The Laird's Captive Wife by Joanna Fulford Read Free Book Online Page A

tell.’
    She nodded and blinked back treacherous tears. ‘They died trying to defend our home. Ethelred fell beside my father. I didn’t see Ban’s body and there was no time to look.’
    ‘How did the Normans find you?’
    ‘They had not gone far by the time I returned. When they saw me they gave chase. I thought they would kill me too at first but Fitzurse…Fitzurse had me taken to the barn and stripped. He meant to take his pleasure and afterwards let his men take theirs.’ She drew in another ragged breath remembering every detail of the ordeal at the Norman’s hands, the fear and the humiliation and the impending horror. The stranger was silent, waiting. Ashlynn’s gaze was on the ground and she missed the expression of pity and anger in his eyes. ‘Before he could do what he intended, your men arrived and launched their attack. In the confusion I tried to run away. The rest you know.’
    ‘Where were you heading before the Normans found you?’
    ‘North, over the border.’
    ‘You have kin there perhaps?’
    ‘No. I’d hoped to reach the court at Dunfermline and perhaps enter service there, but I didn’t exactly have time to make a detailed plan.’
    He did not miss the ironic edge to the tone but let it go.
    ‘The border country is wild and dangerous; too dangerous by far for a woman alone.’
    ‘There was no other choice.’
    ‘No, I suppose not.’ He paused. ‘You never told me your name.’
    ‘You never asked.’
    One dark brow lifted. ‘I’m asking now.’
    ‘Ashlynn.’
    ‘A pretty name and most apt, I find.’
    As he spoke he knew the words for truth. Dougal was right: most men would find her a welcome addition to their bed. Unbidden his mind went back to the scene by the river and relived it with startling clarity. He indulged the memory for a moment and then pushed it away. That kind of distraction had no place in his scheme of things.
    Unable to follow his thought and uneasy beneath that apparently dispassionate gaze Ashlynn forced herself to meet his eye.
    ‘You still have all the advantage.’
    ‘Aye, I believe I do.’
    ‘Is your identity such a closely guarded secret that I may not know it?’
    This time irony was underlain by a hint of impudence. Moreover, there was an expression in those blue eyes that was almost provocative as though she were testing the boundaries. It was tempting to show her just how close those were, but again he let it ride. His turn was coming.
    ‘No secret, my lady,’ he replied. ‘I am Iain McAlpin.’
    The name seemed strangely familiar somehow though it resisted precise identification. It niggled like a bad tooth. Earlier she had heard him say they would stay at Hexham that night. Where exactly? Surely no inn could cater for so large a party. Had he friends then who would give them shelter? His men called him lord. Lord of what? Where was Dark Mount? The missing pieces of the puzzle plagued her. Rather than labour over it she decided to ask. The answer was given readily enough.
    ‘Dark Mount is a fortress at the head of Glengarron.’
    ‘Glengarron!’
    ‘Aye.’
    She was suddenly very still as, in one moment of total comprehension, the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
    ‘You are the Laird of Glengarron?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    Ashlynn felt her stomach knot. In her relief at having escaped the hands of the Normans she had put herself into others every bit as dangerous, for who in the north of England had not heard of Glengarron or the man they dubbed Black Iain? It was small comfort to think she had no gold, nothing with which to trade for her freedom, in short nothing to tempt him at all. Then she remembered his earlier conversation with Dougal and her cheeks paled.
    ‘What are you going to do with me?’
    ‘I haven’t decided yet, but you’ll come with us as far as Jedborough at least.’
    ‘Jedborough?’
    ‘Aye, I’ve business there. When it’s concluded I’ll make my decision.’
    She drew in a deep breath and tried