His Lady of Castlemora(36)

'I could not think of anything less so, or of anything more unjust.'

'I have never spoken of it until now, but I should not like you to think that Beatrice was an object of affection.'

Her throat tightened. 'I am glad you told me. I shall honour the confidence.'

'I know.'

His look and tone were entirely earnest and that created a variety of  emotions in her. She knew it could not have been easy to speak of such  things, especially after so long a silence. That he should have trusted  her with the truth made her feel honoured and deeply moved. It also  induced an uncomfortable reappraisal of her own response to his status  as a dispossessed Sassenach thane. She was ashamed to think of it now. A  man's character did not derive from how rich he was or how much he  owned. If wealth and land were indicators of goodness and worth Alistair  Neil should have been among the foremost in all of Scotland. It was a  lesson learned late but learned thoroughly.

The path they had been following climbed steadily until it levelled out  again at the top of the hill. The position afforded an uninterrupted  view down the glen and for a little while they paused to admire it.  Isabelle thought then that they might turn back but somewhat to her  surprise Ban turned his horse's head away from Glengarron.

'There's a pretty little lochan among those trees yonder. It's not above a mile distant. I thought you might like to see it.'

'Of course.'

They rode on quietly for some way across a stretch of open heath. As  they continued the track passed close to an ancient ring of standing  stones, as tall as a man and all lichened and weathered. Isabelle  surveyed them curiously.

'What do think they were for?'

'Worship of the gods perhaps, or some other form of ceremonial.'

'The place certainly has an atmosphere about it.'

'I once saw Iain settle a score here with an enemy.'

Her eyes widened a little. 'He killed a man here?'

'Aye, he did. A Norman knight called Fitzurse; an evil swine and no mistake. He tried to stab Iain in the back.'

'Then he was justly paid out for it.'

'That he was,' said Ban. 'My only regret is that the brute didn't die at my hand.'

'Why so?'

'It was he and his mercenaries who burned Heslingfield and slew my kin.'

'Then surely you had the right to face him in combat?'

Ban shook his head. 'Iain's claim was older than mine. He'd been seeking  Fitzurse for years before I came on the scene, and with good cause. I  yielded to his right on condition that he avenged us both for past  wrongs, which he duly did.'

'This Fitzurse sounds like a truly evil man.'

'He was. The world is well rid of him.'

Isabelle shivered inwardly. The stones had doubtless witnessed much  bloodshed and no doubt would witness much more. In this land only the  strong survived. Men like Iain and Ban.

'Does the lochan have a bloody history too?' she asked.

He laughed. 'Not as far as I'm aware.'

In fact the lake was, as he had as said, a pretty place. It was situated  in a natural bowl of the land, its rocky shore screened by birch and  rowan trees, its clear waters sunlit and still. Isabelle reined in at  the edge of the trees and looked around.

'It's a pleasant spot,' she observed.

'I hoped you'd think so. I've always liked it. I come here from time to time.'

'I can see why.'

'Would you like to stop for a while?'

'Why not?'

They dismounted and tethered the horses to a bush, then strolled to the  water's edge. Isabelle smiled, enjoying the warm sunshine and peaceful  green beauty of the place, more than ever aware of the man beside her.  It had been in such a place that she'd first met him, a memory that  caused a different kind of heat deep inside.                       
       
           



       

By tacit consent they walked a little way and then he spread his cloak  in a sheltered turfy hollow among the rocks and they sat together in  companionable silence, leaning against the warm stone. Isabelle eyed the  lochan speculatively.

'Do you suppose the water is warm?'

His eyes gleamed. 'Why? Were you planning to swim?'

She reddened a little. 'I'm not sure that would be wise.'

'It would be most unwise. The lochan is freezing.'

'You speak from experience.'

'That's right.' He paused. 'Of course, you don't have to take my word  for it. In fact I'd be very happy for you to put it to the test. I'll  sit here and watch.'

'You'll do no such thing.'

He sighed heavily and they both laughed. Then her gaze met his and  laughter faded and became something more intense. He leaned closer, his  face only inches from hers. She met it in a light and gentle kiss. Ban  shifted a little, sliding his arms around her for a more lingering  embrace. It set every nerve alight. His hold tightened and the kiss  became deeper, his tongue teasing and flirting with hers. Isabelle slid  her fingers through his hair. It was thick and tawny as a lion's mane  and, unlike most men, he kept it clean. It slipped easily through her  fingers, the feel of it subtly sensual. Gently she caressed the back of  his neck. The kiss became passionate.

Shifting just a little she slipped a hand between them and stroked.  There followed a sharp intake of breath and in moments she felt swelling  hardness beneath her fingers. The suddenness of it astonished and  encouraged at the same time. She heard him groan.

'You're playing with fire again, my sweet.'

She said nothing, only continued to stroke him. Ban drew another sharp  breath, his expression taut and ecstatic. She could see resolve  crumbling and bit back a smile.

'Have you no mercy, woman?'

She reached for the fastenings of his hose and tugged gently. Freed from  the confining cloth his erection stood proud. Even though she had  witnessed it before it still had the power to astonish and, now, to  excite. Stronger was the desire to have him inside her. She realised  then that this wasn't just about conceiving a child any more: it was  about a different kind of need; needing him, wanting him, wanting this.

Shifting position she lifted the hem of her gown and straddled him,  lowering herself slowly, letting him slide into her. It felt quite  astoundingly good. His hands slid behind her buttocks pulling her  closer. She began to rock slowly. She heard another sharp intake of  breath and continued. He thrust deeper. Isabelle bit her lip to stop  herself crying out. Ban frowned.

'Am I hurting you, sweetheart? Do you want me to stop?'

'No, you're not hurting me, and don't you dare stop.'

He laughed softly. She felt him thrust again, and then repeat the  action, more strongly each time. Her body moved with him, feeling the  rhythm build. She watched him carefully, noting what pleased him and  repeating it. His breathing grew ragged and he pulled her hips down  harder. Involuntarily she clenched her muscles round him and heard him  gasp. His whole body shuddered. She did it again. He groaned, thrusting  deeper, harder, until his body spasmed and she felt the hot rush of his  release.

She smiled, breathing hard now, heart hammering. 'That was amazing.'

'You're amazing,' he replied. 'That was incredible.'

'I'm glad.'

Mingled with that was relief that she had pleased him. It astonished her to discover how easily she could arouse him.

'Rest with me awhile, sweetheart.'

Isabelle lay down beside him, filled with a sense of well-being and  contentment, basking in the sunshine and in the feeling of his arms  around her. She had never imagined that intercourse could be so  enjoyable or a man so considerate. It created feelings of rightness and  belonging, of wanting to please him even more. Alistair had forced her  to do things that she loathed; the thought of doing them with Ban filled  her with excitement and anticipation. She smiled to herself. All in  good time.

At some point amid these musings she must have dozed because she was  brought back to full consciousness by a man's thumb gently brushing  across the peak of her breast. It created a sensation so delicious it  was hard to breathe. Opening her eyes she saw Ban looking down at her.  She saw him smile. The gentle brushing motion continued creating a  ripple of pleasure. He bent and kissed her softly.                       
       
           



       

'You have been more than generous in pleasing me. Now it's my turn to please you.'

'You did please me, my lord.'

'Not as much as I hope to,' he replied.

Her pulse quickened a little. Before she had a chance to speculate any further she felt him tugging gently at her gown.

'Take it off, Isabelle.'

For a moment she wondered if he was serious, but nothing in his  expression gave her to think otherwise. Slowly she got to her knees and,  somewhat uncertainly, complied. Ban nodded approval.

'The shift as well.'

The quiet command sent a wave of heat through her entire body. 'It's broad daylight, Ban.'

'So it is.'

'There are no locks on the doors either.'

'That'll add a little zest to the occasion.'

In spite of their earlier history this was still shocking. She ought to  refuse. She didn't want to refuse. She wanted whatever was going to  happen next. With slightly unsteady hands she unfastened the shift and  drew it off.