Joanna Fulford (19 page)

Isabelle burned, every fibre of her body resonating from the feel of him, revelling in this fierce possession. The heat in her pelvis expanded in a ripple of pleasure, every muscle taut with it. She moaned softly. The thrusts intensified, harder, utterly dominant now, pushing her relentlessly to the edge. Isabelle screamed, half-swooning, her body bucking beneath him, carried on a cresting wave of pleasure. He came quickly then, unable to help himself, crying out, his body shuddering with glorious sensation. Ruthless, he held her there, in thrall to his will. Isabelle closed her eyes in total surrender, loving every second of that delicious tyranny.

Eventually he drew back a little, breathing hard, caught between astonishment and delight.

‘Dear heaven, that was beyond words.’

She thought that words couldn’t begin to explain or describe what she felt then. Once she would never have dreamed such delight existed. How could one be so completely subject to a man’s will and yet enjoy every moment of it? How was it possible to want a man so much? She smiled and gave him a sideways look. It was unwittingly sultry and vaguely mischievous. Ban saw it and grinned.

‘Have a care, vixen. Such an expression can only elicit one kind of response.’

‘Oh? And what is that, my lord?’

‘I mean to show you presently.’

And he did, then and later.

* * *

When Isabelle eventually woke next day the sun was already high. She stretched luxuriously and then turned her head to find Ban propped on one elbow watching her. As her eyes met his he smiled.

‘Good morrow, Wife.’

‘Good morrow, Husband.’ Idly she traced a finger along his arm, her gaze taking in the silvery lines of old scars on his skin. The finger traced the course of the livid gash along his ribs and then continued upwards to his shoulder, to the site of the arrow wound. Close to it was another familiar scar, a long deep cut that ran from shoulder to breast, evidently the result of a savage downward slash from a sword. It had healed cleanly but she had seen enough injuries to know it must have been life-threatening. She had never asked him about it but now curiosity stirred.

‘How did you get this?’

‘It is the legacy of a Norman blade.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘From the time you told me about? At Heslingfield?’

‘Aye. It would have done for me too, but for Iain and his men.’

‘Then I owe him and them a debt of gratitude.’

‘I also.’

Isabelle pressed closer and kissed the scar. Ban’s arms tightened about her and she grinned, regarding him speculatively.

‘The sun is high, Husband.’

The innocent tone brought forth an answering grin. ‘So it is, Wife.’

‘Is it not time we were up?’

‘I already am.’

Glancing down she saw irrefutable proof of this and raised an eyebrow. ‘Was last night not enough to sate your lust, my lord?’

‘Not nearly enough, as you are going to discover.’

Before she had time to say more he rolled, pinning her beneath him. Then his lips were on hers in a long and deep embrace. She could feel his arousal against her thigh and the answering heat in her pelvis. Recollections of the previous night only intensified it and she returned his kiss with equal ardour.

Ban looked down into her face, his eyes dark with passion. ‘You play with fire, my sweet.’

‘Is that dangerous?’

‘Most assuredly.’

‘How so?’

He proceeded to show her and in considerable detail. The sun was much higher before they eventually left the sanctuary of the bedchamber.

* * *

Afterwards they walked together in the glen, following a steep track that led up the hillside. From the top the panorama of hills was spectacular and Isabelle surveyed it with awe.

‘It’s magnificent.’

‘Isn’t it?’

They sat down on a convenient rock to get their breath back. Although she continued to gaze at the view every fibre of her body was aware of the man beside her.

‘I found it by chance,’ he went on, ‘not long after I came to Glengarron. I’ve come here often since, whenever I’ve needed a little time apart.’

She nodded. ‘I can understand that.’

‘I needed quite a lot at first, to try to come to terms with what had happened at Heslingfield. Iain knew that and he left me alone.’

‘He reads men well. It’s what makes him a good leader.’

He regarded her in surprise. ‘That’s a very astute observation.’

She smiled. ‘Not mine, my father’s.’

‘Ah, but then he had many of the same qualities as Iain.’

‘He didn’t read Alistair Neil very well,’ she replied. ‘If he had he’d never have permitted the match to go ahead.’

‘He told me that your husband was often from home. It seems to me that he must take his share of the blame if you did not conceive a child.’

‘Even when he was there marital relations were...difficult.’

‘Difficult? How?’ As soon as he’d said it he winced inwardly. ‘I beg your pardon. That was a very impertinent question.’

‘It cannot be avoided any longer.’

‘You don’t have to tell me.’

‘I think I do.’ She reddened a little but, having committed herself thus far, knew she had to go on. ‘Alistair could not always perform his marital duties. When he did...well, he needed...he needed the stimulation of violence.’

Ban frowned. ‘Violence? What sort of violence?’

She drew another deep breath. ‘He liked to beat me. When I cried out it excited him, you see.’

He did see. Suddenly a whole lot of things had just become clear and he was sickened. That any man should hurt a woman was beyond all bounds of acceptable behaviour. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Even as he said it he realised how trite the words must sound to her.

‘In a year of marriage I did not once conceive,’ she went on. ‘It was the reason the Neils wanted me gone.’

‘Why should they put all the blame on you?’

‘In such cases the woman is always to blame.’

Ban had the uneasy feeling she might be right. Had he not listened to the voice of doubt without even speaking to her? There were always two sides at least to every story. Moreover, this account had major implications.

‘That’s in the past now, my sweet.’

‘Is it?’ Her anguished gaze met his. ‘What if it wasn’t just him? What if it
was
me?’

‘From what you’ve said I feel pretty sure that it wasn’t.’

‘You may still have married a barren woman.’

‘Isabelle, I suspect these fears are groundless.’

‘You don’t know how much I pray for that. I want to bear your children, Ban, not have you put me aside one day.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I have no wish to put you aside.’

‘You might have no choice. You need direct male heirs.’

‘We’ll have them, I’m certain of it.’

‘That’s what Murdo said.’

Ban’s eyes glinted. ‘Oh, did he?’

‘Ironically, he was the only person at the time who took my part.’

‘He must have had good reason.’

‘Murdo was ever well informed. It seems that some of his information came from whores who had lain with Alistair Neil. They said he couldn’t—’ She broke off, feeling her face redden.

Ban regarded her keenly and then he laughed out loud. Isabelle grew hotter.

‘It’s no laughing matter.’

‘Forgive me, but surely you know what this this means.’ When she continued to stare at him he grinned broadly. ‘Your former husband was impotent, my sweet.’

Isabelle’s heart gave a painful lurch. ‘Then...it wasn’t me?’

‘If Murdo is right it most certainly wasn’t you.’

‘Oh, Ban.’

‘It would also explain why he had no qualms at all about wishing to take you to wife.’

Just then she didn’t know quite whether to laugh or cry. ‘I hate Murdo more than any other living man, but I hope with all my heart that he was right about this.’

The very thought that it might be so lightened her spirits dramatically.

* * *

It seemed also to have affected Ban. At table that evening he was attentive and courteous as usual but he seemed more relaxed than he had erewhile. He laughed more, and took a larger part in the discussion. It gladdened her to see it. If this development could please him so much, how much more would he be pleased when she was with child? She allowed herself to use
when
now, rather than
if
. Smiling to herself she took a sip of wine and relaxed a little, allowing herself to be drawn by the convivial atmosphere.

Ban and Lord Iain began to relate the tale of a distant exploit, of a cattle raid that had become a mud-splattered stampede in an unexpected thunderstorm. With impeccable timing one would interject with more details, piling one absurdity on another until their listeners were crying with laughter. Isabelle laughed too. The story lent another dimension to these men who, it seemed, were not infallible despite clever planning and could make themselves the butt of a joke. It only made them more attractive in her eyes. It occurred to her then that laughter bound men as effectively as shared adventures and success in battle, and guessed that their shared history was colourful, chequered and, at times, hilarious.

She gave the conversation her full attention, absorbing every detail about Ban’s background so that she could flesh out what she already knew. Understanding of the past would provide added insight into his mental processes now. The survival instinct was strong in him and it had coloured his thinking for years, teaching him to separate emotion from events. And yet he was not incapable of feeling, of loving. With Ashlynn and with his young nephews the barriers came down. Might they one day do the same for his wife?

Chapter Fifteen

N
ow that his shoulder was growing stronger Ban had begun to exercise gently and, eventually, to ride again. His first trip was to visit Jock’s wife. As he had anticipated it wasn’t an easy meeting for either of them but it was necessary and, ultimately, he was glad he’d done it.

‘Jock would have been pleased,’ said Isabelle when they met later.

‘It was the least I could do,’ he replied. ‘Maggie and the children will be taken care of in the material sense, but they’re utterly bereft and nothing can change that.’

‘You miss him too, don’t you?’

‘He was a brave man and a good friend.’

‘I regret his loss more than I can say.’

‘You have no need to feel guilt, Isabelle. He would not want you to.’

‘All the same I do feel it, and keenly too.’

‘Then it’s time to take your mind off it for a while.’ He paused. ‘Would you care to ride out with me tomorrow?’

‘I’d like that.’

‘The glen is pretty at this season. You might like to see more of it.’

‘Yes, I would. Very much.’

* * *

They kept the horses to a steady pace. Apart from her concern over Ban’s current level of fitness, Isabelle wanted to be able to take in the details around her. Glengarron was certainly beautiful at this season with the purple heather on the hills and the clouds high in a late summer sky, dappling the hills with light and shadow.

‘I can understand why you have grown fond of this place,’ she observed.

Ban nodded. Not so long ago he had thought he wouldn’t live to see it again, never mind see it with the company he would most have sought.

‘It has become a second home; one I little thought to have.’

‘In that respect at least you were fortunate.’

‘More than I can say.’

She smiled wryly. ‘Life never turns out as we expect, does it?’

‘Not very often,’ he agreed. ‘But then we live in uncertain times.’

‘I used to think that marriage would place me out of harm’s way; that somehow a home and husband would make me invincible.’

‘No one is invincible.’

‘True. It’s just that we don’t expect harm to come from those closest to us. It seems like the worst kind of betrayal.’

‘It is.’

‘You speak from experience.’

‘Very much so.’

‘Beatrice?’ She stopped herself there, mentally cursing her tactlessness. ‘Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Forget it.’

‘I speak without thinking too often. I didn’t mean to resurrect a demon.’

‘No demon, at least not now. I have long seen her for what she was.’

‘It’s good that you have.’

‘She was part of a dream I once wove. It had no basis in anything other than wishful thinking and eventually I had a rude awakening.’

She hesitated, but his manner now seemed more relaxed than before. It encouraged her to test the water a little further. ‘Did she love someone else?’

‘I believe she loved only herself. I merely entertained her for a while.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

‘She completely neglected to mention that, even while she was seeing me, she was betrothed to an earl.’

‘What!’

‘I could scarce believe it either.’ He shrugged. ‘She only broke with me because the wedding was imminent.’

‘Good heavens. That must have been unspeakably hurtful.’

‘It was, but not nearly as hurtful as what followed.’

Isabelle regarded him keenly but remained silent, content to let him take his time. He drew a deep breath.

‘I should have kept my temper but I didn’t and we quarrelled. Beatrice screamed and the servants came running. I was taken before her father. She accused me of having pursued her against her wishes and of having forced my attentions on her.’

‘How could she do such a thing?’

‘I think there wasn’t much she wouldn’t have done just then to make herself out to be the injured party.’

‘Her father believed her?’

‘He believed her all right. After all, she was betrothed to an earl, one of the richest and most powerful men in the land. Why should she deign to look at a landless Saxon thane?’

Isabelle stared at him, appalled. ‘What did he do?’

‘He had four of his henchmen give me a beating for presumption. They were very thorough.’

‘You might have been killed.’

‘They stopped short of that; it would have invited serious trouble from Glengarron. Instead I was thrown on my horse and ejected from the premises.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Hardly a tale of high romance, is it?’

‘I could not think of anything less so, or of anything more unjust.’

‘I have never spoken of it until now, but I should not like you to think that Beatrice was an object of affection.’

Her throat tightened. ‘I am glad you told me. I shall honour the confidence.’

‘I know.’

His look and tone were entirely earnest and that created a variety of emotions in her. She knew it could not have been easy to speak of such things, especially after so long a silence. That he should have trusted her with the truth made her feel honoured and deeply moved. It also induced an uncomfortable reappraisal of her own response to his status as a dispossessed Sassenach thane. She was ashamed to think of it now. A man’s character did not derive from how rich he was or how much he owned. If wealth and land were indicators of goodness and worth Alistair Neil should have been among the foremost in all of Scotland. It was a lesson learned late but learned thoroughly.

The path they had been following climbed steadily until it levelled out again at the top of the hill. The position afforded an uninterrupted view down the glen and for a little while they paused to admire it. Isabelle thought then that they might turn back but somewhat to her surprise Ban turned his horse’s head away from Glengarron.

‘There’s a pretty little lochan among those trees yonder. It’s not above a mile distant. I thought you might like to see it.’

‘Of course.’

They rode on quietly for some way across a stretch of open heath. As they continued the track passed close to an ancient ring of standing stones, as tall as a man and all lichened and weathered. Isabelle surveyed them curiously.

‘What do think they were for?’

‘Worship of the gods perhaps, or some other form of ceremonial.’

‘The place certainly has an atmosphere about it.’

‘I once saw Iain settle a score here with an enemy.’

Her eyes widened a little. ‘He killed a man here?’

‘Aye, he did. A Norman knight called Fitzurse; an evil swine and no mistake. He tried to stab Iain in the back.’

‘Then he was justly paid out for it.’

‘That he was,’ said Ban. ‘My only regret is that the brute didn’t die at my hand.’

‘Why so?’

‘It was he and his mercenaries who burned Heslingfield and slew my kin.’

‘Then surely you had the right to face him in combat?’

Ban shook his head. ‘Iain’s claim was older than mine. He’d been seeking Fitzurse for years before I came on the scene, and with good cause. I yielded to his right on condition that he avenged us both for past wrongs, which he duly did.’

‘This Fitzurse sounds like a truly evil man.’

‘He was. The world is well rid of him.’

Isabelle shivered inwardly. The stones had doubtless witnessed much bloodshed and no doubt would witness much more. In this land only the strong survived. Men like Iain and Ban.

‘Does the lochan have a bloody history too?’ she asked.

He laughed. ‘Not as far as I’m aware.’

In fact the lake was, as he had as said, a pretty place. It was situated in a natural bowl of the land, its rocky shore screened by birch and rowan trees, its clear waters sunlit and still. Isabelle reined in at the edge of the trees and looked around.

‘It’s a pleasant spot,’ she observed.

‘I hoped you’d think so. I’ve always liked it. I come here from time to time.’

‘I can see why.’

‘Would you like to stop for a while?’

‘Why not?’

They dismounted and tethered the horses to a bush, then strolled to the water’s edge. Isabelle smiled, enjoying the warm sunshine and peaceful green beauty of the place, more than ever aware of the man beside her. It had been in such a place that she’d first met him, a memory that caused a different kind of heat deep inside.

By tacit consent they walked a little way and then he spread his cloak in a sheltered turfy hollow among the rocks and they sat together in companionable silence, leaning against the warm stone. Isabelle eyed the lochan speculatively.

‘Do you suppose the water is warm?’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Why? Were you planning to swim?’

She reddened a little. ‘I’m not sure that would be wise.’

‘It would be most unwise. The lochan is freezing.’

‘You speak from experience.’

‘That’s right.’ He paused. ‘Of course, you don’t have to take my word for it. In fact I’d be very happy for you to put it to the test. I’ll sit here and watch.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’

He sighed heavily and they both laughed. Then her gaze met his and laughter faded and became something more intense. He leaned closer, his face only inches from hers. She met it in a light and gentle kiss. Ban shifted a little, sliding his arms around her for a more lingering embrace. It set every nerve alight. His hold tightened and the kiss became deeper, his tongue teasing and flirting with hers. Isabelle slid her fingers through his hair. It was thick and tawny as a lion’s mane and, unlike most men, he kept it clean. It slipped easily through her fingers, the feel of it subtly sensual. Gently she caressed the back of his neck. The kiss became passionate.

Shifting just a little she slipped a hand between them and stroked. There followed a sharp intake of breath and in moments she felt swelling hardness beneath her fingers. The suddenness of it astonished and encouraged at the same time. She heard him groan.

‘You’re playing with fire again, my sweet.’

She said nothing, only continued to stroke him. Ban drew another sharp breath, his expression taut and ecstatic. She could see resolve crumbling and bit back a smile.

‘Have you no mercy, woman?’

She reached for the fastenings of his hose and tugged gently. Freed from the confining cloth his erection stood proud. Even though she had witnessed it before it still had the power to astonish and, now, to excite. Stronger was the desire to have him inside her. She realised then that this wasn’t just about conceiving a child any more: it was about a different kind of need; needing him, wanting him, wanting this.

Shifting position she lifted the hem of her gown and straddled him, lowering herself slowly, letting him slide into her. It felt quite astoundingly good. His hands slid behind her buttocks pulling her closer. She began to rock slowly. She heard another sharp intake of breath and continued. He thrust deeper. Isabelle bit her lip to stop herself crying out. Ban frowned.

‘Am I hurting you, sweetheart? Do you want me to stop?’

‘No, you’re not hurting me, and don’t you dare stop.’

He laughed softly. She felt him thrust again, and then repeat the action, more strongly each time. Her body moved with him, feeling the rhythm build. She watched him carefully, noting what pleased him and repeating it. His breathing grew ragged and he pulled her hips down harder. Involuntarily she clenched her muscles round him and heard him gasp. His whole body shuddered. She did it again. He groaned, thrusting deeper, harder, until his body spasmed and she felt the hot rush of his release.

She smiled, breathing hard now, heart hammering. ‘That was amazing.’

‘You’re amazing,’ he replied. ‘That was incredible.’

‘I’m glad.’

Mingled with that was relief that she had pleased him. It astonished her to discover how easily she could arouse him.

‘Rest with me awhile, sweetheart.’

Isabelle lay down beside him, filled with a sense of well-being and contentment, basking in the sunshine and in the feeling of his arms around her. She had never imagined that intercourse could be so enjoyable or a man so considerate. It created feelings of rightness and belonging, of wanting to please him even more. Alistair had forced her to do things that she loathed; the thought of doing them with Ban filled her with excitement and anticipation. She smiled to herself. All in good time.

At some point amid these musings she must have dozed because she was brought back to full consciousness by a man’s thumb gently brushing across the peak of her breast. It created a sensation so delicious it was hard to breathe. Opening her eyes she saw Ban looking down at her. She saw him smile. The gentle brushing motion continued creating a ripple of pleasure. He bent and kissed her softly.

‘You have been more than generous in pleasing me. Now it’s my turn to please you.’

‘You did please me, my lord.’

‘Not as much as I hope to,’ he replied.

Her pulse quickened a little. Before she had a chance to speculate any further she felt him tugging gently at her gown.

‘Take it off, Isabelle.’

For a moment she wondered if he was serious, but nothing in his expression gave her to think otherwise. Slowly she got to her knees and, somewhat uncertainly, complied. Ban nodded approval.

‘The shift as well.’

The quiet command sent a wave of heat through her entire body. ‘It’s broad daylight, Ban.’

‘So it is.’

‘There are no locks on the doors either.’

‘That’ll add a little zest to the occasion.’

In spite of their earlier history this was still shocking. She ought to refuse. She didn’t want to refuse. She wanted whatever was going to happen next. With slightly unsteady hands she unfastened the shift and drew it off.

‘Unbind your hair.’

She drew the braid over her shoulder and untied the ribbon, aware of his gaze following her every move. Slowly she undid the heavy plait and shook her hair free. It flowed over her back and shoulders like auburn fire. Ban unlatched his belt and laid it aside, then pulled off his tunic and shirt. She could see the new scars on his shoulder and ribs, livid in the sunlight. Unhurriedly he unfastened his breeks...

* * *

Later they lay together in sated stillness, drowsy and utterly content. Through half-closed eyes he studied her carefully, drinking in every detail of her face, the soft hollow of her neck and shoulder, the swelling breasts and delicate pink nipples. Her skin was smooth and pale as alabaster. His gaze travelled lower to her waist and the curve of her hip and triangle of hair that covered her sex, the same shade as the fiery auburn tresses now carelessly spread across his cloak, and then lingered a moment on her belly. Perhaps his seed had already taken root in her. Perhaps even now she was carrying his child.