The Laird's Captive Wife(4)

‘My lord, please…’

‘Enough. I am the head of this household and I shall be obeyed.’

If the tone had not been enough to convince her of the futility of further argument one look at that implacable expression was. Ashlynn turned on her heel and ran from the room, ignoring the exclamation that would have demanded her return. Half-blinded by angry tears she had no real idea of where she was going, only of a need to be alone for a while. In the event, her precipitate flight brought her to the stables and she slipped inside, pausing a moment on the threshold to look around. Mercifully the place was devoid of human company. Dashing the tears away with a shaking hand she made her way along the stalls until she came to Steorra’s. The chestnut mare heard her step and turned to look, whickering softly in recognition and presenting the white star on her forehead for which she was named. Ashlynn stroked the velvet muzzle for a moment or two. Then she buried her face in the horse’s mane and wept.

* * *

It was late when she returned to the hall. The evening meal was preparing though in truth she had little appetite for it. A group of people was gathered near the fire, among them her father and brothers. Ethelred was deep in conversation with his parent but Ban saw her come in and smiled. Then the smile faded a little and his eyes narrowed, taking in her altered appearance, for although she had sluiced her face with cold water before rejoining the company, her eyes were still suspiciously pink-rimmed, her face unwontedly pale. However, one warning glance held him silent and he merely watched as she turned away, extending her hands towards the blaze.

Letting the conversation wash around her Ashlynn kept her gaze on the fire, though in truth she saw nothing. All she could think of just then was being tied for life to a man she did not love, and being taken from her home and everything that was familiar to live in a distant place among strangers. Her father used the excuse of the troubled times but both of them knew it was more than that. Whenever he looked at her he saw her mother, the beloved wife he had lost just days after Ashlynn’s birth. Though he tried to hide his resentment afterwards he had never quite succeeded. With this marriage she would be gone and the reminders with her.

In due course they took their places at table but Ashlynn’s appetite had deserted her and she ate little. Around her the conversation continued, still very much focused on the political threat that hung like a pall over all their lives.

‘Will Heslingfield remain safe from the Conqueror’s anger?’ said Gytha.

Her sister-in-law’s voice penetrated Ashlynn’s consciousness and she glanced up, her attention caught in spite of her sombre mood.

‘We have done nothing to provoke it,’ Ban replied. The tone was even enough but Ashlynn detected the criticism beneath. Her brother had been much in favour of the rebellion and their father’s refusal to allow his kin any involvement had rankled with him. Lord Cyneric threw him a shrewd glance.

‘Be thankful for it.’ He frowned. ‘All the same we shall be ready to defend ourselves if the need arises.’

‘Against an army?’ replied Ethelred.

‘William will hold the city and use it as a base to consolidate his position as he has with York. Besides, the weather is on our side too. He will seek winter quarters for his men. We may perhaps see forays for food and supplies but little more, I think. We shall be secure enough until the spring.’

‘If William finds none to punish within the city he will look elsewhere. Heslingfield may not be as safe as you think, my lord.’

Lord Cyneric frowned but he did not immediately reply, pondering his son’s words. Though they did not always see eye to eye on every issue, Ashlynn knew her elder brother’s opinion carried weight with their father. At three and twenty Ethelred had much of the look of his parent, being tall and well made and with the tawny hair and blue eyes that were a family characteristic.

‘He is right, my lord.’ Ban threw his brother a swift glance. ‘It may not be safe to stay.’

‘The women should be moved to a place of safety,’ Ethelred went on, ‘though heaven knows those are precious few these days.’

‘We shall consider Gytha’s situation in due course,’ their father replied. ‘Ashlynn is to marry Burford at Yuletide. Her future safety is assured.’

The news fell like a thunderbolt and for several seconds there followed a deep silence in which all eyes went from Cyneric to his daughter. Ashlynn felt her face grow warm as resentment rose like a tide.

‘Ashlynn to wed Burford?’ said Ban. ‘Since when?’

She could hear disbelief in his tone. The same incredulity was registered in his face.