chin in silent defiance even though, inwardly, she regretted letting her temper get the better of her. She knew she had annoyed him and that it behoved her to be more careful; Murdo was not possessed of a forgiving nature and it didn’t pay to cross him.
Ban had observed that brief exchange and felt his curiosity stir. The tension between the two was evident. He wondered what lay behind it. Apart from a brief introduction he’d had little to do with the man thus far, but Ban was fully aware of his presence none the less. From the seating arrangements at the table the previous evening it was apparent that Murdo enjoyed a privileged position in the household, as though he were a member of the family rather than a servant. However, such things were not uncommon. A rich household might well take in poorer relations and find a place for them. In this instance an influential place, he thought, but then a capable man who worked hard might do much to better himself.
He had no doubt whatever that the master-at-arms was capable; he’d met too many fighting men not to recognise the trait. In combat Murdo would be ruthless and deadly. He was also a natural leader. To judge from the way his men acted around him he evidently commanded their respect, no mean feat when the men themselves were hardened mercenaries. Castlemora’s reputation had been well earned. Perhaps too Murdo saw it as part of his role to be protective of Lady Isabelle even if she did resent it as interference. That would explain much. The more Ban thought about it, the likelier it seemed.
Before he could dwell further on the matter the party set off again, albeit at a more sober pace, and the conversation turned to other things. Isabelle didn’t speak to the master-at-arms again or even look in his direction, and the remainder of the ride passed without incident.
* * *
When, about an hour later, they returned to Castlemora, Archibald Graham came out to meet them. Then he looked quizzically at Isabelle.
‘Well, how did the mare go?’
‘Very well, Father. She has speed and stamina as we thought.’
‘Good. Perhaps you will find the time to ride the others.’
She returned a non-committal smile and dismounted. Lord Ban followed suit and came to join them. Standing so close to him now she was forcefully reminded just how much taller he was and how strong. Thence it was but a short step to recalling their first meeting. The memory burned. Glancing up she saw him smile as though he somehow divined her thought. Of course, that was impossible. Even so, her face, pink before from the fresh air, became a much deeper shade.
Apparently unaware of her discomfiture her father turned to Ban. ‘I trust you enjoyed your ride, my lord.’
‘Very much, sir.’ He looked at Isabelle. ‘Who would not in such company?’
Her father beamed. Isabelle thought he’d look a lot less gratified if he knew the truth. They made their way indoors for the sun was hot and the cooler air of the hall was a welcome contrast. Graham bade the servants fetch refreshment and then poured the ale with his own hands before offering his guest a cup.
‘It is most pleasant to have company again.’
‘You are kind,’ said Ban. ‘In truth Castlemora is a most delightful spot.’
‘Thank you.’ Graham clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I am glad you think so. I trust you will not find our hospitality lacking.’
‘I am sure I shall not. One day I hope to have the honour of returning it.’
‘If my health were better I’d like nothing more.’ Graham threw him a wry smile. ‘However, this hot weather is most tiring I find. It only seems to aggravate my condition.’
‘I am sorry to hear it.’
‘Never mind, I have strength enough to show you round Castlemora, if you would like it.’
Ban regarded him in concern. ‘I beg you will not over-exert yourself, my lord.’
‘No such thing,’ replied the other. ‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Then I thank you.’
Isabelle’s heart sank