His Lady of Castlemora(16)

'I dinna much like turning my back on the scum,' said Davy.

'Their kind is better kept in plain view,' replied Jock.

Davy eyed Ban quizzically. 'Will we be staying here much longer, my lord?'

'For a while yet,' said Ban.

His men exchanged knowing grins. He returned a smile. They had guessed  his interest, although not the depth of his involvement and he couldn't  tell them. Much as he disliked keeping them in the dark about his  intentions, he had no other option at present. The situation was too  delicate to share. Although matters hadn't got off to the best start he  was hopeful of amending them. If everything went as he hoped thereafter  he'd be able to announce his betrothal soon enough. Then they could all  go home.

'The lady is fair,' said Jock.

Ban's face remained impassive. 'Yes, she is.'

'Rumour didn't do her justice.'

'Quite so.'

'The man who wins her will be most fortunate.'

'Indeed he will.'

Realising he wasn't going to be drawn Jock let the subject drop and the conversation turned to other things.

Ban hid a smile, amused rather than annoyed by so transparent an attempt  to pump him for information. In fact Isabelle had been very much on his  mind. Since their betrothal the only real chance to speak with her had  been when they met at table and, since the place was public, their  conversation was confined to safe topics. After the disastrous episode  following their betrothal she seemed a little more diffident, more eager  to please. At the same time her smile had an anxious quality that he  found perturbing. He didn't want her to feel anxious or uncomfortable  around him; on the contrary. Furthermore it mattered rather more than he  could have anticipated. Her fear was an affront to manhood: so lovely a  woman ought to enjoy intimacy, not dread it, and he wanted very much to  instil that idea. The setback had not abated his interest in the least.  If anything it had increased. The thought of her excited him, something  he had not expected to find in a potential bride. In consequence he  found himself looking forward to the day when he could take her to his  bed openly and as often as he pleased. When he did he wanted it to be  with her willing consent.

In his exploration of Castlemora he had located an old barn which was  set apart from the main buildings but close enough to afford relatively  easy access. It was used to store hay and grain. Being quiet and little  frequented it thus provided a convenient place for his purpose since he  and Isabelle could meet there discreetly. It carried an element of risk  but there was no way around that. Discovery would be extremely awkward  but, if anything, the possibility lent spice to the adventure.

* * *

When he proposed the place to Isabelle she made no demur. The barn was  out of the way and they were unlikely to be disturbed. Not that the fear  of discovery was uppermost in her mind just then. Having had time to  grow accustomed to the idea of their betrothal and to Ban's company, she  just wanted to get the business of consummation over with. After the  first time it would doubtless be easier.

He was waiting when she arrived. His presence seemed to dominate the  space somehow and he seemed disconcertingly at ease whereas she felt as  nervous as a goose at the approach of Michaelmas.

He smiled at her. 'I wondered if you would change your mind.'                       
       
           



       

'No, I haven't changed my mind.'

'I'm glad. I know this isn't easy for you.'

Her eyes widened a little. 'I think perhaps it isn't easy for either of us, my lord.'

'I'd be the first to admit that the circumstances are not ideal but you  have no reason to be afraid. Nothing that happens here is going to hurt  you.'

'I know.'

'Then will you trust me?'

She nodded. He drew her closer, his lips brushing hers, soft, coaxing.  As she relaxed a little the kiss became more assertive, his tongue  flirting lightly with hers. He tasted pleasantly of mead, a heady  sweetness that mingled with the scents of hay and wool and leather. His  hold tightened a little so that she was pressed against him, his hands  caressing her back. Their warmth sent a tremor along her skin.  Tentatively she pressed closer. As she did so she felt the start of his  arousal. Her pulse quickened but not entirely through apprehension.

He drew back a little, looking into her face. 'Come.'

His cloak was spread out on the hay and he drew her down with him and  then resumed where they had left off. He took his time, kissing,  caressing, using every device he knew to please and arouse, unwilling to  hurry this and lose all the ground he had won. She was prepared to  trust him and he would ensure her trust was not misplaced. It was no  hardship. He'd wanted her from the first, but what he felt now went  beyond the thought of physical gratification. This woman excited him in  ways that no other ever had. For all manner of reasons he wanted to  prolong this experience.

Gradually the caresses became bolder, exploring her breast and waist and  buttocks. Isabelle tried to follow his lead, returning his kiss,  sliding her hands across his shoulders and thence to his back but the  woollen tunic was a hindrance. She paused, fumbling for the fastening of  his belt. At length she found it and unlatched the buckle. The belt  came loose and was discarded. The tunic rode up easily, allowing access  to the shirt beneath. Tugging at the fabric she managed to free it, then  let her hands slide across the warm skin beneath, feeling the play of  his muscles. His kiss deepened in response, became a little more  demanding.

He guided her hand to his groin and with a sense of shock she felt his  erection, huge and rock hard, quite unlike anything in her experience  and, for a second, deeply disconcerting. Summoning her wits she began to  stroke him, heard a sharp indrawn breath in response. She felt his hand  along her thigh, the touch gentle but assured. His fingers slid between  her thighs and thence to her sex. She tensed; then heard his voice,  quiet and reassuring.

'It's all right, sweetheart. Nothing bad is going to happen.'

Obediently she made herself relax a little, permitting the intimacy. The  light stroking movement created a sensation of unexpected warmth in the  core of her pelvis. That too was disconcerting but not unpleasant. She  relaxed a little more as he continued. A few moments later the warmth  was followed by slick wetness. For a terrible moment she thought that  her flux had begun but he seemed not to find anything untoward and went  on stroking her. What had been pleasant became closer to pleasurable.  Her pulse quickened a little.

Ban unfastened his breeches and his erection sprang proud. She closed  her hand around the shaft, wondering how on earth her body was going to  accommodate him. Surely it had to hurt. Even if it did there was no  turning back now. She had to go through with this, couldn't fail him a  second time.

He raised her skirts higher until she was naked to the waist. She  reddened, acutely aware of broad daylight and the vivid blue gaze  surveying her lower body. Apparently he was not dissatisfied with what  he saw because she saw him smile. A few moments later his knee parted  her thighs and he slid into her, slowly, carefully, until she had the  length of him. Isabelle blinked. It hadn't hurt. As she was assimilating  the fact he began to move inside her. That at least was not unexpected.  Recalling what her former husband had commanded of her, she put her  arms around Ban and raised her knees. He thrust harder, deeper, the  rhythm increasing. Isabelle moved with him, praying she might please him  this time. Then he might not repent of the bargain.
                       
       
           



       
The action caused an unaccustomed surge of excitement in him. However,  he reined desire in hard. No matter what, possession must not become  violation. Nothing that happened here today must frighten or disgust  her. Consequently he held back as long as he could but eventually  release became inevitable. He had to hope he'd done enough to convince  her that he didn't intend to hurt her. This exercise was going to be oft  repeated and when he took her in future he wanted her willing  compliance.

He took his weight on his elbows and withdrew, surveying her keenly. 'Are you all right, sweetheart?'

'Yes, my lord.' She paused. 'That was...nice.'

He smiled wryly. 'Indeed it was, but it's going to get a lot better.'

'Better?'

'That's right.'

She remained silent, uncertain what he meant. Things had already gone  far better than she had anticipated. Alistair Neil had never treated her  with such consideration. Submission to him had felt like subjugation.  Submission to this man felt quite different. Exactly why that was she  couldn't have said; all she knew was the truth of it. Of course a woman  could not expect to get pleasure from the act as men seemed to do, but  Ban had just demonstrated that it need not be disagreeable. She had  experience enough to realise that he had used restraint with her, hoping  no doubt to allay her fear, and she was grateful. Such apprehension  seemed foolish now.