His Lady of Castlemora. Joanna Fulford

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His Lady of Castlemora - Joanna Fulford Mills & Boon Historical

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and quiet.

      Holding her mount to a steady pace she followed the burn until it widened out into a pool beneath a stand of trees. Although it was just within the bounds of Castlemora land it was a secluded place and, ordinarily, she would not have come here alone. If Murdo ever found out, the fat would be in the fire. Over the years the master-at-arms had evolved a highly efficient system of intelligence. Almost nothing happened at Castlemora without him knowing. The hunt was a fortunate distraction.

      Isabelle dismounted and tethered her horse. The sun was high now and the day hot. Her clothing was sticking to her back and the water looked inviting. She glanced around but the land was still; there was no sign of human presence as far as the eye could see. The temptation grew stronger. It ought to be safe enough for a while at least.

      Ban smiled and leaned back against the tree, glad to be out of the saddle for a while. He and his companions had been riding since early morning, albeit at an easy pace to spare the horses. Their mounts were dozing in the shade while the men, having partaken of bread and cheese and slabs of dried meat, stretched out awhile at their ease. A little way off among the trees Davy stood watch. For all that the country seemed peaceful it never paid to be complacent. Ban had learned that through long experience. For five years he had ridden with Black Iain of Glengarron, watching, learning, training, his body growing hard and lean and strong, his mind sharp and focused. The stripling youth who had been saved after the destruction of Heslingfield was long gone and in his place the man, now a respected warrior in his own right. Being Iain’s brother-in-law had won him no favours. Ban was expected to prove himself like all the rest. He applied himself wholeheartedly, for by concentrating on the new life he could forget the old. Here the past mattered not. He was judged by what he did now. Though he was treated with civility enough by his companions he knew they watched him, judged him. It had been a matter of pride to be found worthy, to win their trust and acceptance.

      He glanced across at his companions: Ewan, Jock and Davy, good men all, men he trusted at his back in a fight. They would stand by him as he would by them. They had been through enough adventures together to know it. Not that he expected to do any fighting in the near future. Delivering some horses to an old friend was hardly likely to be fraught with peril. He did it as a favour to Iain. Of the other, more personal, matter he had said nothing to his men. After all, he had not positively decided yet; could not decide until he knew more. A few days at Castlemora would doubtless clarify matters.

      Unbidden his mind returned to the conversation a week earlier. He was playing in the courtyard with his young nephews when Iain appeared on the scene. For a while Iain watched the boisterous game, an indulgent smile hovering on his lips. When eventually they stopped for breath he dismissed the two children with the intelligence that he wanted private speech with their uncle.

      ‘Is anything wrong?’ asked Ban when the youngsters had gone.

       ‘No, ‘twas merely that I would ask a favour.’

       ‘What kind of favour?’

       ‘I need someone to deliver some horses to Castlemora. Archibald Graham asked me for some good breeding stock a while ago. I told him I’d look out for some likely animals.’

       ‘The brood mares from Jarrow by any chance?’

       ‘The same.’

      Ban nodded. They were fine animals. However, it wasn’t a challenging undertaking and any of Iain’s men could have delivered them, so why was he being singled out for the task? As so often he sensed there was more here than appeared on the surface.

      ‘Would you mind?’ Iain’s tone was casual. That more than anything else set off alarms in Ban’s brain and he couldn’t help but smile.

      ‘Of course not.’ The assertion was sincere. Castlemora was no more than two days’ ride and the weather fine. Besides, he owed his brother-in-law a great deal and was glad to return a favour when he could.

       ‘Good.’

      Ban waited certain now that there must be more to come. He was right, though he could never have guessed its import.

       ‘The journey may be made to serve two ends,’ Iain continued. ‘Archibald Graham is an old friend and ally but, sadly, his health is failing.’

       ‘I am sorry to hear it.’

       ‘He has a daughter. The last time I saw her she was a child, but she must be eighteen or thereabouts by now. She was widowed a while back and he seeks a new husband for her.’

      Ban’s expression grew more guarded. When he’d guessed at some ulterior motive he could never have suspected anything like this. Yet it was typical of Iain that he should, with such unruffled ease, let drop some small but incendiary piece of information.

       ‘By that you mean me?’

       ‘Not at all,’ was the imperturbable reply. ‘I merely suggest you should go and take a look.’

       ‘She’s a widow so there will be children as well, Iain.’

       ‘Apparently not.’

       Ban raised an eyebrow. ‘Not?’

       ‘She was married but a year, and the mortality rate among infants is high.’

      ‘As you say.’ Although he didn’t pursue it, the matter still left a question in Ban’s mind.

       ‘The woman is reputed fair and, being Graham’s daughter, will have a handsome dowry to boot.’

       ‘Better and better. And of course I am five and twenty and single yet.’ Ban paused. ‘Did my sister put you up to this?’

       ‘No, though I know she would like to see you settled.’

       ‘She told you that?’

       ‘She may have mentioned it once or twice.’

       ‘An understatement if ever I heard one. She has been matchmaking these last five years.’

       ‘Aye, well, what do you expect? You’re her only brother.’

       ‘And being the last surviving male of the family I must get an heir.’

       ‘Have you any objections to marriage?’

       Ban shook his head. ‘None—in principle.’

      It was true as far as it went. The idea of marriage did not displease him. It was a necessary step in a man’s life, a responsibility that must be undertaken to ensure that his name and his line continued. The woman should be compliant and, ideally, pleasing to look upon although, as he knew to his cost, beauty was no guarantee of a warm and generous heart.

       His brother-in-law nodded. ‘Well then.’

      Considered dispassionately, Ban knew the scheme made sense. All the same

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