‘The wrestling bouts are fun to watch are they not, my lady?’ said a voice beside her.
Ashlynn started and, looking round, recognised Robbie. For a moment she felt awkward for it was he whom she had given the slip when she ran away, but his expression now was genial. If he bore her a grudge it wasn’t apparent. From the question she realised that she must have been staring at the wrestlers, though in truth had seen nothing of them.
‘Er, yes,’ she said. ‘Who do you think will win?’
‘Fergus,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘There isn’t a man in Glengarron who can match him for strength or skill.’
Looking at the individual in question Ashlynn could see the truth of that remark. Fergus was massively muscled and looked to be roughly the size of a barn door, but for all that he was fast and agile.
She nodded. ‘I can well believe it.’
‘I’m just thankful he fights on our side.’
Ashlynn took the point as Fergus raised a big and brawny opponent over his head and tossed him into the banked snow at the edge of the courtyard, much to the rowdy enjoyment of the onlookers.
‘I think I would not like to meet him on a field of battle.’
‘Or in an alley on a dark night,’ returned Robbie with a grin.
‘Heaven forbid.’
They laughed, each visualising the possibility.
‘But then all Glengarron’s men are able fighters, are they not?’ she continued.
‘Aye, my lady, they are. Lord Iain trains them well.’
‘So I see.’ She eyed him with curiosity. ‘Have you ridden with him long?’
‘Going on four years now.’
‘Four years? A long time.’
‘Not so long. There’s many have been with him longer.’
‘A man to inspire loyalty then.’
‘Indeed he is, my lady. He looks after his men and all who depend on him. There’s not a braver laird in the whole border country, or one more cunning.’
‘I can believe that.’
‘You’d be right to, my lady. A man would have to get up very early to catch Iain of Glengarron.’
They lapsed into companionable silence for a while, but the conversation had given Ashlynn plenty to think about. Almost from the first she had recognised in Iain the qualities of strong leadership. It had been evident in the quiet assurance with which he moved among his men and the way in which he spoke to them. He called each one by name. She never heard him raise his voice but his slightest word was obeyed to the letter. Having seen their skill in battle she knew they were a formidable force. If their opinion of their leader was so high then that respect had been earned. Such men did not give their loyalty or their regard easily.
Robbie eyed her curiously. ‘I’ve heard it said you’re no so bad with a sword yourself, my lady.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Dougal. He said that when you and Black Iain were attacked by robbers you killed six of them single handed.’
She gave a gurgle of incredulous laughter. ‘Dougal overrates my skill. It was only two and I took them by surprise.’
Robbie grinned. ‘I wish I’d been there to see it all the same.’
Across the courtyard Iain was apparently still engaged in easy conversation. However, he was also keenly aware of the scene opposite. It was too far to catch the words but he heard the pair laugh. His jaw tightened. When she was with him Ashlynn rarely laughed yet somehow, in mere minutes, Robbie had overcome her reserve, God rot him! Iain had always acknowledged his wife to be a pretty woman, but since the bruises had faded from her face it had become obvious that she was more than just pretty. When she appeared in the hall his men followed her with their eyes. Hitherto she had never given the least sign that she was aware of the attention but now she seemed to find pleasure in Robbie’s company, apparently hanging on every word. Moreover, the young man was near Ashlynn’s age and well favoured withal. Even her clothing blended with his, damn it. In this throng she might, to the casual eye, have passed for a local lass—a local lass or a servant. His brows drew together.
‘What does the lady here? This is no fit place for a woman to be.’
The voice had come from the fringes of the group around Iain but the words were clearly meant to be overheard. They recalled him at once and he turned, giving the speaker a long and level stare. Recognising that look the rest fell into awkward silence.
‘Well, Archie,’ he replied, ‘some might say it’s not a woman’s place to fight off a gang of armed robbers either, but she did it all the same.’
Beneath the weight of that cool gaze the speaker coloured faintly. ‘Beg pardon, my lord. I meant no disrespect.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Iain. ‘Lady Ashlynn may do as she pleases without reference to you.’
The other lowered his gaze. ‘As you say, my lord.’
The words fell into the surrounding silence and rippled outwards. Iain remained quite still, waiting. However, no further comment was forthcoming from any quarter and a few moments later the men turned away and resumed their earlier conversation as though nothing had happened. A remark from Dougal about one of the nearby swordsmen reclaimed Iain’s attention and he made some reply, forcing his attention back to what his companion was saying. However, in spite of his best efforts his gaze was repeatedly drawn to the pair on the fringes of the wrestling. Ashlynn’s attention was seemingly absorbed by the spectacle and she never looked his way. Then Robbie spoke to her again and she glanced up, smiling. Iain’s gaze smouldered.
* * *
It was perhaps half an hour later when the combatants stopped to recover their breath and take a mug of ale. The gathering broke up into little groups, all talking and laughing together. Ashlynn excused herself and moved away then. It had been entertaining to watch the proceedings but, even with a cloak on, she was beginning to feel the cold. She was halfway to the door of the tower when a hand on her arm arrested her progress. She looked round quickly and felt her heart miss a beat.
‘Iain.’
‘I take it you enjoyed the practices,’ he said. The words were quietly spoken but carried a nuance of something harder to define.
‘Yes, very much, although that was not the reason I came out here.’
‘Oh? And what was the reason?’
‘I was looking for you.’
‘I’m flattered. For a while I thought it might have been someone else.’
His gaze flicked toward Robbie. Ashlynn stared at him in genuine astonishment. Surely he couldn’t have thought…For a second she felt a strong urge to laugh, then looked at his expression and decided she had better not. All the same he could not possibly be jealous. That was ridiculous. Before she could say more he took her arm and led her back indoors. Only when they reached the hall did he stop and draw her round to face him.
‘What was it you wanted to speak to me about, lass?’
She took a deep breath and seized her chance, explaining about her discoveries in the store room. Listening, Iain was taken aback and, in spite of himself, faintly amused. Whatever else he had been expecting it wasn’t that.
‘So I wanted to ask…may I put those things to use?’
She waited, wondering if he would be angry. However, his expression did not suggest it and his tone when he spoke was perfectly level.
‘You need not ask my permission, Ashlynn. This is your home now. Arrange it as you please.’
Footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of some of his men and with that he favoured her with a bow and left. For a moment she watched him go, feeling strangely bereft. Clearly he had no further interest in the matter or in her either. Turning away, she summoned a servant and bade him find Morag.
* * *
Some hours later Ashlynn surveyed her chamber with something approaching real pleasure. The cold stone walls were concealed now by the glorious tapestries, hanging there in many-coloured splendour. By her bed the bearskin rug covered a large section of floor. The bed itself
and the chairs were adorned with colourful cushions. In one corner was the carved screen. The mirror lay on the table with the flagon and cups. Now that the fire had at last taken the chill off the air the overall effect was of cheerful cosiness.
‘It looks fine, my lady,’ said Morag, surveying it critically.
‘Yes, it does,’ she agreed. ‘Much less like a convent cell.’
They both laughed. Then Morag turned to go. Ashlynn saw her check slightly and turned to see Iain in the doorway. He stepped aside to let the servant pass and then came in, looking casually around. She experienced a moment of misgiving, wondering what his reaction might be. However, she needn’t have worried.
‘You’ve done a good job, lass.’
‘Thank you. I think so too.’
He glanced down at her and smiled faintly. All at once the room seemed a lot smaller and a lot warmer. The bed on the other hand seemed to have grown much larger. Her heartbeat quickened and in the name of self-preservation Ashlynn took a step away.
‘The tapestries are finer even than I expected. Where did they come from?’
‘France,’ he replied.
Her heart sank as an unwelcome possibility suddenly dawned. Had these things belonged to Eloise? Suddenly she was mortified. Why hadn’t such a possibility occurred to her before now?
‘They belonged to my mother,’ he continued. ‘After she died they were put away. I’d almost forgotten about them, but it seems fitting now that they should return to their rightful place.’
She let out the breath she had been holding, feeling almost weak-kneed with relief.
‘Did she die long ago?’
‘Aye, when I was four and ten. My father packed away everything connected with her, including me.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Although I was sent to France rather than the storeroom.’
‘That must have been hard.’
‘Not really. It was a relief in many ways. As I told you, my father and I were never close. He had a quick temper and frequently exercised it on me, whether it was merited or not.’
Although there was nothing remotely self-pitying about the tone of voice Ashlynn sensed the hurt beneath. Sensed it and identified with it.
‘Well, families are strange things, are they not?’
‘Aye, lass, they are.’
‘Children are vulnerable enough without having to contend with the enmity of a parent.’
The tone was even but he caught the wistful expression in her eyes.
‘We play as the dice fall,’ he replied, ‘and perhaps it makes us stronger.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘You are strong in spite of your father,’ he said. ‘Strong and brave.’
There was no hint of mockery in the quiet tone and Ashlynn looked up in surprise. Then she shook her head.
‘My father’s word was reckless.’
‘Then he didn’t know you very well, did he?’
Disconcerted by the unforeseen direction of the conversation, Ashlynn changed tack. ‘Did you have no brothers or sisters?’
‘Three other siblings died in infancy but I have a sister living.’
‘A sister? What is her name?’
‘Jeannie.’
‘Shall I meet her soon?’
‘I doubt it,’ he replied.
‘Oh, she lives some distance away then.’
‘Not so far, but in recent years we have become—estranged.’
Ashlynn took a deep breath. ‘May I ask why?’
‘We quarrelled.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She paused. ‘Could you not make it up again?’
‘No.’ He sighed. ‘This disagreement admits of no remedy.’ Then seeing her puzzled expression he went on, ‘It concerns Fitzurse.’
‘Fitzurse!’Ashlynn was genuinely astonished. ‘How so?’
‘Jeannie thinks I should give up my quest to find him.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t. You have no idea.’
The tone was unwontedly harsh. She could hear anger and, beneath it, something that sounded more like pain. The expression in his eyes was glacial. One part of her mind quailed, telling her to back off and leave it alone. Yet the stronger part knew she could not. This must be faced. She needed to know, to understand. Instinctively she reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm.
‘Then will you not tell me?’
For a moment she thought he was going to snub her as he had before, and tell her it was none of her concern. She saw him draw a deep breath as though to steady himself.
‘If anyone has a right to know I suppose it is you,’ he replied.
Her heartbeat quickened and she waited, unwilling to do anything that might break the mood now.
‘I told you that I was married before and that my wife had died,’ he continued. ‘Fitzurse was the man responsible for that.’
Ashlynn stared at him, stunned and appalled together.
‘My father had sent me to France in order to complete my military training. His sister was…is…married to a French nobleman, the Comte de Vaucourt, a man renowned for skill at arms. It was in their house that I met Eloise. She was…most beautiful. I believe I fell in love with her at first sight.’
As she listened Ashlynn kept her face determinedly neutral, hiding the turmoil of thoughts behind.
‘My feelings were reciprocated and, since there were no objections to the match from either of our families, we married. For a while we were very happy. However, I had a jealous rival.’
Ashlynn’s gaze met his for a moment. ‘Fitzurse.’
‘Aye. He had had designs on Eloise himself and took it much amiss that her hand should be granted to one he saw as a foreign interloper. That it was so clearly a love match piqued his pride even further. So, believing himself slighted, he planned his revenge.’
‘What did he do?’
‘The Comte de Vaucourt arranged a boar hunt and a large party rode out that day, including Eloise and myself. Somehow, in the course of the chase, she became separated from the rest. Fitzurse’s men were waiting and, seeing their chance, carried her off to his castle some few miles distant.’
Ashlynn paled, remembering her own encounter with Fitzurse and knowing too well what the man was capable of. Iain took a deep breath.
‘He raped her repeatedly and then, when he had done, gave her to his men. When they had had their sport they released her. We eventually found her in the fields not far from Vaucourt. Somehow she must have made her way back there. She was in such a state that only the greatest effort of will could have kept her going. Above all else she wanted to see Fitzurse punished, to be avenged. Having gained that holy assurance she seized the dagger from my belt and ended her life.’
‘Dear God.’
‘The shame was not hers but she could not live with it.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I sought redress through the law. Like a fool I thought that having right on my side must result in justice. However, when the matter was brought before Duke Richard, Fitzurse swore that Eloise had gone with him of her own volition, that it had been only the two of them involved. He had powerful friends who bore false witness to that effect. And since those same men had provided the gold to fund his wars, the Duke inclined to their part. I would have killed Fitzurse anyway and to hell with the consequences but, knowing that, my uncle had me forcibly returned to Scotland for my own safety.’
‘How did he do that?’
‘He drugged the wine one evening. I woke up on board a merchant ship bound for the Firth of Forth. I cursed my uncle’s name at first but, with the wisdom of hindsight, I saw that he was right. I’d live to fight another day. In the years that followed he sent me regular intelligence from France. In that way I learned Fitzurse had taken service with Duke William and was bound for England. Then I knew my turn was coming.’ He paused. ‘My one fear was that my enemy might have perished at Hastings along with all those others. Happily he did not.’
‘And you have sought him ev
er since.’
‘Aye, and one day we will meet.’
There could be no mistaking the cold purpose in his tone and Ashlynn shivered.
‘That day may be far distant,’ she replied.
‘One year or ten, it makes no difference. I shall keep my vow.’
As the ramifications became clear, Ashlynn knew a moment of deep sadness. Would the evils of the past never be exorcised? If they were ever to build a life together its foundations could not be those of hatred and revenge. And if they did build a future could he ever feel for her what he felt for Eloise?
Mistaking the cause of her silence he eyed her ruefully. ‘It’s not a pretty story. Perhaps I should not have told you.’
‘No, it isn’t pretty,’ she replied, ‘but I’m glad you did all the same. It makes so many things clear.’
‘Does it?’
‘Yes, among them why your sister should have asked you to give up your quest.’
He frowned. ‘Jeannie doesn’t know what she asks.’
‘I think she does. She wants you to move on.’
‘That is not possible.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Not until I have rid this earth of Fitzurse.’
‘I know as well as anyone why you hate this man, but we cannot alter what is past, Iain.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Let it go. Look to the future instead.’
Her touch, though gentle, was warm. He could feel it beneath his sleeve. The effect was both soothing and sensual. He forced himself to ignore it along with the haunting expression in her eyes. ‘There can be no future until this is settled. My vow was made in blood and it will be met in blood. I will not be forsworn.’
‘Will you sacrifice everything to that end?’
‘If needs be.’
‘Does that include me?’
‘This has nothing to do with you, Ashlynn.’
‘How can you say so? How can you even think it?’ she replied. ‘I too have cause to hate Fitzurse, but if I let hatred govern my life he will have won. Don’t you see?’
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