He could well imagine Ashlynn's reaction to his behaviour; she would take him roundly to task over it and demand he acknowledge Isabelle properly. Continuing the relationship in the same covert manner would not be something his sister would ever sanction, not even, he suspected, for the sake of an heir. After her experiences during the Harrying, Ashlynn was nothing if not protective of those she considered vulnerable. And Isabelle was desperately vulnerable. Nothing has changed. The arrangement still stands. How glib those words seemed now. Suddenly a great deal had changed and made everything far more complex than even he had imagined. Even his feelings were complicated: emotions that were unaccustomed and disquieting. He had no experience to call on, nothing that might help him find his way. The knowledge did little to raise his spirits.
Chapter Twelve
The next time he woke he felt rather better, his mind sharper. Turning his head he saw a woman standing by the window. She had her back to him, her form silhouetted against the late afternoon light. However, her gown was familiar.
'Ashlynn? Could I have some water?'
At the sound of his voice the woman turned quickly and his heart performed a painful manoeuvre as he recognised her.
'Isabelle. What are you doing here?'
'Lady Ashlynn is resting so I've been sitting with you awhile.'
'I see.'
For a moment or two they surveyed each other in silence. He realised she was wearing one of his sister's gowns. The forest-green one. Ashlynn must have lent it to her. He thought the colour suited her well.
She looked away. 'I'll fetch you that drink.'
He watched her cross to the table and pour water from the jug into a horn cup. Then she returned. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed she leaned towards him. As she did so he caught a subtle trace of lavender scent from her gown. It was as unexpected and disconcerting as her presence. She held the cup to his lips. To cover his inner confusion he drank some of the water. It gave him a little space in which to gather his thoughts.
'Thank you.'
She straightened and moved away, replacing the cup on the table. 'You look a little better today.'
He frowned. 'Today? Have you been here before then?'
'Several times.'
The thought that she had been with him, watching him sleep, was strangely unsettling though not displeasing.
'I wanted to help,' she went on, 'and it seemed little enough to do-in the circumstances.'
'I thank you for your care.'
'It is I who should be thanking you,' she replied.
'I don't want your gratitude, Isabelle.'
The tone was unintentionally abrasive and she looked away. Ban mentally cursed his tactlessness.
'What I meant was you owe me nothing.'
'That isn't true and we both know it. But for me none of this would have happened.'
'You have no reason to feel guilt. The responsibility lies with Murdo.'
The name fell between them, bitter and unsavoury, evoking unpleasant memories. Isabelle grimaced.
'I hope to heaven that he has died of his wound by now. If so my brother is justly avenged.'
'Aye, he is, although I'd hoped to kill Murdo myself.'
'The sooner he's dead the better. Otherwise you would have a blood feud on your hands into the bargain.'
'A blood feud?'
'He intended to get my dowry back from the Neils.'
'Ah.'
'Since they would rather die than yield up a penny of it there would have been slaughter on a grand scale.'
'That there would.'
She shook her head. 'I would not have anyone die for such a reason, not even Alistair Neil.'
He frowned, uncertain he'd heard aright. 'Forgive me, but I'm not sure I follow.'
'The truth is that there was no love lost between us.'
It wasn't in the least what he'd expected to hear and it caused a rapid revision of some earlier assumptions. 'That might have changed, with time.'
'No amount of time would have made any difference. My late husband was a brute. So, while I would not have sought his death, I cannot wish him back either.'
He was silent for a moment or two, letting the implications sink in. Then he recalled another conversation. There is no pleasure for a woman in the marriage bed. Suddenly a whole lot of other ramifications occurred to him. Was that part of her reluctance for their betrothal? Had she been afraid he would hurt her? The idea was abhorrent. He needed to find out more.
'But your father couldn't have known that when he agreed to the marriage?'
'No, I truly believe he did not.' She sighed. 'It seemed to be a glittering match in every way. I must take my share of the blame since I also took it on face value.'
'You are not the first to have made that mistake and I imagine you won't be the last.'
'Are you speaking in general or specific terms?'
He hesitated. 'I once fell for a beautiful face, but it didn't take me long to discover the shallowness behind.' He smiled in self-mockery. 'I was a lot younger then.'
'What was her name?'
'Beatrice.'
He shifted position a little and winced at the answering stab of pain in his shoulder. It carried him back four years to a patch of muddy ground and four men whose fists and feet hammered home the penalty for presumption.
Isabelle surveyed him steadily. 'She hurt you, didn't she?'
It was not the pain he remembered. Flesh healed after a while; humiliation never did. At best it could be buried.
'It was many years ago and it has long since ceased to matter.'
'If you say so.'
He averted his gaze. 'If you don't mind I'd like to sleep awhile.'
'Of course.'
'You need not stay. I'm sure you have better things to do than play nursemaid to me.'
With that he shut his eyes, bringing the conversation to a definitive end. Isabelle made no attempt to alter that. He heard her move away and then the door opened and closed. He was alone. It should have come as a relief but what he felt just then was bereft.
* * *
Isabelle didn't return to her room but took the stairs to the top of the tower instead. At the end of the passageway a small door led out on to a terrace which overlooked the glen and the hills beyond. It was a private place, found by accident not long after her arrival at Dark Mount, and just now the solitude was welcome. She leaned disconsolately against the warm stone trying not to think about Ban. After all he'd just made it very clear that he didn't want her company. Considering what she knew of marital relationships she ought to have been better prepared for rejection. As it was, it hurt more than any beating in her experience.
She sighed. How was it that some women seemed to possess an innate understanding of how to please a man, while she had none? Her mirror told her that she was not ill-looking, but physical beauty wasn't enough. Alistair Neil had found her attractive but she had never been able to please him in any of the ways that mattered. Ban had found her attractive enough to seek a betrothal, and to bed her of course, even to rescue her, but he didn't love her. She was a possession, like his horse and his sword. No man takes what is mine. He'd been injured and lost a friend on her account. Small wonder if he blamed her. Far from pleasing him as she had hoped, this alliance had left an indelible memory for all the wrong reasons. The one consolation in this sorry mess was that he was on the road to recovery, and if she'd helped towards that the effort had been worthwhile. He was out of danger so he wouldn't need the intensive nursing he'd had hitherto. There was no point in her returning to the sick room again. For both their sakes it was better to stay away.
* * *
For the next three days Ban's heart leapt every time the door opened, and each time it sank when he saw that the visitor wasn't Isabelle. He realised then that she had taken his words to heart and wouldn't be coming back. Ashlynn, who visited regularly, watched him in concern. His injuries were healing well and he was able to sit up and take nourishment again, but his spirits seemed low. His temper was uncharacteristically short too. At first she attributed it to pain but when she asked if his wounds were hurting he denied it.
'I hate to see you like this, Ban. Won't you tell me what's wrong?'
'Nothing's wrong.'
'Then why are you behaving like a bear with a sore head?'
His jaw tightened. 'I'm just tired of lying abed, that's all.'
'It won't be long before you're up and about again.'
'It can't come too soon as far as I'm concerned.'
'It can't come too soon for the rest of us either,' she replied.
It drew a self-deprecating sigh. 'I'm sorry, Ash. I don't mean to be ungrateful-or bearish. It's just having too much time on my hands and not enough to do.'
'Good try, Brother. If I didn't know you better that might have convinced me.'
'All right, I've had things on my mind as well.'