Joanna Fulford by His Lady of Castlemora Read Free Book Online

to her lips. It would be impossible to get out of this without causing her father’s displeasure, for he would take it much amiss that she snubbed one who was both guest and prospective suitor.
    ‘Of course,’ she replied.
    ‘Then I suggest we leave early before the day grows hot,’ said Hugh.
    Ban smiled. ‘A good suggestion.’
    He bowed over her hand, brushing it with his lips, holding it for just a moment longer than was necessary. The warmth of his touch sent a tingle along her skin. Feigning calm she turned away and then took her leave of them all.
    * * *
    On returning to the bower Isabelle found herself in no mood for sleep and, dismissing Nell, went to the window. The evening was still and scented with warm earth and cut grass. Some light yet lingered in the western sky, the horizon soft with lemon haze beneath the deepening blue where the first stars shone clear. Bats flitted among the orchard trees and somewhere a dog barked. Then the silence dropped again. The sweet air that was usually so soothing now only added to her feeling of desolation.
    She could well visualise the scene in the hall. On the surface all would be smiles and goodwill. Lord Ban would not offend her father intentionally; the friendship existing between Castlemora and Glengarron was too valuable to risk. He would handle the matter more tactfully: the horses would provide the means for all to save face. He had come to deliver them and, having fulfilled the obligation, he would depart without ever making an offer for her hand. Tears pricked her eyelids and for perhaps the tenth time that evening she silently cursed her own stupidity.

Chapter Four
    I f she had entertained any hopes that his lordship might oversleep next morning, Isabelle was disappointed for when she neared the stables he was already there, the horses saddled and ready. Hugh was with him and, she noted with disfavour, so was Murdo. Seeing her approach they turned towards her, causing Ban to look round. He greeted her with a smile. Somehow she managed to reply with the usual courtesies. Then her gaze went to the horses.
    ‘You are before me, my lord. I hope I have not kept you waiting.’
    ‘Not at all. You are prompt.’
    To avoid the searching gaze she moved towards the bay mare, stroking the velvety muzzle and running a practised eye over bridle and saddle, satisfying herself that it was in good order.
    ‘Allow me.’
    Lord Ban came to the mare’s near side and held the bridle while she mounted. Once she was safely ensconced a strong hand slid her foot into the stirrup, lingering briefly on her ankle. Only too conscious of his touch, she avoided his eye and occupied herself with the arrangement of her skirt.
    He left her then and went to mount his own horse, a powerful and mettlesome chestnut which he reined in alongside her a few moments later. Murdo and Hugh fell in behind leaving Lord Ban’s men to follow at a respectful distance.
    ‘Quite an escort,’ she remarked. ‘Are you expecting trouble, my lord?’
    ‘A precaution only. It is unwise to ride alone in these troubled times.’
    Isabelle reddened and threw him a sideways glance but his face gave nothing away. Even so the rebuke had been plain. He wasn’t going to let her forget about what had happened. The knowledge that she deserved it didn’t help. However, she would not rise to the bait and touching the horse with her heels cantered on ahead.
    The mare had a smooth even gait and a soft mouth that responded to the lightest touch of the rein. A long open stretch of turf beckoned and she gave her mount its head. Immediately the spirited creature leapt forwards, flying hooves skimming the ground, mane and tail streaming. Revelling in the speed neither horse nor rider paid heed to the thudding hoofbeats behind. The chestnut drew level and catching a glimpse of its rider’s anxious expression, Isabelle raised an eyebrow. So he thought she was out of control, did he? His lordship made a good many assumptions