hastened to the women’s bower by the back route. In her present state she dared not risk being seen. As she’d hoped the room was empty at this hour and having reached its safety she swiftly divested herself of the green gown, exchanging it for blue. Then she began to comb her hair into order. It was quite dry now and the auburn strands leapt beneath her fingers, fiery in the afternoon light. As she was engaged in this process Nell bustled in.
‘There you are, my lady. Wherever have you been?’
‘I went out riding.’
‘Alone again I’ll warrant.’
Nell gathered up the discarded gown. Plump and grey-haired, she was in her early fifties. Having known Isabelle since she was a baby, the older woman claimed the privileges of a trusted retainer. One of these was considerable freedom of speech. Nevertheless, she had a kindly nature and, despite an occasionally critical tongue, was also genuinely concerned. Seeing the younger woman’s guilty look now she shook her head.
‘You shouldn’t do it, my lady. In these lawless times it’s not safe. All manner of desperate rogues ride the border country and a woman alone would be easy prey.’
Recalling the events of the afternoon Isabelle shuddered inwardly. More than ever she was resolved not to ride out so far again. Only a fool would risk that twice. The desire for solitude must be balanced against the need for much greater caution.
‘I’m sorry, Nell. I promise to be more careful in future.’
The tone was genuinely contrite. Surprised that she did not even try to argue the point, Nell regarded her keenly for a moment. However, Isabelle was apparently absorbed in removing a tangle from her hair and thus avoided the knowing eye.
‘It were as well you did,’ the nurse went on. ‘Who knows what you might suffer at the hands of outlaws or marauders?’
Isabelle’s colour became a shade more pronounced and she concentrated harder on her task. Nell crossed the room towards her.
‘Here, best let me do it.’
She surrendered the comb and sat still while Nell took over, braiding the wilful mass into a thick plait and interweaving a ribbon to match the gown.
‘If Murdo finds out he’ll compel you to take an escort next time,’ Nell went on, ‘and you know fine well who it’ll be.’
‘I will not let him force his company on me in that way.’
‘Do you really think you’d be able to avoid it?’ The nurse paused. ‘His power is second only to your father’s now. No one dares to challenge his orders or his actions for fear of retribution. His thugs swagger about as though they own the place.’
‘I know, but things will change when Hugh is Laird of Castlemora.’
‘Your brother is full young. It remains to be seen whether he can be his own man. In the meantime it’s Murdo who will control Castlemora, make no mistake about that. His ambitions don’t stop there either.’ Nell paused. ‘His interest in you has not abated.’
‘I have none in him. He knows that.’
‘He has spoken on the matter?’
‘He has.’
Nell pursed her lips. ‘The brute grows bolder.’
‘I told him plainly that he could have no hope of me.’
‘He’s not a man who takes no for an answer.
The words were an uncanny echo of a former conversation, and Isabelle inwardly acknowledged their truth.
‘You must marry again and soon,’ Nell continued.
‘By that you mean Lord Ban.’
‘Who else?’
For a moment Isabelle saw the face of a stranger with tawny hair and blue eyes. Resolutely she tried to banish it, but it was not so easy when the memory of his kiss lingered on her lips. He had held her in his arms. He had seen her naked. Again she grew hot with shame. It was a mercy she would never see him again.
‘If you do not,’ Nell went on, ‘you may be compelled to wed Murdo later.’
It was the plain truth and Isabelle inwardly acknowledged it. The thought filled her with dread. ‘I’d rather take holy orders.’
‘That’s the other choice.’
‘I might as well be a bale of goods for all my opinion matters.’
‘A woman’s opinion never matters when it comes to marriage. You know that perfectly well.’
‘At one time my father would never have countenanced such a husband for me, even to please Glengarron.’
Her father received several offers for her hand before settling on Alistair Neil. Nor had she been averse to such a glittering match. Her bridegroom appeared to be all that a maiden could desire: handsome, brave, rich, courtly. Being young and naïve it never occurred to her to look deeper, until it was too late.
‘That was then,’ replied Nell. ‘Things are different now.’
‘If the Neils had returned my dowry this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘It was wrong of them to act so.’
‘Hugh wanted to go and get it back. I almost wish he had.’
‘It would have meant bloodshed and death. Is that what you really want?’
Isabelle sighed and shook her head. ‘I loathe the Neils for a pack of cold-hearted, rapacious thieves, but Castlemora doesn’t need a blood feud. Nor would I have my dowry returned with blood on it.’
‘Neither should you. No good could come of it.’ Nell tied off the heavy braid. ‘And if you’re wise you’ll not reject Lord Ban out of hand. He’s all that stands between you and Murdo.’
Isabelle repressed a shudder, yet the unspoken fear persisted that she might be jumping from the cooking pot into the fire. Would history repeat itself and Glengarron prove to be the mirror of Dunkeld; her prospective husband a brute like Alistair Neil? Even if he was not, there was still the matter of producing heirs. What if the fault had not been wholly with her late husband? What if she really was barren? A man could put his wife aside for such a reason. Perhaps the cloister might be her lot after all.
These gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the chamber door. Then a servant entered.
‘My lady, your father bade me tell you that the riders from Glengarron have arrived, and that your presence is required below.’
She took a deep breath and composed herself. ‘I will come directly.’
The servant bowed and withdrew. Isabelle rose from her seat, wondering if Lord Iain would be among the visitors. It had been many years since she had set eyes on him, not since she was a little girl, but she remembered the powerful charismatic figure very well. Now there was a man. Would Lord Ban be such another? Would he find her attractive? What if he
