His Lady of Castlemora(44)

'Isabelle?' He pressed her hand to his lips. 'Oh, my love. Thank God.'

'Ban?' she murmured.

For a moment it seemed he could not speak; then he seemed to rally. 'I thought I'd lost you.'

She stirred a little and winced as fiery pain shot through her body.  Hearing the sharp intake of breath, he bent over her in concern.

'You must stay still, my love. You've been injured.'

'Injured how?' she asked as the pain began to subside a little.

'Someone shot you. Do you not remember?'

'No.'

Her mind was suddenly confused with lots of different images: sunshine  and trees and an empty road. Then the road was no longer empty. Men  blocked the way. She was afraid.

'It doesn't matter,' Ban said gently. 'Just rest now.'

Nothing loath she shut her eyes again. However, the images came thick  and fast then. The quiet sunlit track had become a place of menace. Its  focus was the dark-clad warrior with the bow in his hands. He was  pointing it at her and Nell. As in a nightmare she saw the arrow leave  the string, heard Nell scream and then the shaft was buried in her  breast. She cried out but already knew it was too late. Her companion  was dead. Then she had run but her legs would not move fast enough and  the horses had drawn closer, cutting off the way both forwards and back.  The dark warrior nocked another shaft to the bow and let fly. She moved  but not fast enough. There was terrible pain and then nothing, until  just now. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.

'Nell's dead, isn't she?'

'She is. I'm so sorry, Isabelle.'

'He killed her, didn't he? Murdo I mean.'

'Aye, that's right.'

'He tried to kill me.'

'But he has failed,' he said, 'for I will not let you die. He will not take you from me.'

'I don't want to leave you, Ban.'

'I should not permit it in any case.' He smiled. 'I love you, Isabelle.  More than my life. I should have told you that before. I should have  told you every day.'

'Do you mean it?'

'I mean it. If I hadn't been so blinkered I'd have realised it long since. Can you ever forgive me?'

Her heart constricted. 'Oh, Ban. There's nothing to forgive. If I have your love, that's all that matters.'

'You do have it, unconditionally and always.'

Then other bits of memory returned and she paled. 'Dear God, the baby...'

'It's all right. I've spoken to Meg.'

'Are you sure?'

'Quite sure. She says there's no sign of anything amiss. I think you must be carrying a future warrior.'

Relief flooded through her. 'I shall go to the church and light a candle to give thanks.'

'We'll both go, when you are well again.'

'What of Murdo?'

'He's dead, and by my hand.'

She seemed to relax a little. 'I am glad. He was an evil man.'

'That he was, but his days of persecuting innocents are over.'

Her eyelids closed again and presently Ban heard her breathing grow soft  and regular and knew she dozed. Even so it was a while before he could  get his own emotion under control as for the first time he found himself  truly daring to hope.

* * *

Later, when Morag came to sit awhile, he rose and betook himself to the  tower roof, needing the fresh air to clear his head. It was there that  Ashlynn found him later on.                       
       
           



       

'She will live, Ban. I'm sure of it now. The worst is over.'

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment or two.

'It is her love for you that gives her the will to fight,' she went on.

'I cannot live without her, Ash. She means the world to me.'

'I know.' She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'And you two will have a wonderful future together, never fear.'

Ban let out a ragged breath. 'I hardly dared to hope these past days.'

'Isabelle's will is strong.'

'Do I not know it?' He managed a wan smile. 'She has been through so  much but it has not broken her spirit. Yet I fear that Nell's death will  hurt her more than an arrow ever could.'

'It was a cruel and dastardly act, but Murdo has paid the price.'

'I never knew it was possible to hate so deeply till that day.'

'Hatred can be a useful tool,' she replied, 'but I think it is a bad master.'

'Meaning that I should let it go.'

'Murdo is dead, his men slain or fled. They belong to the past. Leave them there, Ban.'

'You're right. I know you are. Yet part of me still wishes him alive  again so that I could have the pleasure of slaying him anew.'

'Forget him. Think about Isabelle instead. Help her to get well.'

'She will get well, Ash, won't she?'

'I truly believe it. After all, she has everything to live for.'

* * *

It seemed that Ashlynn's prediction was correct for by slow degrees  Isabelle grew stronger and the wound began to mend. Ban spent the  greater part of each day at her side, fearful of letting her out of his  sight lest she suffer some unforeseen relapse. Eventually as she began  to take nourishment and a little of the colour returned to her cheeks he  felt better reassured. His guilt was not so soon alleviated. When he  thought back on his original treatment of her he felt only disgust. What  the hell had he been thinking? Her forbearance had been astounding.

Isabelle, comforted by his presence and his evident concern for her,  knew there was something amiss. It troubled her. Once she would have  talked it over with Nell, but that was no longer possible. She missed  her former companion terribly; missed her shrewd intelligence and sound  common sense. It was as though everything she had ever had from her past  life had been stripped away. She tried to imagine what Nell would have  said had she been there. In her mind she heard the much-loved voice:  Talk to him, child. Tell him what is in your heart.

Thus it was that when next they were alone she summoned the courage to broach the subject.

'Something is wrong, Ban. Will you not tell me what it is?'

He turned to face her, his eyes troubled. For a moment he remained silent.

'Is it something I have done?' she went on.

'That you have done? Good Lord, no! How can you think it?'

'Then tell me, I beg. I hate to see you look so.'

'It is of our earlier relationship that I would speak.' He drew in a  deep breath. 'I have thought of it often while you have lain there nigh  to death, thinking that there might never be a chance to make it up to  you.'

She had been listening to him in mounting surprise and concern. 'I  understand why you behaved as you did. The pressure on you was great.'

'And so I put unfair pressure on you.'

'You are the last surviving male of your house. Of course it was crucial  to you to produce an heir. It's important to all men but for you it  was, quite literally, a matter of life and death.' She smiled sadly. 'I  too am the last of my house. I know how it feels.'

He clasped her hand. 'You have been through so much on my account. Too much.'

'What matters is to have your love.'

'You do have it. Never doubt that again. I'll spend the rest of my life showing you the truth of that.'

'Then we may yet found that dynasty.'

'If we do I hope our offspring will take after you, that they will possess your goodness and your generous spirit.'

'I hope they will have the courage and the integrity of their father.'

'Not so much integrity I fear.'                       
       
           



       

'You're wrong. You never lied to me or gave me false expectations.'

'Maybe not, but it still pains me when I think of some of the things I did say.'

She grinned. '"We may grow closer in affection."'

'Ouch! And that was probably one of my least offensive remarks. I only wish I could forget them.'

'I think you should. Focus on being Laird of Castlemora instead.'

'That title still sounds strange to me.'

'I can think of no one better fitted to fill the role.'

He kissed her hand. 'I shall strive to deserve it.'

'There will be much to set right I fear, but if anyone can do that it is you.'

'Your faith makes me feel proud. Your late honoured father will be a hard act to follow.'

'Your whole life has been leading to this,' she replied. 'It is what you were born to do.'

'Perhaps. All the same, it would have been a hollow crown if you had not been there to share it with me.'

'But I am here and I mean to stay.'

'That's just as well, my love, for I will never let you go.'

* * *

Since it was clear that their plans could not be implemented for some  weeks, Lord Iain sent a group of men ahead to hold Castlemora in the  interim. The news of Lady Isabelle's intended return was well received,  for Murdo's reign had been hated by the family retainers, and the  thought of the rightful heir being restored was pleasing to all  concerned. Thus Lord Iain's men were made welcome by the Castlemora  servants until their lady should return.

For Isabelle it couldn't come soon enough. While she was grateful for  the hospitality of Glengarron, the thought of living with Ban in their  own home was irresistible. As soon as she was up again she told him as  much. However, he refused to countenance a move just then.

'You are not fit enough yet, sweetheart.'

'It won't be long now. I am so much better already,' she replied. 'I left my sick bed days ago.'