‘I’ve been a fool. Forgive me, Ashlynn.’
Even as he spoke he realised that fool was an understatement; he should have listened to his inner doubts and told her long since. By seeking to spare her pain he had caused her far more. What he had never anticipated was how much her tears would hurt him.
She drew in another shaky breath, searching for the words, but emotion locked her voice in her throat as reaction set in. Her head swam. A strong arm caught her by the waist as she slumped, and another went under her knees, lifting her effortlessly. Then he carried her back upstairs and set her down gently in a chair by the fire. Frowning to see her pallor he put his own cloak around her and then poured some spiced wine, heating it with an iron from the fire, before handing her the cup.
‘Drink this.’
Obediently she took it. He watched her sip the hot liquid and with no small relief saw some of the colour return to her cheeks.
‘That’s better.’ Satisfied that she was recovering a little, he poured some wine for himself and pulled up a chair beside her.
Becoming properly aware of her surroundings for the first time Ashlynn realised with a start that they were in his room, the chamber where they had dined together on their first evening at Dark Mount. It aroused some mixed feelings. Iain, watching her closely, guessed at it. Her nerves were raw enough already before this morning’s nerve-shattering discovery.
‘I’d hoped to cheer you with the news but I see now the shock was too sudden. I should have prepared you for it first,’ he said.
‘It was a shock,’ she agreed, ‘but, as Meg said, the right kind at least. It was just a little overwhelming coming so soon after…after everything else.’
Iain’s jaw tightened, thinking that the ‘everything else’ to which she referred had been a fearful load for anyone to bear, let alone a fragile girl.
‘I had no wish to be the cause of further tears in you, Ashlynn.’
‘I know that now. It was just the discovery that I hadn’t lost everyone after all.’ She paused. ‘Ban and I were always close. He is only a year older than I am.’
‘He has the look of you too.’
‘The hair and the eyes,’ she agreed. ‘A family trait.’
‘He’s a good-looking youth, and a brave one I’m thinking.’
‘He was always thus. Nothing would ever stop Ban when he had it in mind to do something, no matter how reckless or how dangerous.’
‘And you were right beside him or I miss my guess.’
It drew a faint smile and he saw the blue eyes soften as she looked into the fire. He wondered what she was remembering. There was so much he wanted to know but still he would not try and force her confidence. She was wary of him and with good reason. Accordingly he kept silent and waited.
‘We had so many adventures as children, often to our father’s grave displeasure. It didn’t stop us though. The risk seemed worth the thrashing somehow. We had our share of those for though our father was not a cruel man he was strict. There were limits to what he would tolerate.’
‘And you pushed those limits.’
‘Often. And many times we got away with it. My father said I was a hoyden and that I needed—’ She broke off and her cheeks reddened a little.
‘Needed what?’
Ashlynn shook her head.
He wondered what she had been about to say but let it go, being unwilling to stop her in this expansive mood. He poured more wine into her cup.
She drank it down and felt its pleasing warmth spread through her. Once she glanced covertly at the man beside her for she recalled all too well what her father had once said in a fit of exasperation: ‘You need breaking to bridle, my girl, and somewhere is the man to do it. You need a husband and one with a firm hand too.’ Would he be amused to know that the prediction had come true, in part at least? Perhaps so, but never would he have dreamed to see her wed to the Laird of Glengarron.
‘My father and older brother fought at Hastings,’ she went on. ‘When the battle was lost they managed to escape and return home. Both my brothers dreamed that one day the Norman tyrant would be overthrown but my father called it a foolish dream. He said they were there to stay. He would not permit Ethelred or Ban to have any part in the rising against de Comyn’s men.’ She paused. ‘Perhaps he should have. At least then Heslingfield would have burned for a reason.’
Iain caught the note of unwonted bitterness in her voice but he could not blame her.
‘Innocence or guilt matter not to the Normans,’ he replied. ‘What happened at Heslingfield is being repeated all across the land ’twixt York and Durham. The Conqueror means to crush Northumbria into the dust.’