'Other women do it.'
'You are not other women. You are my wife. Besides, harvesting is no work for a lady.'
'And yet I have done it in the past.'
'Maybe so, but you're not doing it now.'
'Very well. If you feel so strongly, then I won't.'
His gaze locked with hers. 'I know you won't.'
'Arrogance hasn't entirely deserted you, has it?'
Ban bit back a smile, enjoying her. He knew he ought not to push this any further but the temptation was suddenly irresistible.
'I am your husband and I will be obeyed.'
Isabelle folded her arms. 'I will obey, in this case, because I can see your reasoning.'
His eyes glinted. 'You will obey in every case whether you see my reasoning or not.'
'Or?'
'Take the consequences.'
'Why, you arrogant, overbearing...'
'Arrogant? Overbearing? Then I'd best do what I'm accused of.'
Before she had a chance to anticipate him he seized hold of her, drawing her hard against him in a fierce embrace. His mouth, slanting across her, was hard, demanding, forcing her head back in a searing kiss that left her breathless. Isabelle struggled ineffectually, her hands against his chest making no more impression than a sparrow's wings. Though still annoyed she could not be indifferent to him. His passion now was deliberately provoking but it excited her as well. She burned in the embrace even while she fought it. He held her until she capitulated. Panting she could only stare at the face looking over hers.
'Let me go, Ban.'
'No.'
'Let go, villain.'
'I detect unwifely defiance here which must be answered.'
Without warning he swung her off the ground and into his arms before striding back the way they had come. Isabelle's struggles made not the slightest impression. She was taken to their chamber with the utmost ease. Then he kicked the door shut behind them and carried her to the bed, depositing her on it and following her down. Understanding his intent, Isabelle struggled harder as annoyance vied with desire. In moments her wrists were pinned, her body pressed down into the coverlets by his. Then his mouth was on hers again, gently this time, though no less insistent. Familiar warmth kindled along her skin and her body gradually relaxed beneath him as she returned the kiss. Then he drew back a little, looking into her face.
'That's better.'
She was about to deliver a blistering retort when she saw his grin. Her eyes narrowed as realisation dawned. 'You did that on purpose, didn't you?'
'That's right.'
'And I rose to the bait.'
'Beautifully.'
It drew a reluctant laugh. 'I should know better by now.'
'Aye, you should.'
For a second or two they surveyed each other in silence. Then she tested his hold. It didn't budge.
'Ban?'
'Isabelle?'
'Are you going to let me go or not?'
'Not,' he replied.
* * *
Having been refused permission to help with the harvest Isabelle turned her attention to sewing clothes for her baby and assisting Ashlynn with household chores. She enjoyed the other woman's company and valued their developing friendship. After being so long without sympathetic female companionship it was precious. In spite of keeping herself occupied, Isabelle could not overcome a sense of foreboding as harvest drew to a close. When it was done the men would ride for Castlemora.
Ashlynn too was unwontedly sombre. 'No matter how many times I see Iain ride off to fight I always feel nervous.'
'Damn Murdo. I wish the murdering brute would drop dead of heart failure or fall from his horse and break his neck or choke at table.'
'Any one of those would be an ideal solution.'
'It isn't going to happen though, is it?'
'Probably not.'
'I want Castlemora to be regained and I want my brother avenged, but I wish it could be done without loss to Glengarron.'
'It will be done with the minimum of loss to Glengarron,' replied Ashlynn. 'Iain will see to that.'
Isabelle pondered the words later, hoping with all her heart that they were true. While Ban kept her abreast of their plans in general terms, he hadn't gone into detail and certainly hadn't mentioned strategy, but then it probably hadn't occurred to him. Most men would consider it an unfit topic for a woman's ears. She smiled to herself, imagining his response if she were to ask. Not that she would ask. In a man's world such a question would be regarded askance or with amusement.
* * *
As the afternoon wore on she tired of sewing and laid it aside. Some fresh air wouldn't come amiss and with luck she might meet up with Ban and exchange a few words. However, that proved harder to do than she had hoped for when she sought him out it was to discover he had ridden to the village with some of his men. No one knew when he might return. For a while she hesitated but then it occurred to her that she could walk towards the village herself. It was no more than a mile distant. The day was fine. She would find him there or perchance might meet him on his way back to Dark Mount. The more she thought about it the better it seemed. There could be no objection if she went attended so summoning Nell to accompany her she set out.
It was a pleasant walk and the sweet fresh air lifted her spirits. The path wound round the crag of Dark Mount and thence along the glen parallel to the burn. With the hillside purple with heather it was a bonny sight. Below it golden stubble stood in the fields where the reapers had been working. Soon it would be burned off and the strips ploughed again or left fallow, depending on requirement. To her right a stand of trees marched down the slope and across the track to the burn. It was a pleasant place providing dappled shade, a welcome contrast to the bright sunlight. As they walked Isabelle scanned the way ahead for any sign of her husband or his men, but the track was empty. Her mind leapt ahead to his coming. He would be surprised to see her there but then he would stop and dismount, sending his men on ahead. Then they would walk together and she would tell him about her day and ask him about his.
She was so preoccupied with these thoughts that at first she did not see the horsemen in the trees, or the one who detached himself from the shadows and rode out to block the path. With a sudden jolt she registered his presence, thinking for a moment it might be her husband. A closer glance undeceived her. With a horrid chill of realisation she took in the dark clothing, the shaven head, the scarred face with its close-trimmed beard and, finally, the bow in his hands with the arrow aimed towards her. She heard the sharp intake of breath from Nell as the woman stopped in her tracks. The dark gaze swept over them both and came to rest again on Isabelle. Summoning all her courage she faced him.
'What do you want, Murdo?'
'You, Isabelle.'
'You know I'll never agree to that.'
His expression sent a shiver through her. 'It makes no difference. What is to stop me carrying you off now and doing what I wish with you after?'
'You have the power,' she acknowledged, 'but it avails you naught since I would take my own life rather than submit to the dishonour you describe. After that how long do you think you could escape the wrath of Glengarron?'
'I care nothing for Glengarron.'
'And yet it has cost you dear.'
'A price I am willing to pay to get you back.'
'I was never yours and so cannot be won back by threats or promises. You slew my brother.'
'Hugh was a fool. He got what he deserved.'
'Who are you to say what men deserve?'
'He was in my way. I removed him.' His lips curved in a cynical smile. 'I take what I want, Isabelle.' He raised the bow. 'Now I shall ask you for the last time: will you return with me to Castlemora?'
'Never.'
'Then if I cannot have you no one else will.'
Her throat dried. However, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. Instead she lifted her chin. 'You are indeed a brave man thus to waylay two unarmed women.'
He ignored the gibe. 'You will die first and then the upstart who married you.'
Her heart thumped. He was well informed but then her marriage was common knowledge and no doubt common talk hereabouts. For a second she wondered about telling him she was with child but just as quickly decided against it. If he knew of the child it would likely fuel his wrath.
'You gain nothing by this, Murdo.'
'I will gain my revenge.'
'Let us go.'
'No.'
The word was softly spoken but carried a chilling malevolence. She searched his face for any sign of compassion but found none. He meant it all right. Frantically her eyes sought some possibility of rescue but saw only the shimmer of heat on the still land.