Joanna Fulford

by His Lady of Castlemora

  He heaved another sigh. ‘It was my fault. I spoke more harshly than I’d intended and I hurt her feelings.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should apologise.’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘Well, it would be a good start.’

  ‘Damn it, Ash. Do you think I don’t know that?’

  ‘So the difficulty is...?’

  ‘I fear she won’t want to listen.’

  ‘Perhaps you should give her the benefit of the doubt.’

  * * *

  Their conversation remained much on his mind and the more he dwelt on it the more irksome his invalid status became. He knew he was going to have to talk to Isabelle and that was going to be impossible while he was confined to bed. After four more days he could stand it no longer and announced his intention of getting up.

  Ashlynn sighed. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be of any use to tell you to wait a little longer?’

  ‘No use at all,’ he replied.

  In fact his shoulder pained him very little as long as he didn’t try to use his arm, and the gash along his ribs was now mending to a vivid scar.

  ‘I’ll help you into your shirt then, shall I?’

  ‘I need to shave as well.’

  ‘Why can’t you just grow a beard like other men?’

  ‘Because it itches and drives me mad.’

  ‘You’re already mad, Brother. The beard has nothing to do with it.’

  He returned a quelling look. Ashlynn grinned.

  * * *

  It took a while to accomplish both tasks but eventually it was done. Ban thanked her and then turned towards the door. As he reached the threshold he hesitated. Dark Mount was quite large and there were innumerable places a person might be. He didn’t think his strength equal yet to an exhaustive search.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure, but you could try the roof terrace.’

  It wasn’t far and he reached the door a few minutes later. Taking a deep breath he opened it and went out. The terrace was empty. He was aware of disappointment but at the same time it felt good to be outdoors again, to breathe the free air and feel the sun on his face. He strolled to the parapet and looked out across the glen, thinking of the men who would never look upon it again. As soon as he could mount a horse he would go and see Jock’s wife. He owed her that courtesy.

  It was the sound of a creaking hinge that drew him back and he glanced round. His heartbeat quickened a little as Isabelle stepped out on to the terrace. She didn’t notice his presence at first, but, having closed the door behind her, looked up and then stopped in her tracks.

  ‘Ban.’ The word was accompanied by a spontaneous smile. Then it faded into something closer to quiet consternation. ‘I...I thought you still abed.’

  ‘I found it increasingly tedious.’

  ‘Well, I am glad to see you so far recovered.’

  ‘I have had good care though I fear I was not always a good patient.’

  ‘Nell says that fighting men rarely are.’

  ‘She’s right. By nature we do not take kindly to being shut up for any length of time.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you to enjoy your new-found freedom.’ She turned towards the door.

  ‘Isabelle, don’t go.’ The tone was midway between a command and a plea but it checked her long enough for him to close the gap between them. ‘I must speak with you.’

  With an effort she faced him. ‘My lord?’

  ‘What I’m trying say is that I’m sorry for my churlish behaviour the other day.’

  It clearly took her by surprise, he noted with wry amusement, but then it would, given his previous manner towards her.

  ‘You were not yourself,’ she replied.

  ‘No, but that isn’t a good enough excuse.’ He paused. ‘I would have apologised sooner but you did not return.’

  ‘I thought you would not welcome my company.’

  ‘I can understand why you might have thought so, but still I hoped that you would come.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Very much so.’

  ‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘I thought...’

  ‘Thought what?’

  ‘That you would still be angry.’

  ‘I was not angry with you. It’s just that what we spoke of then is something I have preferred to forget, and I over-reacted.’

  ‘I did not mean to open old wounds.’

  ‘I know.’ He sighed. ‘The past has a habit of returning to haunt us.’

  ‘I think I will never be free of it. Not of the memories or of Murdo.’

  ‘He will be held to account by and by for the wrongs he has done you.’

  ‘The greatest wrong he did me was when he injured you.’

  He blinked. While he knew she was grateful for her recent deliverance, this implied a rather deeper feeling than gratitude. It was disturbing on many levels, like the way she was looking at him now. Of course it would be easy to read more into it than she’d intended. He probed a little further.

  ‘Would it have grieved you then, if I had been killed along with Jock?’

  ‘How can you ask that?’

  ‘If I had been you would be free.’

  She looked into his face. ‘I could not forget you so easily.’

  ‘I’m flattered.’

  ‘It wasn’t flattery. I am your wife, Ban. What hurts you also hurts me.’

  Her words suddenly swept him into much deeper water and they filled him with disquiet. He had hoped that, if they were eventually able to put their relationship on a regular footing, she might one day come to care for him, but it wasn’t supposed to happen yet.

  ‘I am honoured, truly.’

  ‘I did not know it until I thought you might die; that I might lose you for good.’

  The look in her eyes was more eloquent than words and his heart lurched. She was standing very close to him. The urge to take her in his arms was almost overpowering; his entire being craved the touch and taste and scent of her, but if he followed his inclination it wasn’t going to end with a kiss. And even a kiss was too dangerous. A kiss now meant emotional reciprocation and he couldn’t give in to the temptation. It would be no better than a false promise, an earnest of something he might not be able to give.

  ‘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

  Isabelle 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 hea
d. 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.’