The Laird's Captive Wife (14 page)

‘Then you don’t mean to…you won’t—’ She broke off, floundering.

‘No, I don’t mean to. There’s time enough, lass.’

The words, delivered with such quiet assurance, served only to reinforce the truth. He did have time, but underneath that statement was a colder reality. While he had sufficient honour not to force her, the fact that he chose not to prosecute his right was further indication of how deeply he resented this marriage. How could this compare to what had gone before? How far she must fall short in his eyes—an unwilling bride and an unattractive one to boot! Ashlynn lifted her chin and gathered about her what dignity she could muster.

‘I think time will make little difference,’ she replied, ‘since we are together only at the king’s command, not personal inclination.’

The barb went deeper than anticipated but his tone remained calm. ‘As you say, and yet the situation carries its own inevitability.’

‘You may believe that, but it’s not a view I share.’

‘Maybe not, but if you think about it you’ll see that I’m right.’

‘I have no wish to think about you at all.’

‘None the less, you will abide here from now on and you will see me every day of your life whether you want to or not. In the meantime you may return to your room if you will.’

Ashlynn’s jaw tightened as she clamped the lid on anger. ‘Gladly, my lord.’ She moved towards the outer door and paused a moment. ‘I bid you a goodnight.’

Taken by surprise Iain could only watch her retreating figure until the door closed behind her. Then he sighed and turned away toward the hearth, staring down into the flames, his fist clenched above the lintel.

Ashlynn regained the relative sanctuary of her own room. Now that she was alone, anger quickly cooled leaving her feeling only weary and disconsolate. She should not have let him provoke her but somehow she had been unable to help herself. He was so confoundedly arrogant! Her response had been as much a defensive reflex as anything. Of all the possible beginnings to marriage this surely must rank as one of the most disastrous.

She shivered. In her absence the fire had burned down in the hearth and the room was growing chill for the servants had understandably assumed she would be spending the night elsewhere. Stripping to her chemise she climbed quickly into bed, burrowing under the furs for warmth. Lying there alone in the darkness she could hear the wind against the shutters, a lonely, desolate sound—as desolate as her own heart. In spite of fatigue it was a long time before sleep eventually claimed her.

Chapter Six

W
hen she awoke next day it was to see bars of grey light through the shutters. By their pale illumination the details of the strange room came slowly into focus and with them the recollection of her predicament. She shivered. Raising herself on one elbow she glanced across at the hearth but the fire was reduced to a heap of ash. The room was freezing now.

Ashlynn slipped from the bed and struggled into her clothes as fast as possible. Then she splashed water on her face and dragged a comb through her hair. She had just finished when Morag appeared with a platter of food which she set down on the table. Her glance went to the bed across the room and though she made no comment her expression was curious. However, nothing could have been more courteous than her tone.

‘Lord Iain sends his compliments, my lady, and says he will attend you presently.’

Ashlynn felt her heart sink. Now what? She had no desire to see him at all but in truth no way to prevent it.

‘Very well. In the meantime, please remake the fire and see that it remains lit. This room is like a tomb. It will take several days to take the chill off the air.’

As Morag bustled about Ashlynn turned her attention to the food, wondering how to comport herself in the forthcoming interview. Though neither of them had sought it they were both trapped in this marriage. Anger and resentment were pointless now. Somehow this must be faced. Besides, she knew from experience that it was worse than useless to get angry with him, and she had need of every ounce of composure she could summon.

* * *

However, when Iain appeared a short time later he made no allusion to what had passed before. Nor did he comment on her pallor or the shadows beneath her eyes even though he missed none of it. In truth it touched him more than he expected. He also seemed to recall that his words last evening had scarcely been calculated to win her over. With hindsight they seemed at best to suggest indifference, something he had not intended at all. Ashlynn’s wit was quick and sharp and she was becoming adept at finding the chinks in his armour. Even so, he shouldn’t have retaliated in that way. Adopting a rather gentler tone he bade her a good morning.

‘If you wish it, Ashlynn, I will show you Dark Mount. It is your home now and you should become acquainted with it.’

She forced back the immediate urge to refuse, acknowledging the truth of his words. This was her home now, whether she wanted it or not. It would have been foolish to reject the offer. In any case curiosity overrode apprehension.

She nodded acquiescence. ‘As you wish.’

‘Come then, lass.’

* * *

They spent the next hour on a leisurely tour. Dark Mount was bigger than she had first thought and complete with storehouses, stables, smithy and workshops. From time to time they stopped so that he could introduce her to some of his people. She made a point too of remembering names and speaking to those whom she encountered, if only briefly. It was too soon to know if she would ever be fully accepted here but clearly it would be as well to get off on the right foot.

She was also conscious of having angered his men by her earlier misguided attempt to escape en route to Jedburgh. It had been foolish in the extreme and she greatly regretted the matter now. No doubt the story had been related round many firesides already. She would not cause his people to hold an even poorer opinion of her behaviour. They were courteous enough and eyed her with frank curiosity, but she knew they were reserving judgement until they should know her better. She could not find it in herself to blame them. Perhaps in their place she’d have done the same. In the meantime she took care to behave to everyone with becoming courtesy and a pleasant word or smile at least. Iain, observing, said nothing, but her manner towards his people pleased him and he saw the guarded approval in their eyes.

Although she was quiet at first Ashlynn began to relax a little as time went on, and, as they walked and explored, he realised he had an attentive companion. She asked intelligent questions and listened to the answers. She was quick of apprehension and he had but to tell her something once for her to remember it. It reaffirmed his view that the pretty face concealed a sharp mind.

‘It is a thriving community,’ she said when at length they paused on the threshold of the barn. ‘You seem to have everything here you are likely to need.’

‘Almost,’ he agreed, ‘but ’tis as well to be prepared for every eventuality.’

‘And are you?’

‘Mostly.’

She looked around, her comprehensive gaze taking in the neat stacks of sacks and barrels, the harness and coiled ropes. Then, seeing the items in the far corner, she raised an eyebrow.

‘Sledges?’

‘Very useful for transporting supplies in the snow.’

‘Ah, yes, of course.’

He smiled faintly. ‘I try not to be caught napping.’

‘I have no doubt of that. Has Dark Mount ever come under attack?’

‘Aye, in the past. But no enemy has ever prevailed.’

‘Do you have enemies?’

‘Few living, and only one of any consequence.’

‘Fitzurse,’ she replied.

‘Aye, he. And one day I’ll find him.’

The words had been spoken casually enough but a great deal more lay behind. However, remembering his earlier response Ashlynn didn’t dare to question him further. He was not a man to cross lightly. His earlier treatment of her had demonstrated as much, though with hindsight it had also shown considerable restraint. While he was not given to fits of fury she knew instinctively that his anger once roused would be doubly dangerous. Throwing a covert glance at her husband now it was hard to imagine the battle rage on that calm face, and yet she knew it concealed passions that ran deep: a passion for war and a passion for revenge. The ghosts of the past haunted the living. Recalling that snowy field littered with corpses she shivered inwardly.

* * *

That evening she ventured down to the hall, knowing that the intimate arrangement of the previous evening would not be repeated. Part of her was glad and another part daunted. From what she had seen of the place, it was clear that dining in the hall was unlikely to be a comfortable experience. Besides, it was a masculine domain and she had not been bidden there. Iain had issued no positive invitation to join him, nor had he said that she should not. Their encounter earlier had been amicable enough but would he welcome her presence in an all-male preserve? If he rejected her how would she deal with the humiliation? For some time she hesitated. Then summoning all her courage she went down.

When she arrived Iain was already there along with many of his men. Ashlynn paused in the doorway surveying the scene, her heart beating a little faster, conscious of being the only woman present. On the other hand was she not the lady of the house now? At that recollection her chin lifted and she crossed the floor to join her husband.

As the men became aware of her presence their conversation died and all eyes followed her progress. Under their keen regard her discomfort increased. Iain looked round and for a moment he seemed surprised to see her there. Her heartbeat accelerated. Was he annoyed? Would he see this as an intrusion and send her away?

However, it seemed that was not his intent. He rose and taking her hand, conducted her to the chair next to his. She sank into it thankfully. Around them the conversation started up again.

‘This is an unexpected honour,’ he said.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement while he gestured to a servant to fill her cup.

‘I thought you might prefer your room.’

‘Hardly,’ she replied.

Recalling the somewhat austere nature of that chamber he winced inwardly.

‘In any case,’ she went on, ‘is it not fitting that we should dine together?’

‘Aye, I suppose it is.’

Ashlynn took a sip of wine, very much alive to that steady regard. What was he thinking when he looked at her? Was he remembering that other marriage, the one he had entered into for love? At least he had not humiliated her before his men and that was something. Iain made no further remark on the matter and then the food arrived, diverting his attention and apparently obviating the need for conversation. Taking her cue from him she addressed herself to the meal.

The other men ignored her for the most part, though she was aware that one or two covert glances came her way. Ashlynn looked ruefully at her humble makeshift attire. It was hardly the dress of a noblewoman. However, by accepting her presence here this evening and seating her beside him, Iain had tacitly established her position. She was not Eloise but she was his lady now and they would accept her as such. It was a small step but a significant one. Her back straightened. She might not look the part but she could at least act it.

* * *

It was not until they had finished eating that Iain turned his attention towards her again. She had begun to wonder if he had forgotten about her. Being used to conversation and friendly banter at table she found this silence awkward and a little unnerving. When he picked up the wine flagon and gestured to her cup she nodded, conscious of surprise. He wasn’t dismissing her just yet then. Perhaps they might talk a little. Their earlier conversations had whetted her curiosity and so much about this man was still a mystery. Summoning her courage again she put a toe in the water.

‘How long have you been Laird of Glengarron?’

‘Five years.’

‘I thought it longer, coinciding with your return from France.’

‘I did not go back to Glengarron then.’ He paused. ‘I hired out my sword instead.’

‘But what of your wife? Was she not with you?’

‘Eloise died in France. I returned alone.’

Ashlynn heard the edge in his voice. Most like his wife had died in childbed or from fever. They were common enough occurrences after all. However, she sensed that this was not the time to delve further and dropped the subject, fearing to alienate him. Instead she shifted the focus of the discussion. ‘You hired out your sword to the king?’

‘Aye. Malcolm was ever one for recruiting able fighters and there was plenty to be done in his service,’ he went on. ‘It kept me occupied, until my father’s last illness. Then there was no choice but to return.’

‘You speak as though you were reluctant to do so.’

‘I was. My father and I were never close and, after my mother’s death, things got much worse. She had always smoothed things over between us but when she was gone…’ He made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Dark Mount was not a congenial place to be. I was only too glad to get away in the end.’

Though the words were quietly spoken Ashlynn heard the bitter note beneath. Heard it and identified with it in part.

‘Were you reconciled at last?’

‘No. He did not favour my support of Malcolm and it deepened the estrangement between us. I was with him at the end but by then he was too ill to speak. Yet I sensed he wanted to.’

‘That is something at least. Would that I might say the same.’

He regarded her curiously. ‘You quarrelled with your father?’

‘Not in that way.’

Iain waited, suddenly wanting to know.

Ashlynn smiled sadly. ‘My mother caught a fatal fever shortly after I was born. Her death was a terrible blow to him.’

‘I can understand that, but not that he should blame you for it.’

‘He tried hard not to, but never quite succeeded in hiding his thoughts. It was always there between us.’ She sighed. ‘I think it was why he wanted me to marry Ath—’ She broke off, conscious of having almost said too much. ‘Wanted me to marry,’ she amended. ‘In that way I’d be out of his sight for good.’