Read Joanna Fulford Online

Authors: His Lady of Castlemora

Joanna Fulford (14 page)

Riding so close to him she was at leisure to observe without being seen. Her eyes followed the strong line of his back to the broad shoulders and the tawny hair that curled over the collar of his tunic, and thence to the hollow of his neck, the familiar planes of cheek and jaw, the curve of his mouth. If he turned round their lips would be close enough to kiss. She blinked back tears as desire competed with suspicion.

* * *

Once clear of the trees Ban picked up the pace to a steady canter that covered the ground without tiring the horses too much. The time might yet come when they would need every bit of speed the animals could summon. As they rode they kept sharp watch, looking for any evidence of their pursuers, but the landscape was empty and they advanced unchallenged. Guessing the road would be the first place that Murdo’s men would watch, Ban chose a cross-country route using sheep tracks and narrow ways, avoiding the crests of the hills where they would be on view for miles around and using the natural features of the landscape to hide their progress.

* * *

At noon they stopped to water the horses and to rest awhile. The men took it in turns to keep watch.

Seeing the women refreshing themselves at the stream Ban took his companions aside for a quiet word.

‘We make good progress,’ he said, ‘but we’re not home yet and Murdo is not the type to give up his prey easily.’

‘Would that we might get word tae Glengarron,’ said Ewan. ‘Reinforcements would be welcome just now.’

‘Aye, they would,’ agreed Davy. ‘I’m ne’er one to run from a fight, but odds of ten to one are no so good.’

Ban glanced towards the two women feeling all the weight of his responsibility. Isabelle’s vulnerability seemed all the more pointed. Somehow he must get her to safety. There would be time enough to think after that. Since their escape from Castlemora her manner to him had been different somehow; it was courteous but at the same time a little more aloof as though something preyed on her mind. Given what had happened in the last few days it wasn’t surprising. Her father’s death had been bad enough but with Hugh’s murder on top of that... Ban vowed silently that he would keep his promise. Murdo would answer for his crime. In the interim Isabelle needed time to grieve. When they reached Glengarron he could give her that at least.

* * *

Only once in the course of that day did they see evidence of the enemy, a small patrol of a dozen men, but they were fully half a mile away and moving south, parallel to the fugitives’ present course. Ban reined in.

‘Will they see us?’ asked Isabelle.

‘No, they’re not even looking in our direction.’ He frowned as an unpleasant thought occurred to him. After a moment he found Jock alongside. The craggy face was grim.

‘Are ye thinking what I’m thinking?’ he asked.

‘Probably,’ replied Ban.

Ewan looked from one to the other. ‘What is it, my lord?’

For answer Ban nodded in the direction of the distant riders now drawing away, evidently riding fast. ‘Look yonder.’

Ewan frowned. ‘What are they doing?’

‘Murdo has moved his men ahead of us. It’s why we haven’t seen hide or hair of them since last night. He knows he can move much faster than we and he’s planning to throw a cordon of patrols across our way.’

Ewan frowned. ‘Cut us off from Glengarron, ye mean?’

‘Precisely.’

A tense silence followed.

Jock threw Ban a wry glance. ‘What now?’

‘We have to get word to Glengarron. It’s our only chance. One of us must go on ahead and find a way through Murdo’s patrols.’

‘Aye, you’re right. Will I get going then?’

‘No, not you: Ewan must go. He was born hereabouts and knows this region better than anyone.’

The younger man nodded. ‘I ken every rock, bush and sheep track for twenty miles.’

To Isabelle’s surprise he didn’t look remotely concerned by the thought of danger or possible capture. As if in answer to the thought Ban turned in the saddle and met her eye.

‘If anyone can get through he will.’

‘I’ll get through, my lady,’ Ewan replied. ‘I swear it.’

‘Ye’d better,’ said Jock. Then, jerking his head in the general direction of home, he added, ‘Away with ye then, lad, and keep your eyes open.’

‘I’ll mind the advice.’

With that Ewan turned his horse aside and rode away in the wake of the enemy patrol. The others watched until he was lost to view among the rocks and trees. Isabelle sent a silent prayer along with him. Nell eyed her shrewdly.

‘He’ll get through all right,’ she said.

‘But will it be in time?’ replied Isabelle.

‘Have no fear, my lady,’ said Jock. ‘He will get through and Lord Iain will send aid.’

Beside him, Davy nodded. ‘Aye, that’s right, and then yon mercenary scum will see if Glengarron’s reputation has been exaggerated or no.’

Ban’s answering smile belied his inner concern. The foe was ruthless and dangerous. If this had involved just himself and his men, that would have been one thing. The presence of the women was quite another for their safety must be his top priority. Even so, the thought of the coming conflict filled him with savage anticipation. It would be good to come face to face with Murdo instead of all this running and hiding. When he did he would take pleasure in killing him. And then...what?

For the first time he did let his thoughts run on a little. Even with the immediate threat removed, Isabelle would still be vulnerable until their betrothal was made public. She had just become an heiress and thus a considerable prize. It might be that the king himself would take a hand in the matter once he heard of it, and he would hear. Castlemora was a rich estate. Loyalty could be bought thus and alliances too. Since Malcolm had paid homage to King William might not closer ties be sought, ties of marriage between Norman and Scot? It was an unwelcome possibility. On the other hand it could be removed by the declaration of his betrothal. In many ways that was a highly desirable solution but it still left one critical problem outstanding. Ban’s jaw tensed. The future was growing more complicated by the hour.

* * *

Although he suspected they would not stumble across any of the enemy patrols as yet, he never relaxed his vigilance all through the remainder of that day, nor at night when they made camp. They dared not light a fire for fear of attracting unwelcome attention, and that evening they ate the last of the food. With more supplies they would have had the option of staying put and waiting for help; as it was they had no choice now but to go on. He calculated they were perhaps ten miles from home. It should have been an easy ride in the morning. Now he knew it would be anything but. With every step they would be riding ever closer to danger. All Murdo had to do was let them come.

Chapter Ten

I
sabelle rolled herself in her cloak and lay down beside Nell, trying to sleep. However, the hard ground and the evening chill held sleep at bay and presently she gave it up. Taking care not to disturb the others she moved apart and sat down in the lee of a boulder, resting her back against the stone. Above her the stars burned in the deepening vault of the sky, and the moon, almost at the full, was mounting the heavens. All the country round was bathed in its soft silvery light.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ said a quiet voice beside her.

With a start she looked up to see Ban. She had not heard him approach or even been aware of his presence until that moment. It astonished her that such a large man could move so silently, or with such feline grace. The thought also occurred that he must have been watching her, unseen.

‘Aye, it is,’ she replied.

Not knowing what to say to him she fell silent again, fixing her gaze on the stars, glad of the darkness that concealed her expression. If he was aware of any awkwardness he gave no sign, and casually sat down nearby. Aware of him to the last fibre of her being, she waited.

‘When we reach Glengarron,’ he said, ‘I hope to offer you better entertainment than this rough living.’

She didn’t tell him that rough living wasn’t her main concern. She could have borne any amount of that if he was near; if he had truly cared for her.

‘I think you will be glad to see the place again,’ she said.

‘Indeed.’

‘Your sister will be pleased to see you safe.’

‘Ashlynn, aye. I’m sure she will also be happy to meet you.’

Isabelle hoped it might be so but her experiences at Dunkeld made her wonder. Blood was thicker than water and if it ever came to taking sides Lady Ashlynn would not support a stranger over a beloved brother.

‘I look forward to it,’ she lied. Would he tell his sister what had passed during his stay at Castlemora? She supposed them to be close so it seemed possible. Her spirits sank further.

‘She is expecting another child very soon,’ he went on.

‘Another? My goodness.’ A lump formed in her throat. ‘You will be an uncle thrice over.’

‘Aye, I will. It’s beginning to make me feel old.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘Why so?’

‘You seem tireless in all things.’

He grinned. ‘I’d defy anyone to remain tireless after being in the company of my nephews for more than half an hour. The very thought of a third is exhausting.’

‘It might be a niece this time.’

He considered it. ‘A little girl? That might be nice.’

Alive to every inflexion of his voice she heard the wistfulness behind the words. ‘You are fond of children, I think.’

‘Children are relatively uncomplicated,’ he replied. ‘And they give us hope for the future.’

Although the tone was casual she knew that the sentiment was not. Getting heirs was a matter of prime importance, and especially to this man. It was also dangerous ground and she was reluctant to linger there when he had been speaking more freely. There were so many things she wanted to know.

‘How did your sister meet Lord Iain?’

‘It was during the Harrying. He pulled her out of a freezing river.’

‘How romantic.’

‘She didn’t think so at first.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Nor did she wish to come north with him.’

‘He must have been very persuasive.’

‘He didn’t give her a choice although, as it turned out, he had good reasons for that.’

‘Where were you at the time?’

‘Unconscious and then out of my head with fever. When Heslingfield was sacked I was wounded in the fighting and left for dead. Iain’s men found me among the slain.’

Isabelle tried to imagine her feelings if Castlemora had been overrun and burned by Norman thugs and her own family slaughtered. A brother’s murder gave an insight into the horror but she guessed even that fell far short of what Ban had experienced. How did a person recover from such events?

‘They patched me up as best they could,’ he continued, ‘put me in a wagon and took me with them. When I eventually came round I was at Dark Mount. I had no idea that Ashlynn had been saved until Iain brought her to see me one day.’

‘That must have been a very special moment.’

‘It was. We had always been close and when I discovered that she was alive and well...let’s just say that the world seemed a little less bleak.’

She recognised the understatement and sensed the emotion he did not articulate. She could only guess at his state of mind at that time. Yet, in spite of everything he hadn’t given up; he had survived and carved out a new life for himself.

‘And you’ve been at Dark Mount ever since.’

‘That’s right.’ He didn’t add that there was nowhere else to go. ‘Iain offered me a place among his men and I was glad to accept it. I’ve never regretted the decision.’

‘He is a man who commands respect. My father always said as much and he did not give his praise readily.’

‘Your father was right.’

‘Well, I look forward to meeting Lady Ashlynn and your nephews.’

‘You will be able to do so very soon.’

The thought occurred to her that if Ewan did not get through then the chance of any of them seeing Glengarron was remote. Perhaps Lady Ashlynn would wait in vain for her brother to return. Isabelle swallowed hard. The thought of his death was chilling, like the thought of a world without him. Yet he had obviously weighed the risk and found it worthwhile. Suspicion resurfaced and with it an urge to confront the matter head on. Whatever the truth it was better than doubt.

‘Why did you come back for me?’ she asked.

‘No man takes what is mine and gets away with it. And, as I told you, I would not leave you with Murdo.’

She licked dry lips. ‘Is that the only reason? After all, Castlemora is a considerable prize.’

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Aye, it is and, God willing, we shall return and reclaim it very soon.’

‘You mean
you
will claim it. You will be laird.’

‘I shall, and you its lady, if events fall out as we hope.’

If.
She shivered inwardly. So much hung on that one little word. ‘And if they do not?’

‘Come what may,’ he replied, ‘I shall claim Castlemora.’

‘What?’

‘It is a rich and valuable estate and the king would rather see it in the hands of an ally than an enemy.’

‘And so at a stroke you regain all that you once lost.’

‘That’s right.’

For a moment she was speechless. No matter what happened he would emerge a winner whereas her position remained precarious. She dreaded to ask the next question but knew she had to now.

‘Will you acknowledge our betrothal
if
...when we reach Glengarron?’

‘When circumstances make that possible.’ He paused, surveying her steadily. ‘Nothing has changed. The arrangement still stands.’

‘I see.’ She lowered her gaze. He had been brutally frank but now at least every last trace of doubt was gone. Formerly she had been glad of his honesty and in a way still was, but this time it hurt too. His affections were not engaged; to him she was a means to an end.
I do not love you any more than you love me.
Tears pricked behind her eyelids and she blinked them away, sickened by her own folly. Her ability to please this man was limited to sharing his bed, or wherever else he chose to take her. It occurred to her then that Glengarron was both haven and fortress. She might have escaped from Murdo but, in doing so, she had put herself into hands that were more powerful and, in their way, more dangerous. This man had the power to hurt her in ways that Murdo never could.

‘First though,’ said Ban, ‘we have to reach Glengarron.’

‘One more thing I would ask, my lord.’

‘Which is?’

Isabelle met his gaze. ‘If we are not rescued in time, I beg that you will not let Murdo take me alive.’

For a moment he was silent as he tried to read her expression. ‘The situation will not arise.’

‘It might, and I would rather be dead than submit to him.’

‘I promise you will never again be in his power.’

‘Thank you.’

He squeezed her arm lightly. ‘Don’t be afraid. All will yet be well.’

Feeling the warmth of that touch Isabelle’s heart constricted. How was it possible for a man to be such a mass of contradictions? How did one reconcile gentleness and courtesy with ruthlessness and ambition? How could a man who was so ardent in bed have a heart sheathed in ice?

‘I pray you are right,’ she replied.

His hand fell to his side. ‘You should try to get some sleep, my lady. We have another long day ahead.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. Seeing her about to rise, Ban stood up first and offered his hand. There was a fleeting hesitation before she took it and as he drew her to her feet he felt her tremble. For a moment they remained thus facing each other. Then, with a tremulous smile, she withdrew her fingers from his.

‘Goodnight, my lord.’

* * *

He watched her walk away, conscious of conflicting emotions. It hadn’t been an easy conversation but he hadn’t wanted to lie to her either. Only a fool would let slip an opportunity like the one he now had. Castlemora was going to be his. When that happened he wanted Isabelle at his side and he wanted to keep her there. He couldn’t imagine any other woman in that role. It wasn’t just her beauty that drew him now; she possessed intelligence, honesty and courage as well. Together they were a heady combination. Her company was agreeable too and, unlike that of most other women, it didn’t pall. When he left her she lingered in his thoughts; with her he found himself speaking of things he didn’t discuss with anyone else. She could be disturbingly perceptive at times, but she also had a way of seeing straight to the heart of a matter. It would be pointless to lie to her, she would know at once. Besides, he had no wish to because if he did she would think less of him. He sighed, wondering then what she did think. Probably her opinion of him was not high. Nor could he blame her for it. If they lived to reach Glengarron he would try and make it up to her.

For all his confident words earlier he couldn’t deny to himself how serious their situation was. Everything depended on Ewan now. If he got through they had a chance. If not... Ban tried not to think of the alternative.

* * *

The rest of the night passed uneventfully and at dawn they rose and saddled the horses. There was no more food and already Ban could feel hunger pangs clawing his stomach. He knew the others must feel the same. It was hard enough on a man never mind a woman, yet he heard no word of complaint. Instead Isabelle greeted him with a brave smile. It touched him more than any tears could have done and his esteem increased. In spite of her youth and her vulnerability she could face a difficult situation with courage and he admired that.

Gathering the reins he mounted the big chestnut and waited while Davy lifted Isabelle up behind him. He felt her settle herself on the crupper and then the light, familiar clasp of her hands on his waist. He smiled wryly. The best he could say of present circumstances was that they offered the perfect excuse to keep her close.

When Nell was safely perched behind Jock, the little group set out. The pace was slower now and they rode with caution, their eyes watching for any sign of movement in the landscape. For some time it was open and afforded little cover but Ban knew that presently it gave way to stunted trees and rocky outcrops, the very places for an ambush. He had no intention of falling into one if he could help it.

‘The bastards are there somewhere,’ muttered Jock. ‘I can feel it like an itch I canna reach.’

‘Aye.’ Ban scanned the terrain ahead. ‘Even so we’ve no option now but to go on.’

‘Ewan should have reached Glengarron by now.’

‘Aye, he should.’

‘That being so, help is on its way.’

Neither of them mentioned any of the possible ifs attaching to that statement. In spite of the sunlight Isabelle shivered inwardly. Safety was so tantalisingly near, a matter of a few miles, but it might as well have been a hundred. Her eyes scanned the surrounding land for any sign of movement. Like Jock, she could sense that the enemy was close. Perhaps Murdo was watching them even now. Her stomach knotted. She could almost see his gloating smile. He meant to play with them like a cat at a mouse hole.

In the event it was the flash of sunlight on steel that revealed the presence of the enemy behind the boulders on the hillside half a mile away. Ban reined in his horse. He had no sooner pointed out the location to his companions than there was an answering flash from a hillside opposite. He cursed softly.

‘They’re strung out in groups and who knows how far?’ said Jock. ‘We canna ride round them, and if we try tae go through they’ll close in and encircle us.’

‘Even if we got past this lot there’d likely be another group beyond,’ replied Ban.

‘They’ve seen us at any rate. What do ye want to do?’

‘Let them come to us.’ Ban glanced around. ‘We’ll take a position up there on yonder hillside. See where the land levels off a little under that outcrop? The rock face will protect our rear, those boulders our flanks, so they can only come at us from the front and a few at a time.’

‘You mean to try to hold them until reinforcements arrive?’

‘There’s no other choice.’

He touched the chestnut with his heel and, with the others following, headed for the place in question. Isabelle half-expected armed men to rise up out of the ground and bar their progress, but they reached their goal unhindered. Ban dismounted and spoke to his men.

‘Loose the horses. They’ll only be in the way here.’ As they moved to obey he turned back to Isabelle and lifted her down. ‘Do you and Nell take shelter among the rocks, my lady.’

More than anything now she wanted to remain within the sheltering circle of his arm but could only nod in mute obedience. Could he not hear her heart beating from where he stood? For a moment more he looked into her face and his own expression grew serious. Letting his arm fall from her waist he drew the dagger from his belt and, reversing the blade, handed it to her.

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