'It cannot be avoided any longer.'
'You don't have to tell me.'
'I think I do.' She reddened a little but, having committed herself thus far, knew she had to go on. 'Alistair could not always perform his marital duties. When he did...well, he needed...he needed the stimulation of violence.'
Ban frowned. 'Violence? What sort of violence?'
She drew another deep breath. 'He liked to beat me. When I cried out it excited him, you see.'
He did see. Suddenly a whole lot of things had just become clear and he was sickened. That any man should hurt a woman was beyond all bounds of acceptable behaviour. 'I'm so sorry.' Even as he said it he realised how trite the words must sound to her.
'In a year of marriage I did not once conceive,' she went on. 'It was the reason the Neils wanted me gone.'
'Why should they put all the blame on you?'
'In such cases the woman is always to blame.'
Ban had the uneasy feeling she might be right. Had he not listened to the voice of doubt without even speaking to her? There were always two sides at least to every story. Moreover, this account had major implications.
'That's in the past now, my sweet.'
'Is it?' Her anguished gaze met his. 'What if it wasn't just him? What if it was me?'
'From what you've said I feel pretty sure that it wasn't.'
'You may still have married a barren woman.'
'Isabelle, I suspect these fears are groundless.'
'You don't know how much I pray for that. I want to bear your children, Ban, not have you put me aside one day.'
His jaw tightened. 'I have no wish to put you aside.'
'You might have no choice. You need direct male heirs.'
'We'll have them, I'm certain of it.'
'That's what Murdo said.'
Ban's eyes glinted. 'Oh, did he?'
'Ironically, he was the only person at the time who took my part.'
'He must have had good reason.'
'Murdo was ever well informed. It seems that some of his information came from whores who had lain with Alistair Neil. They said he couldn't-' She broke off, feeling her face redden.
Ban regarded her keenly and then he laughed out loud. Isabelle grew hotter.
'It's no laughing matter.'
'Forgive me, but surely you know what this this means.' When she continued to stare at him he grinned broadly. 'Your former husband was impotent, my sweet.'
Isabelle's heart gave a painful lurch. 'Then...it wasn't me?'
'If Murdo is right it most certainly wasn't you.'
'Oh, Ban.'
'It would also explain why he had no qualms at all about wishing to take you to wife.'
Just then she didn't know quite whether to laugh or cry. 'I hate Murdo more than any other living man, but I hope with all my heart that he was right about this.'
The very thought that it might be so lightened her spirits dramatically.
* * *
It seemed also to have affected Ban. At table that evening he was attentive and courteous as usual but he seemed more relaxed than he had erewhile. He laughed more, and took a larger part in the discussion. It gladdened her to see it. If this development could please him so much, how much more would he be pleased when she was with child? She allowed herself to use when now, rather than if. Smiling to herself she took a sip of wine and relaxed a little, allowing herself to be drawn by the convivial atmosphere.
Ban and Lord Iain began to relate the tale of a distant exploit, of a cattle raid that had become a mud-splattered stampede in an unexpected thunderstorm. With impeccable timing one would interject with more details, piling one absurdity on another until their listeners were crying with laughter. Isabelle laughed too. The story lent another dimension to these men who, it seemed, were not infallible despite clever planning and could make themselves the butt of a joke. It only made them more attractive in her eyes. It occurred to her then that laughter bound men as effectively as shared adventures and success in battle, and guessed that their shared history was colourful, chequered and, at times, hilarious.
She gave the conversation her full attention, absorbing every detail about Ban's background so that she could flesh out what she already knew. Understanding of the past would provide added insight into his mental processes now. The survival instinct was strong in him and it had coloured his thinking for years, teaching him to separate emotion from events. And yet he was not incapable of feeling, of loving. With Ashlynn and with his young nephews the barriers came down. Might they one day do the same for his wife?
Chapter Fifteen
Now that his shoulder was growing stronger Ban had begun to exercise gently and, eventually, to ride again. His first trip was to visit Jock's wife. As he had anticipated it wasn't an easy meeting for either of them but it was necessary and, ultimately, he was glad he'd done it.
'Jock would have been pleased,' said Isabelle when they met later.
'It was the least I could do,' he replied. 'Maggie and the children will be taken care of in the material sense, but they're utterly bereft and nothing can change that.'
'You miss him too, don't you?'
'He was a brave man and a good friend.'
'I regret his loss more than I can say.'
'You have no need to feel guilt, Isabelle. He would not want you to.'
'All the same I do feel it, and keenly too.'
'Then it's time to take your mind off it for a while.' He paused. 'Would you care to ride out with me tomorrow?'
'I'd like that.'
'The glen is pretty at this season. You might like to see more of it.'
'Yes, I would. Very much.'
* * *
They kept the horses to a steady pace. Apart from her concern over Ban's current level of fitness, Isabelle wanted to be able to take in the details around her. Glengarron was certainly beautiful at this season with the purple heather on the hills and the clouds high in a late summer sky, dappling the hills with light and shadow.
'I can understand why you have grown fond of this place,' she observed.
Ban nodded. Not so long ago he had thought he wouldn't live to see it again, never mind see it with the company he would most have sought.
'It has become a second home; one I little thought to have.'
'In that respect at least you were fortunate.'
'More than I can say.'
She smiled wryly. 'Life never turns out as we expect, does it?'
'Not very often,' he agreed. 'But then we live in uncertain times.'
'I used to think that marriage would place me out of harm's way; that somehow a home and husband would make me invincible.'
'No one is invincible.'
'True. It's just that we don't expect harm to come from those closest to us. It seems like the worst kind of betrayal.'
'It is.'
'You speak from experience.'
'Very much so.'
'Beatrice?' She stopped herself there, mentally cursing her tactlessness. 'Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that.'
'Forget it.'
'I speak without thinking too often. I didn't mean to resurrect a demon.'
'No demon, at least not now. I have long seen her for what she was.'
'It's good that you have.'
'She was part of a dream I once wove. It had no basis in anything other than wishful thinking and eventually I had a rude awakening.'
She hesitated, but his manner now seemed more relaxed than before. It encouraged her to test the water a little further. 'Did she love someone else?'
'I believe she loved only herself. I merely entertained her for a while.'
'I'm sorry to hear it.'
'She completely neglected to mention that, even while she was seeing me, she was betrothed to an earl.'
'What!'
'I could scarce believe it either.' He shrugged. 'She only broke with me because the wedding was imminent.'
'Good heavens. That must have been unspeakably hurtful.'
'It was, but not nearly as hurtful as what followed.'
Isabelle regarded him keenly but remained silent, content to let him take his time. He drew a deep breath.
'I should have kept my temper but I didn't and we quarrelled. Beatrice screamed and the servants came running. I was taken before her father. She accused me of having pursued her against her wishes and of having forced my attentions on her.'
'How could she do such a thing?'
'I think there wasn't much she wouldn't have done just then to make herself out to be the injured party.'
'Her father believed her?'
'He believed her all right. After all, she was betrothed to an earl, one of the richest and most powerful men in the land. Why should she deign to look at a landless Saxon thane?'
Isabelle stared at him, appalled. 'What did he do?'
'He had four of his henchmen give me a beating for presumption. They were very thorough.'
'You might have been killed.'
'They stopped short of that; it would have invited serious trouble from Glengarron. Instead I was thrown on my horse and ejected from the premises.' He smiled wryly. 'Hardly a tale of high romance, is it?'