by Tessa Murran
‘At the King’s behest, Hugh,’ replied Cormac evenly.
‘Aye, whichever it is, I want something in return. I have six worthless daughters. Look at them, cluttering up my keep. It is hard to find worthy husbands in times of war - too many stout, young lads dying all over the place. My girls are lonely and not getting any younger. If Lyall takes one for a bride, I will pledge all to King Robert. How about it, eh?’
Lyall swallowed hard. Finding the right words to reject all six of Hugh’s daughters, while they looked on, would not be easy.
‘You honour me with your proposal, Laird, but I have no intention of marrying. Given that I am soon to besiege Berwick, and will, in all possibility, lay down my life for my King, I would hate to turn any daughter of yours into a widow.’
‘Ah, don’t be such a grim one,’ replied Hugh. ‘If you survive, which you surely will, with the support of all the clans and a vast force raised, you can return to put a smile on my daughter’s face.’
‘With respect, I must decline, I am all for war and have no time for love or marriage.’
‘Look, just take one!’ snapped Hugh. ‘I’m not inclined to any of them in particular, and there are lots to choose from, all shapes and sizes. If Isla is not to your liking, perhaps Geilis here will do just as well,’ he said, beckoning forward a tall lass with dark, stringy hair and an angry scowl. ‘She’s skinny,’ continued Hugh, ‘but she’s stronger than she looks and will give you a lively ride, I am sure.’
Cormac stood up, and Lyall could have sworn he was stifling a grin. ‘Hugh, with great respect, if my brother is not inclined to be wed, that is his choice, and no reflection of the worthiness of your daughters, who are, indeed, most comely.’
‘Oh, so I am to make sacrifices and you Buchanans cannot. Seal this alliance with marriage, and our two clans can be stronger for it. You have enemies Buchanan, I know it well that the Gowan’s still harbour hate for you, despite your marriage. You took a wife you did not want for the sake of the King, why can’t your brother do the same?’
‘Because the King is not ordering him to wed as he did me, you fool. Your daughters are not part of this bargain, Hugh, let the matter go.’
‘You insult me, you Buchanans, in my own hall. I know why your brother doesn’t want my girls. I heard rumours he is hard for an English whore he brought back from his latest campaign. Aye, he favours the English over his own kind, the traitor.’
‘Name me a traitor again, and I will run you through,’ snarled Lyall rising to his feet.
Isla Gordon squeaked in alarm, and all the other girls looked daggers at him.
‘If your brother does not think my daughters worthy, then he can get out, Cormac,’ shouted Hugh. ‘He has shamed my poor girls in their own keep.’
‘You have shamed them, ambushing me like this,’ snarled Lyall. He turned to the young women around him. ‘Forgive me, I meant no slight to your beauty and now, ladies, I must leave.’
‘Aye, run away to your lonely bed, Lyall Buchanan, and rub yourself while you dream of your red wench and her fine, English ways.’
As Lyall headed out of the hall, he heard Cormac bellow, ‘Enough with the polite talk Hugh, let us speak plain, and by God, you’d better start being reasonable, or you will face King Robert’s wrath, and mine.’
***
A good while later, Lyall lay on his pallet before the fire, in a dingy chamber, seething, and unable to rest. A light tap on the door had him alert and on his feet in moments. It swung slowly open, and Isla crept in, shutting the door behind her. She was barely dressed, in just her shift, which left little to the imagination.
‘What are you doing?’ he hissed.
‘Hush, we have to be quiet,’ she said, bringing a finger to her lips. ‘I thought you may be lonely in your cold bed. I thought to warm it for you.’
‘No, you can’t.’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘If your father finds you here, he’ll have my giblets in a heap on the floor, along with my balls. You’d better go now.’
‘Oh, he’s still in the hall, barking at your brother, and will be ‘til dawn, most likely.’
She sidled up to him and pulled her shift down from her shoulders, revealing pale, pendulous breasts.
‘I know my way around a man, and there’s none as pretty as you around here.’ She pressed her hands to his chest and licked her lips. Lyall was reminded of cat, about to pounce on a mouse.
‘Stop. My heart belongs to another, Isla.’
‘And what about your cock?’ she said, taking hold of him between the legs.
Lyall’s manhood stirred of its own account, but still, he took her by the shoulders and pushed her slowly away. He did so carefully, as she literally had his future in her hands.
‘Isla, no.’
She did not let go, so he reached down and peeled her fingers off of him.
‘Come on, Lyall, don’t be shy. Let us lie down together. You will not be disappointed, and you can handle me as roughly as you like, and do it as many times as you like.’
Lyall lost patience with the girl. He bent low and hoisted her over his shoulder. She was heavier than he expected, but he strode quickly to the door and tore it open, and, after a quick look around to see that no one was watching, he flung her down. Isla lost her balance and staggered back, falling onto her bottom in an ungainly heap.
‘Ow, that hurt!’
‘I thought that’s what you wanted, and it’s the only rough handling you’ll be getting from me tonight or any night.’
‘Why you impotent bastard,’ she shrieked. Isla’s sweet face twisted in anger.
‘If I’m a bastard you won’t want to lie with me, will you? And if you think you can trap me into an unwelcome marriage, you can think again. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Get someone to catch us together in bed, so you could say I took your virtue?’ He stepped closer and loomed over her. ‘But how could I possibly shame you when you have no virtue to speak of?’
Isla was frightened now. She scurried away from him on her backside, and Lyall felt a stab of pity. Perhaps her wretch of a father had put her up to it.
Either way, he was not hanging around to find out.
Chapter Nineteen
Cormac had been relentless on the long ride home, to the point where Lyall longed to punch him just to make him shut his mouth. Now they were in sight of Beharra, he had decided to bring the whole mortifying affair up again.
‘Shall I tell the women when we get back to Beharra about Isla Gordon? How they will howl with laughter at the thought of you fighting for your virtue.’
‘That’s not how it was, and you know it.’
‘Well, you were certainly not fighting for hers, by the sound of it. Not like you to turn down a tumble though. Perhaps your interest lies elsewhere, Lyall?’
‘It was a trap, as I said, Cormac, now let it lie.’
‘Maybe Isla was driven mad with lust at your pretty face, brother. I always said it is possible to be too handsome for your own good. I had to forsake a warm bed and ale for the sake of your blushes.’
‘You were lucky I dragged you out of there before one of his other daughters tried her luck with you.’
‘She’d have none, for I am happy and wed. Have you stopped to consider the notion, Lyall?’
‘I have but one mistress, and she is Scotland. I will be back fighting soon enough, my life is one long round of blood and death. I’ll not find happiness in any woman’s arms, not for long anyway. Why leave some poor lass a widow with bairns clinging to her skirts, and me dead on some battlefield somewhere.’
‘Such darkness, Lyall. Take some advice from one who has been alongside you on those battlefields. You must first live before you die, and you, brother, seem to have but half a life. I know there is something you want, and you should take it, while it is in your grasp.’
‘And what is it I want, Cormac?’
His brother just smiled. ‘Last night, there was a reason you spurned Isla, and we both know that reas
on bides at Beharra and has hair like fire.’
Lyall spurred his horse forward in a fury and into a gallop. His brother’s words angered him because there was truth in them. He flew on down the hill and thundered through Beharra’s gates, barely stopping long enough to throw the reins to Ramsay as he rushed to greet him.
‘Where is Giselle?’ he said
‘In the wash house, working.’
Lyall shot him a hard glance and stormed over to the low building nearby. He barged in, all fury and rush, and stopped dead in his tracks.
Giselle was wringing out laundry over a barrel, singing to herself in a gentle voice. Her cheeks were red, and she reached up to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear. So far away was she, that Lyall could stand, unseen, and just take in the sight of her.
Lyall felt his heart settle from its rush. He felt quiet push out the noise filling his head. He had missed Giselle. He could not deny it. This quiet English girl with her gentle eyes and sweet face had invaded his thoughts in the same way that her countrymen had invaded Scotland, and she was just as difficult to dislodge.
This soft violence that stirred his soul, this thing which felt like love, could not be. He would not allow it, for it would turn him into a hopeless slave. But if he took Giselle, as he longed to do, he could cut out the weakness before it took hold. Once he had assuaged his lust for her, it would all be over, and he would be free of this spell. A few words of love whispered, a few strokes of his hands, a deep look into her eyes and she would fall into his bed like a ripe apple from a tree. It was such a simple thing for him to do.
‘Giselle,’ he said.
She turned in surprise, and her face lit up in an unguarded way. That smile, oh that smile was light, entering the dark places of his heart.
‘I am back from my travels.’
‘So I see,’ she said, the smile fading as he came closer.
‘How do you fare? Did you miss me?’ Lyall’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. He sounded like a pathetic, needy fool.
‘I am hale, I thank you,’ she replied. ‘When did you return?’
‘Just now. We rode hard to get home before sunset. The skies were kind to us, and the weather held thank goodness. We have slept in the open many nights, and I am sore from being in the saddle day after day. So it gladdens me to be back home.’
Gods, any minute now, he would literally bore her to death. Giselle stood there, not saying anything, and so Lyall shifted awkwardly under her gaze.
‘Why are you in here? Have they been putting you to work? I shall have words with Ravenna about this.’ He rushed up and took her hand in his, feeling callouses on her palm. ‘They had no right to do this. I didn’t leave orders for you to become her servant.’
‘No, Lyall, it is my choice. I wanted to work. I cannot be idle all day, and I feel better if I earn my keep.’
‘Your keep?’
‘Yes, I have been learning how Beharra runs, and Morna and Ravenna have been kind enough to teach me. Truly, I am happiest working here, where I am helping.’
‘Right. Good,’ he said. Giselle was trembling under his touch.
‘You were gone a good while, Lyall.’ She pulled her hand away.
‘Aye, we were visiting local clans hereabouts, and they insisted on extending their hospitality.’ Much more than hospitality, he thought, as Isla’s half-naked body slid into his mind. No, he would not think of that lass now, next to Giselle. He would not pollute the perfect innocence of this girl before him with the memory of Isla’s base charms.
‘Did you miss me, Giselle?’
‘You already asked me that,’ she said, eyeing him warily. ‘You left without saying goodbye, so I had no choice but to miss you.’
‘Aye, well, I was in a fury with myself.’
‘Was it because of what I did…let you do, I mean.’ She bit her lip hard and looked down at the ground. ‘Do you think ill of me, Lyall? Have I shamed myself in your eyes?’
‘No, no, that was all my doing,’ he said, bringing his hand to her cheek. ‘You could never shame yourself before me.’
She smiled. ‘In that case, I have to own that I have missed you, Lyall. It has been very lonely around here, though Ravenna and Morna have been kind. And, captor or not, I am glad you are home safe.’
‘I can be more than your captor, Giselle.’
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head with a tenderness that surprised him.
‘Lyall Buchanan,’ came a shout from outside. It was a woman’s voice, shrill with anger.
He froze, his jaw tightening.
‘Lyall Buchanan, I know you are in there, so come out and face me.’
He stormed outside and was confronted with a blonde woman with a squalling brat braced against her hip. Her face was dirty, hair matted, like dead grass in winter, clothes almost rags, and she was bone thin.
‘Lyall?’ He heard Giselle come alongside him.
The woman glowered in Giselle’s direction and then turned to him and sneered, ‘I heard you had an English whore in tow. Is this her?’
‘Rhoslyn, what are you doing here?’
‘I heard you were back, so I came to see for myself how you shame me.’
‘Rhoslyn, we have had this out before.’ Lyall noticed Cormac watching, from across the yard.
‘You shame me, Lyall, bringing this harlot into Beharra and bedding her for all to gossip and snigger about it. She is a whore, and she is English. How can you spurn me for her?’ Her voice rose, bringing onlookers closer.
‘I do not spurn you, Rhoslyn.’ He held out a hand to her, but she took a step back. The child started to cry louder.
‘How could you leave me to fend for myself, while you go and take your pleasure of other women? You are a heartless fiend, Lyall Buchanan, and she is the Devil’s whore.’
She came closer to Giselle, who was staring at her, wide-eyed.
‘I curse you, whore,’ spat Rhoslyn. ‘I curse you to hell and all its furies. The Devil will come and take you, for that is what you are, a whore of Satan.’
‘Enough, Rhoslyn!’ he shouted, getting between her and Giselle.
She fell against him. ‘Will you not come back to me, Lyall,’ her voice was wheedling and pathetic. ‘Will you not come back, if not for my sake, for the sake of your child.’
Lyall glanced back at Giselle. The look on her face was awful as she turned and ran from him.
***
Lyall caught up with her in the great hall and grabbed hold of her arm.
‘Let go,’ she said, trying to shake him off.
‘Not until you hear me out,’ he snarled.
‘‘What is there to say? You have a child, and you have abandoned it. Is that woman your wife?’
‘No, let me explain.’
Jealousy took Giselle, like a knife to the heart, but she kept her voice steady. ‘You don’t owe me an explanation. I am your hostage, a person passing through your life for a few weeks. You don’t need to tell me your secrets.’
‘Giselle you know we are more to each other than that. Look, there were words I wanted to say just now, but Rhoslyn has come along and ruined it.’ He sighed and continued. ‘She is not my wife. I had a fondness for her some years ago, back when she was bonnie, and it was hard to resist her charms. Rhoslyn was free with other men than me, but I think she cared for me in her own way. When I left for war, she was angry that I hadn’t offered for her, but as I said, there were others sniffing around her.’
‘And the child?’
‘Would you have me give my name to a child when I know it cannot be mine? I lay with her and went away for over a year. When I returned, the child she claimed was mine was already a few months old.’
‘Are you sure it is not yours?’
‘The timing would say otherwise. It definitely cannot be mine.’
‘But she is alone, and the child needs a father.’
‘Giselle, it is not of my blood. Should I acknowledge a child as mine just because she wants it t
o be so? Rhoslyn wed another man after I went off to war, and, in truth, she was free with her favours with many men before that. Now her husband is dead, and her mind is broken by grief and disappointment.’
‘And her heart is broken - by you.’
‘It saddens me to see her now, but I have done right by her. I have given her a cottage, not far from here, and protection, and she does not go poor or hungry, nor will she ever.’
‘Why would you do that, if the child is not yours?’
‘Because I was once fond of her?’
‘Fond? Is that all you feel when you lie with a woman, Lyall?.’
‘So what if it is? Women can lie and cheat, and they shift like the wind. Perhaps I should be angry at you for thinking me the kind of man to abandon my own kin. If you believe I could do that, then you don’t know me at all, and you never will. It angers me to be judged so ill by one I have tried to protect.’
‘Then we must pray news of my ransom comes soon so we can be free of each other,’ she said bitterly.
‘Aye we must,’ he said through gritted teeth, grabbing her arm in a fury.
‘Let go of me, Lyall Buchanan.’
‘Gladly,’ he said, flinging her arm away.
Chapter Twenty
It had been two days since Rhoslyn’s visit, and Giselle was still avoiding him. Lyall watched her stride across the yard with a bowl of scraps for the chickens, balanced against her hip. She did not look in his direction, and it irked him, but he would not approach her first. By Christ, and all that was holy, he had treated Giselle better than most men would in his position, yet still, she thought him dishonourable. If that was her opinion of him, maybe he should live up to it and…’
‘Cormac, you are insufferable.’ Morna’s voice was a shriek.
‘And you are wilful and disobedient,’ shouted his brother. ‘I should give you a good thrashing.’
Oh God, not this again.
Morna rushed up to him. ‘Lyall, tell Cormac that I do not want a husband, and I don’t care how grand, or how rich, he is.’
‘What husband?’ replied Lyall wearily.
Cormac came up to him, rolling his eyes. ‘Ian Drummond came to call seeking leave to court Morna. For some reason, and I can’t think why, he has decided he is in love with our sister.’