Both my brothers dreamed that one day the Norman tyrant would be overthrown but my father called it a foolish dream. He said they were there to stay. He would not permit Ethelred or Ban to have any part in the rising against de Comyn’s men.’ She paused. ‘Perhaps he should have. At least then Heslingfield would have burned for a reason.’

Iain caught the note of unwonted bitterness in her voice but he could not blame her.

‘Innocence or guilt matter not to the Normans,’ he replied. ‘What happened at Heslingfield is being repeated all across the land ’twixt York and Durham. The Conqueror means to crush Northumbria into the dust.’

‘To what end? So that he can be king of a graveyard?’

‘To make it absolutely clear that he will suffer no challenge to his power or to his authority.’

‘It serves but to make him a more hated tyrant.’

‘Hated, aye. But feared more.’

‘Must a man be feared in order to govern?’

‘Aye, he must, but he has no need of the kind of brutality the Normans rejoice in.’

Ashlynn fell into reflective silence. He saw that she had stopped shaking now and the warmth of the fire and the drink had made her more relaxed. The fur cloak had slid back off her shoulders revealing the mane of tawny hair beneath. In the light of the fire it was shot with red and took on a resinous sheen that served to enhance its beauty. Seeing it, Iain found himself wanting to touch it, to run his fingers through it. He wanted to put his arms around her, to hold her close and kiss away her pain. However, he did none of those things. A fragile bond was being established in this room and he would do nothing to destroy it.

She looked up and surveyed him with curiosity. ‘Do your men fear you?’

‘They have nothing to fear from me.’

‘But they do not cross you.’

‘That is why they have nothing to fear.’

It drew a smile from her. ‘And those men who do cross you?’

‘Only do it once.’

The words were lightly spoken but their import was not and she shivered inwardly. However, it was not totally due to fear. It was a feeling akin to one she had known before, when she and Ban were about to embark on another reckless adventure. It was not totally divorced from apprehension but underlying it was something else, something concerned with excitement and danger and the allure of the forbidden. Regarding him now, it occurred to her that the face she had earlier considered merely arresting was very much more than that, like the dark eyes burning into hers now. The expression there was familiar and disturbing. Shaken by the direction of her thoughts Ashlynn decided it was the wine talking and sought safer ground.

‘When can I see Ban again?’

‘You will see him tomorrow. As he grows stronger you will be able to visit him for longer periods.’

‘How long was he unconscious?’

‘Several days. Then he was delirious with fever. For a while even Meg thought he might not live.’

Ashlynn felt only relief and thankfulness. She had been hurt by his failure to tell her but that had been a misjudgement on his part, not done out of malice. She saw that now. In the immediate shock after finding Ban alive she had been overwrought and that, on top of the existing concerns, had caused her to overreact. The knowledge brought a sharp twinge of guilt. The reality was that he had given her back her brother, an unlooked-for gift of inestimable price.

‘I did not thank you for saving Ban but I do so now, and unreservedly.’

The tone was gentle and tender, different from any she had used hitherto, and the look that accompanied it likewise. It was also sincere, a realisation that warmed his blood more thoroughly than the wine. With an effort he controlled it.

‘You should rather thank Fergus and Dougal. ’Twas they who found him.’

‘But I think it was you who made it a rule never to leave injured men behind,’ she replied. ‘And you who had him brought here and tended. Were it not so he would never have survived.’

‘I’m right glad he has, lass.’

‘You have shown him much kindness. More than I could ever have supposed.’

‘You find it hard to believe then that simple kindness exists among the Scottish savages?’

She reddened a little. ‘The tales about you paint a different picture.’

‘Ah, and which particular tales would they be?’

‘Tales of murder and kidnap, of rape and theft.’

‘It is true I have killed many men but they had just as much chance of survival as I did. Every warrior knows the realities of combat,’ he replied. ‘I have kidnapped, but ’twas a man as it happened. His father tried to renege on a business agreement and I had to find another means to get what I was owed. I have known different women but never raped one. As to the rest I confess it freely, but I have only ever taken from those who had plenty to give.’

‘I’m glad to learn that you live by such a strong moral code.’

‘I live by a different code from the one you may be used to, lass, but it is not entirely without honour.’

‘No, I think it is not.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving Ban.’

The dark eyes met and held her own. ‘No thanks are necessary and I do not want your gratitude, Ashlynn. If you would kiss me let it be for myself.’

Chapter Seven

I
n the days that followed Ashlynn spent as much time as she could with Ban, though mindful not to tire him. He was still very weak but the terrifying pallor was gone and a healthier colour returned to his cheeks. Moreover, he could take nourishment now and, by the end of a week, was propped up on cushions and looking about him with interest. In the first days of their reunion they had not talked much, being content to know merely that the other was there. Later, as he regained a little strength, they spoke more, of different things, trivial enough in their way, each glad just to hear the other’s voice. Sometimes, when he was asleep, she would sit and watch him, willing strength to return and restore him to full health.

She had been sitting thus rapt in thought one afternoon when he awoke. She saw him smile.

‘Still here?’

‘Where else?’

‘I thought I would never see you again.’

‘Nor I you.’

For several moments the emotion was too great for words. Ban’s sombre gaze was fixed on her face for there was yet a shadow over the joy of reunion. He chose his next words with care. ‘There are still many things I would know, Ashlynn.’

‘I will tell you whatever you wish.’

‘Then tell me what happened after the Normans left. Everything that I have missed.’

‘Very well. But I warn you, it’s a long story.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Taking a deep breath she began to speak, relating the story as she knew it, of her treatment at Fitzurse’s hands, of her flight from the barn and her meeting with Iain. How he had saved her from the icy river and brought her along with him, and how she had discovered only later who he was. She spoke of the journey north and of her marriage, leaving out nothing, or almost nothing. His face darkened as he listened and she saw his hand clench on the coverlet.

‘He forced you to wed him?’

‘He married me at the king’s command. For Malcolm it was the obvious solution and the one to cause him least trouble.’ She sighed. ‘There could be no place at Dunfermline for a penniless, friendless girl and a Saxon to boot.’

‘You had me.’

‘I did not know that and Iain did not tell me because he did not think you would live. I genuinely believe that now.’

‘He has not hurt you?’

‘No. On the contrary, he has kept me from hurt, even at the risk of his own life.’

Ban relaxed a little. ‘I cannot say I like it, Ashlynn. The man has a reputation of the blackest kind. However, I owe him much.’

‘We both do.’

‘So it seems.’ He paused. ‘And if, as you say, he saved your life and has since treated you well then I have no cause to feel animosity towards him.’

‘He has treated me well. I have no grounds for complaint on that score.’

Ban shook his head as he tried to assimilate what he had heard. ‘It is most strange to hear such welcome and unwelcome things at once. Perhaps his reputation has become exaggerated.’

‘I think perhaps it has, but I can only speak as I find.’

‘And what do you find?’

‘A man of his word, a leader, a fighter, one whom other men follow.’ Even as she said it her mind added,
a man unlike any other
. ‘He lives by his own rules but he is not dishonourable.’

He shot her a penetrating look. ‘Do you love him?’

Ashlynn’s cheeks grew pink. What was love exactly? She had heard it described as all encompassing, unchanging in the face of time and adversity, a passion so strong that death could not conquer it. A passion she had only dreamed of. The kind of passion that Iain had felt for Eloise.

‘I…I respect him.’

‘I see. Well, respect is a good enough basis for marriage. ’Tis said the rest comes with time.’

Ashlynn bit her lip. She would not tell him that respect was as far as it was ever going to go, or could ever go. Unwilling to linger in such dangerous waters she turned the conversation to other things. However, her brother’s words stayed with her a long time afterwards. They might have comforted her had she not already known that her husband’s abiding passion now was for revenge.

* * *

Unbeknown to Ashlynn, Iain paid her brother a visit of his own. He had long meditated it but wanted to give her space and time on her own with Ban, and the young man a chance to recover from his wounds. However, he also knew that the lad did not view the marriage with favour. Ordinarily Iain would not have cared a fig for any man’s opinion on the matter but things now were not quite so simple. He could not live in such proximity to his wife’s brother and be at odds with him. The nettle must be grasped. Accordingly he chose his moment when he knew Ashlynn was not by and presented himself at the bedside.

While Ban did not greet him with open hostility his expression was carefully neutral. Iain concealed a smile knowing the lad was reserving judgement.

‘You are making good progress I see.’

‘Yes, I thank you.’ The tone was courteous but stiff.

Iain gestured to the stool that Ashlynn had not long since vacated. ‘May I?’

‘As you wish.’

For a moment they regarded each other in silent mutual appraisal like two combatants weighing each other up.

‘I think that there are things you must want to know,’ said Iain. ‘If you wish it you may ask what you will now and I will answer truthfully.’

For a moment he saw surprise in the blue eyes, then it was gone and the neutral expression returned. The lad was evidently better at hiding his thoughts than his sister was.

Ban nodded, his gaze never leaving the other man’s face. ‘It is true that I have questions to ask. Ashlynn has told me much but…’

‘But?’

‘There are things she did not say.’

Iain was quite sure of it. He waited.

‘I cannot pretend that I was overjoyed when I learned of your marriage.’

‘I had gathered as much.’

‘But she speaks well of you.’

Iain only just managed to hide his surprise. ‘Better perhaps than you think I deserve.’

‘You do have a certain reputation.’

‘True.’

‘However that may be, my lord, she has told me how you saved her life and how you took on the role of her protector.’ Ban paused. ‘For that I must thank you.’

‘Believe me, it is an honour.’

Ban searched that handsome face for any sign of mockery but he found none. The tone had been earnest too. Was it mere smooth courtesy or could it be that the man cared rather more than he let on?

‘My sister and I are very close. Her well being and her happiness are important to me.’

‘To me too. I promise you to look to the first, and that I’ll strive by every means for the second.’

Ban unbent a little. ‘She tells me that you have treated her well.’

For the second time Iain concealed surprise, feeling strangely pleased. His wife had demonstrated a degree of loyalty he had not expected. Did that stem from mere gratitude or could it be that she had warmed towards him of late? The notion produced an answering heat within, the kind he had not expected to feel again.

BOOK: The Laird's Captive Wife
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