Joanna Fulford (20 page)

Isabelle’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled. ‘A penny for them.’

‘I was just thinking that it would be good to create life instead of taking it. That I’ve seen enough of bloodshed and war.’

‘You’ve seen your share. Heslingfield...’

He sighed. ‘Heslingfield was just the start. Since then I’ve fought my way across fields of slaughter where the corpses were piled high and the blood ankle deep. And for what? Scotland has become a vassal state in spite of it.’

‘You did what you had to, Ban, according to the dictates of conscience.’

‘No, I fought because I wished to slay Normans, and because I enjoyed it.’ His smile grew bitter. ‘God knows how many men have died at the point of my sword.’

‘You took as much risk as they.’

‘Hatred helps a man to stay alive. Rage lends strength to his arm. Eventually it becomes cold and more terrible until the only thing that brings joy is killing.’

‘But it’s not the only thing that brought you joy. You must have felt that when you discovered Ashlynn was still alive.’

‘It was the one bright spot in all the darkness.’

‘You love your nephews too. I’ve seen you with them.’

‘It’s easy to love innocence, to want to protect it.’

‘You will be a good father, I know it.’

His smile lost the bitter edge. ‘I hope so.’

‘I think Hugh would have been too. Now I am the last hope of our house.’

‘Castlemora will be regained, Isabelle, I swear it, and our children will grow up there. But before any of that can happen I must first deal with Murdo.’

‘I wish there was some other way but I know very well that there isn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘If anything were to happen to you...’

‘It won’t. I have more to lose than he.’

‘Castlemora means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?’

‘I wasn’t talking about Castlemora.’ His gaze held hers. ‘I was talking about the future I want with you. And such a future is worth fighting for.’

Her heart gave a peculiar little leap. That he was speaking of the long term indicated a shift in his thinking that gladdened her immensely. More important still was the suggestion of an emotional bond. If so, it might strengthen. One day it might even become love.

She smiled. ‘Yes, that’s worth fighting for.’

Chapter Sixteen

I
t seemed that he was not alone in considering the problem of Castlemora, and on his return Iain sought him out. For a moment or two he surveyed his brother-in-law appraisingly. Ban exuded energy and rude health once more and there was a glow in his eyes that hadn’t been there until recently. Iain grinned.

‘Marriage suits you.’

‘I think it does. Besides, I’ve wanted Isabelle since the day I set eyes on her.’

‘And she is not indifferent to you, I think.’

Recalling their recent tryst by the lochan, Ban grinned. ‘No, fortunately.’

Iain regarded him shrewdly. ‘Even married to you Isabelle is still vulnerable. She always will be while Murdo lives.’

‘This was in my mind also.’

‘He must be dealt with, Brother. He has been robbed of a prize and his is not a forgiving nature.’

‘Nor is mine, or not where he’s concerned anyway.’

‘We
should seek him out while his power is weakened. He lost many men in that last fight, but he will recruit more and that soon enough.’

‘He attracts human scum like dung attracts flies.’

‘We should act within the month. He must be crushed before he can turn his force against Glengarron because, make no mistake, he will.’

‘Then let’s do it.’

‘We’re agreed then.’

‘Aye, we’re agreed.’

* * *

With preparation in train Ban was kept busy and thus spent less time with Isabelle. She understood it, even though she missed his company. Sometimes, from a discreet distance, she watched the men training. They practised for several hours each day, honing the skills that would keep them alive in the coming battle. Yet she knew that, inevitably, some of them would not return. It was an occupational hazard and one that every fighting man accepted, but now she was emotionally involved with Glengarron and its people. Jock’s death had sealed that.

She wondered how her own people were faring under Murdo’s governance, and she feared the worst. Now that her father’s restraining hand was gone there would be nothing to stop him. Archibald Graham had always held that power and privilege went hand in hand with responsibility and obligation. Murdo had no such moral compass: to him power was an end in itself to be wielded as he saw fit and without any consideration for those weaker than himself. At Castlemora he was the law. All she could do was to pity those under his sway and look forward to the day when his rule was over.

* * *

Isabelle’s nineteenth birthday was fast approaching and Ban had commanded a feast in celebration. However, he also had a surprise up his sleeve. Leading her down to the courtyard he gave commands to the grooms to bring forth their mounts.

‘Will you ride with me, my lady?’

‘Gladly.’

Isabelle watched as the grooms led Firecrest out. He was followed by another man leading a pretty bay mare with a flowing mane and tail. Immediately Isabelle moved forwards to stroke the horse’s nose.

‘I haven’t seen this one before. How beautiful she is!’

‘You like her?’

‘Of course.’

‘She’s yours.’

Isabelle turned towards him, her eyes shining. ‘Ban, she’s wonderful. Thank you so much.’ She raised herself on tiptoe to kiss him. Never in a hundred years had she expected so generous a gift.

‘Since you cannot ride your own mount I must supply another.’ He smiled. ‘Do you want to try her?’

Isabelle laughed. ‘You know I do.’

They rode out together and Isabelle put the horse through her paces. The mare was fleet of foot and soft of mouth, responding to the lightest touch of the rein. Such a fine animal must have cost a fortune. That Ban should have thought to surprise her thus filled her heart with joy. There could be no doubting his regard for her. It was evident in his every look and touch. She responded to it like a flower to sun. Having been so long starved of affection she hungered for it now, exerting herself to please him in every way, longing for the time when affection might deepen into love, praying for the event which would bring that about.

* * *

When they stopped to let the animals rest a little he took her in his arms, looking down into her face. ‘Are you happy, Isabelle?’

The question caught her unawares. ‘Of course. Why should you doubt it?’

He smiled gently though his expression was no less earnest. ‘I want you to be happy. I want you to forget what went before as though it were no more than an evil dream.’

‘That is exactly what it seems now.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘I wish that you had been my husband from the beginning, that I’d never set eyes on Alistair Neil or his cold-hearted clan.’

‘So do I.’ He did not add that her father would never have considered him a suitable match for her then. Archibald Graham had only ever seen him as a last resort. The knowledge saddened him but he no longer felt bitter or angry. In the end he was the winner.

Isabelle sighed. ‘My only regret is that Hugh will never know about this.’

Ban dropped a kiss on her hair. ‘Perhaps he does know.’

‘Do you believe the priests are right; that the dead really watch over the living?’

‘I like to think so.’

‘It is a comforting thought.’

‘We all need those,’ he replied.

* * *

A few weeks after Isabelle’s birthday celebrations, Ashlynn was delivered of her baby, a healthy girl who had her mother’s blue eyes. Iain was clearly delighted and Ban too since his sister had come through the birth safe and well. Isabelle looked at the tiny baby and a lump formed in her throat. Envy was unworthy but she couldn’t entirely banish it. How wonderful it must be to bring new life into the world. How wonderful to watch it thrive and grow and to have the uncritical love of a completely dependent being. Her breast ached with longing. From the corner of her eye she glanced at her husband. Perhaps one day they too might have a child of their own, as healthy and as beautiful as this. Then truly they could lay the past to rest.

Ban had no trouble interpreting that look and knew he was more than willing to do his part in bringing about the desired event. However, in the background remained the shadow of a conflict. Before he and Isabelle could ever live secure an enemy had to be faced. Unwilling to spoil the mood he had put off saying anything, but now that his sister had been safely delivered of her child he knew that Iain’s mind would turn to other things.

In that he was right. Leaving the women to admire the new baby he took Ban aside.

‘Tomorrow I begin my preparations for an assault on Castlemora.’

‘When do we ride?’

‘As soon as the harvest is in. The men cannot be spared before then.’

Ban nodded. The grain was almost ready for cutting now, aided by the warm sunshine and unusually dry summer months. ‘So be it.’

‘This matter cannot be delayed any longer. The sooner Murdo is dealt with the better.’ Iain grinned. ‘Castlemora is about to have a new laird.’

‘Aye.’

Seeing Ban’s thoughtful expression Iain’s eyes narrowed a little. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘It’s just hard to take in, that’s all. After so many years of dispossession it seems incredible to think of being a landed nobleman again.’

‘That’s understandable. In your place I imagine I’d feel the same.’ Iain paused. ‘But this is the moment and we must act. Only then can you regain your rightful place in the world.’

‘I shall regain it, never fear.’

‘How is the shoulder now?’

‘Not yet as strong as it was, but I’m exercising a little more every day. I’ll be fit enough when the time comes.’

‘Good. I need you with me, Brother.’

‘I’ll be there, never fear.’ He paused, eyeing his companion steadily. ‘Just one thing though. When we do meet Murdo, the bastard’s mine.’

Iain nodded. ‘So be it.’

* * *

Back in the bed chamber the two little boys stared at the cradle wide-eyed. Then Robert looked at their mother.

‘A girl?’ The tone suggested bemusement and curiosity. It was echoed in his expression. Clearly the concept was entirely strange to him.

Ashlynn smiled. ‘That’s right. You have a little sister.’

He looked at the baby again. ‘That’s good...I suppose. All the same, she’s very small, isn’t she?’

‘All babies are small,’ said Ashlynn, ‘but she’ll grow soon enough.’

‘She’s not going to be much use at tag for a while.’

‘No, not for a while.’

Isabelle caught Ashlynn’s eye and smiled. Then, leaving her to speak to the children, she left the room and returned to the chamber she shared with Ban. He was conspicuous by his absence but Nell was there, folding clothes. She looked up as Isabelle entered.

‘Have you seen the wee mite then?’

‘I have, and she’s beautiful. Perfect in every way.’

‘Well, that’s good. I trust Lady Ashlynn is well.’

‘She is.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Childbed is hard on a woman.’

Isabelle thought she’d gladly endure any amount of pain if it meant she could have a child, if she could give her husband the son he longed for. Sons perhaps. Daughters too. She smiled to herself. Ban was lusty enough to sire a dynasty and he did not neglect his responsibility. Since their marriage very few nights had gone by without him claiming his rights and that was no hardship to her: the thought of him was enough to make her feel weak at the knees. Ban was inventive, sometimes demanding, but he never hurt her. In his arms she had only experienced uninterrupted delight.

Suddenly she was very still as the implications of that began to dawn. The natural interruption hadn’t occurred. It had been weeks since her last flux. Mentally she began counting backwards. Her breathing quickened and instinctively one hand went to her belly. She shut her eyes for a moment, fighting a rising tide of excitement, and made herself count again. The answer was the same. She ought to have bled three weeks ago. The ache in her breast might not be due to envy after all. Her heart thumped harder. Dear God, was it possible?

‘Are you all right, my lady?’

Nell’s voice brought her back to earth with a start. ‘What? Oh, yes. Perfectly.’

‘Are you sure? You look a little pale.’

‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘Maybe you should sit by the window and get some air.’

Isabelle knew she was far too excited to sit. ‘I think I’ll just go outside for a while.’

Before she could be questioned further she hurried out of the room. Once in the passageway she paused, wanting to avoid company for the time being, and then headed for the roof terrace. As she’d hoped it was empty and she could have the place to herself. For a while she paced up and down, fighting to contain her excitement, trying to collect her thoughts, uncertain whether to laugh or cry. In the end she did both.

When she was a little calmer she began to think more rationally. It was early days yet, too soon to say anything to anyone. She needed to be sure. In another week or so her flux was due again. If she missed that as well... The hope was almost painful. She glanced down at herself again. Could she really be carrying Ban’s child? If so she must have conceived very quickly. Her heart swelled with joy until she thought it might burst. She tried to imagine his expression when she told him. He would be thrilled. The future they both wanted was within their reach. She clasped trembling hands.

‘Please, God, let it be.’

She remained on the terrace until she was reasonably certain of being able to control her emotions in front of others, and especially in front of Ban. Whatever happened she would not raise his hopes until she was absolutely certain.

* * *

In spite of her best intentions she could not entirely conceal her secret. It manifested itself in quiet smiles and a strange suppressed excitement. The next week seemed to crawl by but at its end there was still no sign of her flux. Moreover her breasts were larger and slightly sore too. Then, one morning, she was sick for no apparent reason. Despite the queasiness in her stomach she was utterly elated.

Ban had left the chamber a little earlier so she was alone. The impending confrontation with Murdo meant that he had even more duties to undertake, and he was assiduous in carrying them out. The harvest was imminent and all the men would be required to help. He also spent a part of each day in exercising the muscles in his shoulder to build up their strength. It would be a while before she saw him but Isabelle could hardly wait until they were alone to tell him her news. She smiled to herself. Then another wave of queasiness rose like a tide and she rushed for the bucket once more.

Just then the door opened and Nell came in. She took in the scene at a glance, her brow creased with concern.

‘Good heavens. You are unwell, my lady.’

Isabelle straightened and wiped her mouth. ‘No, I was never better.’

‘I don’t quite...’

‘I’m pregnant, Nell.’

The older woman stared at her and then her face was wreathed in an incredulous smile. ‘May God and all the saints be praised! That’s wonderful news.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘How far along are you?’

‘About two months, as near as I can tell.’

‘Does he know?’

‘Not yet.’

‘He’ll be thrilled, I’m sure of it. What husband is not on hearing such news?’

‘It’s a dream come true. I can’t wait to tell him.’ Isabelle sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for her stomach to quieten. ‘We’ve both been hoping for this. I had no idea it might happen so soon.’

Nell squeezed her arm. ‘I’m happy for you, my lady.’

‘I was so afraid I might never conceive; that what happened before was my fault. This is such a vindication.’

‘Forget what went before. Just think about what is.’

‘I shall. I want nothing more than to put the past behind me. If I could expunge every memory of Alistair Neil I would.’

‘He’d dead, God rest his soul. Lord Ban has given you what Neil never could.’ Nell grinned. ‘The first of many I have no doubt.’

‘I truly hope so.’ Isabelle laughed shakily. ‘I want a dozen children at least.’

‘Well, there’s no reason why not, is there?’

‘Not any more.’

* * *

Later, when she had washed and dressed and made herself presentable Isabelle left the chamber and went in search of Ban. When the hall and the courtyard revealed no sign of him she enquired of a servant and was informed that he was currently closeted in private discussion with Lord Iain. Stifling disappointment she realised her news was going to have to wait. In the meantime there was a pile of mending awaiting attention. It occurred to her then that there would also be baby clothes to sew now as well. Smiling to herself she retraced her steps to the tower.