The Laird's Captive Wife(62)

‘She’s a bonny lass and no mistake,’ said Duncan who was standing next to Iain by the fireplace, watching as Ashlynn and her brother talked with Jeannie and some cousins across the room. ‘You’ve done well for yourself there.’

‘I know it,’ replied Iain.

‘I like the brother too. He’s a brave lad if what you say is true.’

‘That he is.’

‘They’ve had a bad time, the pair of them.’

‘Aye, they have.’

‘The rumours are true then. William really is laying waste to Northumbria.’

‘It’s true all right. Heslingfield was only one of many manors to fall victim to his revenge.’

Duncan shook his head in disgust. ‘It’s indefensible to punish the innocent. The man’s a monster.’ He darted a glance across the room to Ban. ‘What is the lad going to do once he’s fully fit again?’

‘I don’t know. We’ve not discussed the matter as yet.’

‘Well, there’s time enough.’

‘So there is.’ Iain held out his cup to be refilled by a servant. ‘No doubt he’ll tell me his mind when he’s ready.’

His gaze returned to the group across the room, though in truth the only one he saw was Ashlynn. He was glad to see her developing friendship with his sister and gladder still to see her smile and laugh. Today she looked every inch the lady she was. As his eyes lingered on the curves of her slender figure now so enticingly revealed by the new gown, his mind dwelt tantalisingly on what lay beneath. He knew he wasn’t alone in his admiration; he had seen the way the eyes of other men were continually drawn back to her. It did not displease him. Let them look. None would dare to touch: she was his. The knowledge did nothing to diminish his pride.

* * *

The feast that evening was a splendid and sumptuous affair and the hall was filled with conversation and laughter. Iain, watching the succession of dishes appearing from the kitchen could not but be impressed. Once again Ashlynn’s ability to plan and organise surprised him. It was a facet of her personality he had not suspected. Watching her smiling and talking to their guests she looked every inch the lady of the manor. There was no trace now of the boyish imp or the wildcat and yet he knew both were still there. This unpredictability was, he reflected, part of her considerable charm. He never knew what facet might be revealed next and it both intrigued and fascinated him, arousing his curiosity and making him want to discover more.

Keenly aware of that apparently casual regard Ashlynn turned to meet his gaze and saw him smile.

‘An excellent feast,’ he said. ‘You have surpassed yourself.’

His words brought a glow of pleasure and she returned the smile. ‘You must thank the cook for it, not I.’

‘Had it not been for you I doubt we’d have seen anything like this. His imagination seemed not to run much beyond a haunch of venison or a side of mutton before this.’

‘I added a few ideas of my own.’

‘So I see, and I’m glad of it. This board would not disgrace a king.’He paused. ‘Where did you learn all this?’

‘Even Sassenach girls are brought up to know about the managing of a household, my lord.’

‘Who’d have thought it?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s no use. I shall not allow myself to be provoked.’

‘What a pity.’

‘I think you enjoy provoking people.’

‘Only where there’s such a strong element of unpredictability.’

Ashlynn laughed. ‘I hardly think that applies in this case for you know full well that I have a temper and one too easily roused.’

‘Not so. You were ever unpredictable, lass, but as to the rest, you never lost your temper without good cause.’

The quiet tone held no trace of levity and it caught her off balance for, while she felt perfectly capable of holding her own with him in any amount of verbal sparring, it was harder to know how to deal with this.

In the event she was saved the trouble because the musicians struck up and heralded the start of the dancing. Iain rose and held out his hand.

‘Will you honour me, my lady?’

Once again she was caught unawares. However, after a moment she gave him her hand and allowed him to lead her out. Soon the other couples formed around them. Dancing was not an activity she would have associated with him, but it soon became apparent that, for so tall a man, he moved with considerable grace.

‘Where did you learn to dance?’ she asked as the figure brought them together.

‘In France. In my aunt’s house it was de rigueur, just as it was for every page and squire to learn how to comport himself in company.’ He grinned. ‘Six months under her tutelage was enough to knock off the rough edges.’