‘How long have you been Laird of Glengarron?’
‘Five years.’
‘I thought it longer, coinciding with your return from France.’
‘I did not go back to Glengarron then.’ He paused. ‘I hired out my sword instead.’
‘But what of your wife? Was she not with you?’
‘Eloise died in France. I returned alone.’
Ashlynn heard the edge in his voice. Most like his wife had died in childbed or from fever. They were common enough occurrences after all. However, she sensed that this was not the time to delve further and dropped the subject, fearing to alienate him. Instead she shifted the focus of the discussion. ‘You hired out your sword to the king?’
‘Aye. Malcolm was ever one for recruiting able fighters and there was plenty to be done in his service,’ he went on. ‘It kept me occupied, until my father’s last illness. Then there was no choice but to return.’
‘You speak as though you were reluctant to do so.’
‘I was. My father and I were never close and, after my mother’s death, things got much worse. She had always smoothed things over between us but when she was gone…’ He made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Dark Mount was not a congenial place to be. I was only too glad to get away in the end.’
Though the words were quietly spoken Ashlynn heard the bitter note beneath. Heard it and identified with it in part.
‘Were you reconciled at last?’
‘No. He did not favour my support of Malcolm and it deepened the estrangement between us. I was with him at the end but by then he was too ill to speak. Yet I sensed he wanted to.’
‘That is something at least. Would that I might say the same.’
He regarded her curiously. ‘You quarrelled with your father?’
‘Not in that way.’
Iain waited, suddenly wanting to know.
Ashlynn smiled sadly. ‘My mother caught a fatal fever shortly after I was born. Her death was a terrible blow to him.’
‘I can understand that, but not that he should blame you for it.’
‘He tried hard not to, but never quite succeeded in hiding his thoughts. It was always there between us.’ She sighed. ‘I think it was why he wanted me to marry Ath—’ She broke off, conscious of having almost said too much. ‘Wanted me to marry,’ she amended. ‘In that way I’d be out of his sight for good.’
He noted the correction and wondered what she had been going to say. However, he knew better than to push her. A confidence could not be forced. He didn’t know why he had spoken to her of his father. It hadn’t been his intention, but somehow the words had come out anyway. Perhaps it was no bad thing. Certainly the tension of the previous evening was conspicuous by its absence.
* * *
Ashlynn retired a little later leaving the men to drink. Having returned to her room she undressed, laying her garments carefully aside. Once again their ugliness impressed itself on her mind. It was not a problem that would be easily solved since she had no money to buy cloth and thread, even if she knew where these things might be procured locally. The thought of asking Iain for money was anathema. Self-respect forbade it. Clearly he saw nothing amiss with the present arrangement and if he did not, she would not raise the subject. If anyone else found it a matter for remark, that was just too bad. Fine clothes were only a form of vanity when all was said and done, and yet she missed them all the same. They were something else she had taken for granted, like looking attractive. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did, especially now. Iain’s face drifted into her mind. Even if she were appropriately gowned would it make any difference there? Would he ever look at her in the way he had once looked on Eloise? Would she ever be able to influence his thoughts? Somehow she couldn’t see it happening any time soon. The knowledge of her powerlessness was oddly lowering. With a sigh she climbed into bed and burrowed under the furs for warmth.
However, sleep would not come and for a long time she lay awake listening to the sound of the wind in the chimney. She shivered, thinking how different it was from her chamber at Heslingfield. Thoughts of home revived the faces of her family and suddenly a lump formed in her throat. The last time she felt like this she had been in a hayloft and Iain had comforted her. The memory of his arms around her then only served to enhance her loneliness now. She tried to check it, to force the lump back again but it resisted every attempt and grew bigger, swelling in size until it threatened to choke her. Turning her face into the pelts she began to sob as though her heart would break.
* * *
Iain left his men carousing and made his way up the stairs. Truth to tell he was in no mood to drink for his mind was elsewhere. Ashlynn’s appearance at table that evening had served as a sharp reminder that his life had changed. While he had no quarrel with her presence, he had not lied when he had said it was unexpected—unexpected and oddly impressive in its quiet dignity. It could not have been easy for her. Nor could it be easy adjusting to her new life at Dark Mount. Though she never spoke of it he sensed her homesickness. Worse, it was something that he could do nothing to change. Heslingfield was gone for good. Only one small hope remained in that direction.