‘It is a thriving community,’ she said when at length they paused on the threshold of the barn. ‘You seem to have everything here you are likely to need.’
‘Almost,’ he agreed, ‘but ’tis as well to be prepared for every eventuality.’
‘And are you?’
‘Mostly.’
She looked around, her comprehensive gaze taking in the neat stacks of sacks and barrels, the harness and coiled ropes. Then, seeing the items in the far corner, she raised an eyebrow.
‘Sledges?’
‘Very useful for transporting supplies in the snow.’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’
He smiled faintly. ‘I try not to be caught napping.’
‘I have no doubt of that. Has Dark Mount ever come under attack?’
‘Aye, in the past. But no enemy has ever prevailed.’
‘Do you have enemies?’
‘Few living, and only one of any consequence.’
‘Fitzurse,’ she replied.
‘Aye, he. And one day I’ll find him.’
The words had been spoken casually enough but a great deal more lay behind. However, remembering his earlier response Ashlynn didn’t dare to question him further. He was not a man to cross lightly. His earlier treatment of her had demonstrated as much, though with hindsight it had also shown considerable restraint. While he was not given to fits of fury she knew instinctively that his anger once roused would be doubly dangerous. Throwing a covert glance at her husband now it was hard to imagine the battle rage on that calm face, and yet she knew it concealed passions that ran deep: a passion for war and a passion for revenge. The ghosts of the past haunted the living. Recalling that snowy field littered with corpses she shivered inwardly.
* * *
That evening she ventured down to the hall, knowing that the intimate arrangement of the previous evening would not be repeated. Part of her was glad and another part daunted. From what she had seen of the place, it was clear that dining in the hall was unlikely to be a comfortable experience. Besides, it was a masculine domain and she had not been bidden there. Iain had issued no positive invitation to join him, nor had he said that she should not. Their encounter earlier had been amicable enough but would he welcome her presence in an all-male preserve? If he rejected her how would she deal with the humiliation? For some time she hesitated. Then summoning all her courage she went down.
When she arrived Iain was already there along with many of his men. Ashlynn paused in the doorway surveying the scene, her heart beating a little faster, conscious of being the only woman present. On the other hand was she not the lady of the house now? At that recollection her chin lifted and she crossed the floor to join her husband.
As the men became aware of her presence their conversation died and all eyes followed her progress. Under their keen regard her discomfort increased. Iain looked round and for a moment he seemed surprised to see her there. Her heartbeat accelerated. Was he annoyed? Would he see this as an intrusion and send her away?
However, it seemed that was not his intent. He rose and taking her hand, conducted her to the chair next to his. She sank into it thankfully. Around them the conversation started up again.
‘This is an unexpected honour,’ he said.
She inclined her head in acknowledgement while he gestured to a servant to fill her cup.
‘I thought you might prefer your room.’
‘Hardly,’ she replied.
Recalling the somewhat austere nature of that chamber he winced inwardly.
‘In any case,’ she went on, ‘is it not fitting that we should dine together?’
‘Aye, I suppose it is.’
Ashlynn took a sip of wine, very much alive to that steady regard. What was he thinking when he looked at her? Was he remembering that other marriage, the one he had entered into for love? At least he had not humiliated her before his men and that was something. Iain made no further remark on the matter and then the food arrived, diverting his attention and apparently obviating the need for conversation. Taking her cue from him she addressed herself to the meal.
The other men ignored her for the most part, though she was aware that one or two covert glances came her way. Ashlynn looked ruefully at her humble makeshift attire. It was hardly the dress of a noblewoman. However, by accepting her presence here this evening and seating her beside him, Iain had tacitly established her position. She was not Eloise but she was his lady now and they would accept her as such. It was a small step but a significant one. Her back straightened. She might not look the part but she could at least act it.
* * *
It was not until they had finished eating that Iain turned his attention towards her again. She had begun to wonder if he had forgotten about her. Being used to conversation and friendly banter at table she found this silence awkward and a little unnerving. When he picked up the wine flagon and gestured to her cup she nodded, conscious of surprise. He wasn’t dismissing her just yet then. Perhaps they might talk a little. Their earlier conversations had whetted her curiosity and so much about this man was still a mystery. Summoning her courage again she put a toe in the water.