His Lady of Castlemora(9)

'Very well, Father. She has speed and stamina as we thought.'

'Good. Perhaps you will find the time to ride the others.'

She returned a non-committal smile and dismounted. Lord Ban followed  suit and came to join them. Standing so close to him now she was  forcefully reminded just how much taller he was and how strong. Thence  it was but a short step to recalling their first meeting. The memory  burned. Glancing up she saw him smile as though he somehow divined her  thought. Of course, that was impossible. Even so, her face, pink before  from the fresh air, became a much deeper shade.

Apparently unaware of her discomfiture her father turned to Ban. 'I trust you enjoyed your ride, my lord.'

'Very much, sir.' He looked at Isabelle. 'Who would not in such company?'

Her father beamed. Isabelle thought he'd look a lot less gratified if he  knew the truth. They made their way indoors for the sun was hot and the  cooler air of the hall was a welcome contrast. Graham bade the servants  fetch refreshment and then poured the ale with his own hands before  offering his guest a cup.

'It is most pleasant to have company again.'

'You are kind,' said Ban. 'In truth Castlemora is a most delightful spot.'

'Thank you.' Graham clapped him on the shoulder. 'I am glad you think so. I trust you will not find our hospitality lacking.'

'I am sure I shall not. One day I hope to have the honour of returning it.'

'If my health were better I'd like nothing more.' Graham threw him a wry  smile. 'However, this hot weather is most tiring I find. It only seems  to aggravate my condition.'

'I am sorry to hear it.'

'Never mind, I have strength enough to show you round Castlemora, if you would like it.'

Ban regarded him in concern. 'I beg you will not over-exert yourself, my lord.'

'No such thing,' replied the other. 'I'd be delighted.'

'Then I thank you.'

Isabelle's heart sank as she watched them head for the door, feeling  certain this wasn't just about showing their guest around. Her father  almost certainly intended to talk business and it had nothing to do with  horses.

* * *

Strolling to the end of the orchard the two men stopped to survey the view beyond.

'A fine prospect,' observed Ban. 'Truly Castlemora is most happily situated.'

'Aye, it is.' Graham smiled. 'And I'll leave it to my son stronger and  richer than ever it was when I became laird.' He paused. 'But it is not  of my son I would speak, as I think you know.'

Ban remained silent, waiting. Now they would come to it. He was quite  ready, knowing what needed to be said. It wouldn't be an easy  conversation but it must be unambiguous. There could be no room for  misunderstanding.

'As I told you,' Graham continued, 'my health is not of the best. It is  my ardent wish to see my daughter married again before I die.'

'A laudable aim, though I hope your lordship will live many years yet.'

'That is not likely I fear. The pains in my chest come more often now.  It is a penalty of age.' He paused. 'As I intimated, your coming here is  not just about bloodstock, though indeed the horses are very fine.'

'It is of Lady Isabelle you wish to speak.'

'My daughter's first marriage was ended untimely, a circumstance none could have foreseen.'

'A hunting accident, wasn't it?'

'Aye. A stray arrow from the thicket.' Graham shook his head. 'The  culprit was never found. Most likely it was a poacher who fired without  looking carefully enough, and then panicked and fled when he realised  what he had done.'                       
       
           



       

'That is quite possible. The fellow must have known he'd hang otherwise.'

'At any rate it was a bad business and it has left Isabelle vulnerable.'

'Did she not wish to remain among her husband's kin?'

'To be honest, there was little love lost between Isabelle and her late husband's mother.'

'I see.'

'When the match was arranged it seemed good but subsequently...' Graham  paused, eyeing his companion warily, as though deciding how far to  commit himself. Then he took a deep breath. 'Subsequently I have had  cause to repent the alliance. The Neils refused to return the balance of  my daughter's dowry.'

Ban stared at him. 'Refused?'

'Aye, God rot them.'

The news gave Ban pause, though not for the reasons his companion might  have thought. He didn't care about the gold. The point was that if  Isabelle had only a small dowry it greatly reduced her chances of making  an illustrious second match. At the same time her father wanted her off  his hands. The strengthened tie with Glengarron began to look like a  convenient pretext; the real reason was more concerned with the  bridegroom's own lack of expectations. Such a man could not look too  high for a wife. The more he thought about it the more certain Ban  became. The realisation brought with it a raft of mixed emotions. It was  a bitter reminder of what had been lost, but, at the same time, this  match offered a glimmer of hope-for his house at least.

'She will still have a dowry of course, though it will not be as great  as I'd have liked,' Graham went on. 'In spite of my representations the  Neils have refused to return any part of the original portion. Until  they can be persuaded otherwise that is how the matter stands.'

'On what grounds did they refuse?'

'On the grounds that there was no issue from the marriage.'

The question Ban had carried in the back of his mind now loomed large.  However, it was a sensitive matter and he chose his words carefully. 'No  issue because the child died, perhaps?'

'There was no child. My son-in-law was often from home in the king's  service. No doubt he thought he had time aplenty to sire heirs.'

That threw up more queries in his companion's mind. Why would a newly  married man leave his bride's bed, particularly when the bride looked  like Isabelle? Even the king would not demand such a sacrifice, unless  for dire political emergency. As far as Ban was aware there hadn't been  any of those in last year or so. There was more to this matter for  certain. While he didn't think that Graham was trying to mislead him-the  man had been frank thus far-he knew they hadn't got to the truth yet  either. Perhaps that resided with Isabelle herself.

'It surprises me that Neil should have shirked so serious a responsibility,' he said.

'He was a fool.' Graham hesitated. 'Isabelle will breed, my lord.'

'Will she?' Ban didn't want to antagonise his host but at the same time  he had to make his own position clear. 'You know my family history so I  need not repeat it now,' he continued. 'The essential point is this: as  the last surviving male member of my line it is imperative that I get  heirs to continue it.'

'Of course it is. I understand that.'

'Then you will also understand that I need to be sure.'

Graham frowned. 'What exactly are you suggesting?'

'A secret betrothal. Later, if matters turn out as planned, the arrangement would be formalised publicly.'

'It is not without precedent but it would not be easy to keep the matter quiet.'

'You may rely on my discretion.' Ban paused.

'It's a risk.'

'A calculated one, since you have already said you are certain of a favourable outcome.'

'If I agree to this I expect the matter to be expedited with all possible speed.'

'As soon as you like.'

For a moment Graham was silent, formulating his thoughts. Ban made no  attempt to push him. The proposal was not without precedent and the  circumstances were unusual. At the same time he knew that he wanted  Isabelle Graham; had wanted her since the day he met her. However,  physical desire was one thing; he couldn't afford to lose sight of the  bigger picture. He had a duty to his family, to the souls of his  murdered kin. He had to be sure.                       
       
           



       

At length Graham nodded. 'A secret betrothal it is then, for the time being.'

'The only remaining question is whether the lady will agree to the arrangement.'

'Isabelle will be ruled by me.'

Ban wasn't surprised. It was a father's responsibility to find a  suitable husband for a daughter, and her duty to accede to his choice.  If Graham spoke with such confidence it was because he knew Isabelle  respected his judgement. Privately Ban wondered what her true feelings  would be. Would she accept him willingly or would she secretly consider  such a match beneath her? Beatrice had considered it beneath her. Of  course, he'd been much younger then, and inexperienced, so smitten with a  lovely face that he'd failed to see the character behind. That had not  become apparent until he declared himself and asked for her hand...

For a moment she stared at him. Then she laughed. 'Marry you?'

At first he mistook the nature of the laughter, taking it for surprise. 'Aye, why not?'

'My father would never permit me to marry a Sassenach lord.'

'I will speak to him, talk him round.'

'It's not just that,' she replied.

'Then what? I have wealth enough.'

'But where are your lands, my lord?'

His smile faded. 'They were stolen from me.'

'And you have no prospect of regaining them.'