Chapter Ten

After a miserable ride under dark skies, the stern grey walls of Kransmuir Fell rose from the rugged land. The drawbridge squealed open like the gates of hell, and Rowenna’s heart sank. She had expected a stronghold, but this was far larger than Fallstairs. Jasper’s home was a castle - daunting and impossible to escape. The thick, dark woodland breathing down its neck gave it an ominous feel. What horrors lurked in the trees or inside, for that matter? The Glendennings had so much more power than the MacCreadies, and they could squash her like a gnat if they chose.

Jasper had ridden at the head of his men, with her bringing up the rear with his man, Randel. Though he looked like a dumb brute, he was surprisingly affable and cheerful, and there was pity in his smile. Thankfully, he had little conversation, for Rowenna was in too great a turmoil to talk.

As they clattered into the yard, folk came running to help with the horses and greeted the men warmly, but not her. They stared and pointed, and one or two gasped and whispered behind their hands. Was she so shocking a sight? Then it occurred to Rowenna that they might think her Jasper’s whore, and her face took flame.

Jasper came over and plucked her off her horse. ‘What do you think of my home, Rowenna?’ he said with a smile.

‘It is a good enough prison.’ One more appeal to his mercy might work. ‘Can you not let me go? Bran will never find the money to pay your debt or admit to wrongdoing.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he is a coward who cannot face you.’

‘Then your stay at Kransmuir will be of some duration. It will give you time to warm to me, Rowenna.’

‘Does the prisoner warm to the jailor?’

He laughed. ‘Depends on the jailor and his powers of persuasion.’

She looked away from Jasper’s intense gaze. ‘I will never warm to you.’

‘We will see. I am a patient man. And Rowenna, you threw yourself into my path, coming in search of your sister. If you are being taken, then the blame lies with you.’

‘I did not throw myself at you. And you should have taken my brother. He is responsible for slighting you.’

‘Aye, but if I kill him or lock him up, how will he get me my money? Besides, I don’t want your brother. I want you.’

She dared to look at him, and there was something hungry about his expression.

‘Want me?’ she croaked.

Jasper brought his face in close. ‘Aye, want, lass.’ Then he put his hand on her waist and brought her up against him. Rowenna did not give him the satisfaction of fighting him. She made herself a statue in his embrace as his lips touched hers.

‘Jasper! You are wanted in the hall.’

Randel’s voice echoed across the yard, and Jasper looked around him as if he suddenly realised they were the object of much interest. His hand fell away from her waist, and he took her hand and dragged her into the bowels of Kransmuir.

***

Jasper strode into his hall to find his mother and sisters before the hearth. They had company. Seated at a table, drinking ale, was an old adversary and sometimes ally, Fraser Beattie. A lass stood beside him. She was skinny and plain, and therefore, beneath his notice.

They all rose, and his mother caught sight of Rowenna and narrowed her eyes. Glenna gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

‘I did not know we were to have company,’ said Jasper, swallowing irritation. He wanted to get Rowenna alone, not explain himself to this company of fools.

Fraser rose and bowed, eyes flicking to Rowenna. ‘Ah, Glendenning. I was hoping you would return. I have come on business, accompanied by my daughter, Emiline. I do not believe you have ever met, for she has been educated at a convent in Edinburgh.’

The lass stared at him with wide eyes as if he were a fearsome bear coming to devour her. Emiline’s voice quavered as she said, ‘Tis an honour to meet you, Laird Glendenning.’

Jasper doubted that very much but gave a curt bow in return.

‘And it seems we have another guest this day,’ said Glenna spitefully, looking Rowenna up and down.

‘I am no guest. I am a prisoner,’ spat Rowenna.

Emiline looked stricken and turned to her father. Maeve giggled.

Jasper tightened his grip on Rowenna’s hand. ‘This is Rowenna MacCreadie. She is to stay with us for a while as surety for her brother’s debt to me. She will be making herself useful, so use her how you wish, Mother.’

‘Will you do the same, brother?’ sneered Glenna, who received a glare from her mother.

‘He will not,’ snarled Rowenna, trying to tear out of his grip.

‘She’s a little insolent for a servant, is she not?’ sputtered Fraser.

‘I am as I should be, and what is it to you?’ replied the lass.

‘You will bite your tongue in my hall, chit, or I will rip it out,’ shouted his mother.

‘You will do no such thing,’ growled Jasper. ‘Rowenna is under my command, not yours.’

Fraser took his daughter’s hand. ‘It seems we have visited at an unfortunate time. Come, Emiline. We are leaving.’

Once they had departed, a tense silence fell. Jasper glanced at Rowenna who was outstaring his mother. He sensed a fight brewing and tried to head it off.

‘Did you really think that frightened rabbit of a lass would interest me?’ he said to his mother.

‘I will not have you speak ill of that lass while you have your hands all over this…this…creature.’

‘Have you had your say, Mother?’ he spat.

She jabbed a finger at Rowenna. ‘I know what she is, and you have offended Fraser Beattie most grievously.’

‘I sincerely hope so. That man is a craven toad, not fit to lick my boots, and I’ll not join my bloodline with his.’

‘And you’ll not bring a whore into my hall,’ shouted Joan Glendenning.

‘I am not his whore, nor will I ever be,’ said Rowenna. ‘I have been dragged from my home and brought here against my wishes over a debt. I do not want to be here. I want to go home.’

She tried to twist her hand from his grasp, but Jasper would not let her.

His mother marched up to Rowenna. ‘The debt is not why you are here, you ignorant chit. He brought you here because you look just like…’

‘Enough,’ bellowed Jasper. ‘We will talk of this alone.’

‘Very well,’ said Joan, with a look of triumph.

‘I will take Rowenna to a chamber and return.’

‘I suppose that might take some time,’ sneered Glenna.

Jasper turned on his heel and marched out.

Rowenna tried to get free, but Jasper’s grip was vice-like. Everything about him screamed anger, and it had come on like a sudden storm, with terrifying intensity.

‘You are hurting me,’ she cried.

‘You deserve it. Why could you not hold your tongue?’

‘Why should I?’

‘Did I not tell you to please me if you know what’s good for you?’

Please him? As they marched deeper into Kransmuir and up a winding staircase, higher and higher, Rowenna’s fate crashed in on her. Would he take her virginity now, in a fit of anger, in a chamber far away from the rest of the castle, where no one would hear her scream for mercy?

They reached a doorway, and Jasper flung it open, making it crash against the wall. He thrust Rowenna inside, slammed the door shut, and leant against it. She scuttled to the other side of the chamber, never taking her eyes off him.

‘I want to go home, Laird Glendenning.’

‘Tis no home. ‘Tis a rat’s nest. And my name is Jasper, and you will use it.’

‘Please let me go, Jasper.’ She spat his name at him.

‘I cannot.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘We are to be handfasted.’

‘What?’

‘I agreed with your father that you would remain here for a year, and if you get with child, the union will be permanent, and you will be my wife before God.’

Rowenna backed away, her heart thumping. ‘You are lying. My father would not do that.’

He strode up to her, trapping her in a corner. ‘Of course, he would. I told him to name his price, and he agreed all too readily, seeing as I scared away your other suitor. You will find I am a much better prospect than some cold-fingered old man who is an inch away from the grave. I have a great deal more vigour, and so I anticipate a fruitful union between us, Rowenna.’

She shook her head. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because I want you, though I think we must burn this rag you are wearing,’ he said, taking hold of her skirt between his thumb and finger.

She tore it from his grasp. ‘You can have any number of wealthy lasses who would be happy to have you, like that one in the hall in her fine silk dress.’

He snorted. ‘I doubt Emeline could ever raise my ardour no matter what she was wearing, but you could set a fire in my belly wearing a sack. Here it is, lass. I don’t want anyone but you.’

‘So you just take what you want, with no mind to my feelings.’

‘Aye, for you are safe here, better off. You will have a comfortable home and protection.’

‘That is no comfort when I will have to suffer you.’

Her words hit their mark, and Jasper’s face changed from smug to disappointed. Then he recovered himself, and cold indifference took its place.

‘Maybe you should not have thrown yourself in my path and led me on with affection you did not feel.’

‘I showed no affection beyond making you welcome, and my father told me our lives depended on that. And I only sought you out for news of my sister because you are cruel enough to take her.’

He sighed. ‘I swear, I did not, on my life. And just think of all the men I can send out looking for your sister if you are nice to me.’

‘No.’

His jaw set in an angry line. ‘Well, we are here now, so we had better make the best of it. You have gained status as my wife, and I have gained a bonnie lass to warm my bed and provide me with a son. A fair trade, I would say, and a good day’s work.’

‘I would rather die than share your bed.’

He gave a bitter laugh. ‘I doubt it will come to that, and there are worse fates than I, lass. Or would you prefer Wymon Carruthers climbing on top of you?’

‘Oh, don’t pretend you are rescuing me from him. You are only following your own selfish whims.’

Almost nonchalantly, he picked at a nail, but Rowenna sensed a dam of anger he was holding back. ‘I can’t argue with that. Tell me, lass. What do you know of me?’

‘You have a bad reputation. Some say you are a monster.’

‘Aye, but I am a monster of considerable means and power. You would do well to remember that. What else?’

‘I hear you are utterly ruthless in pursuing land and power.’

‘Finally, you find a virtue in me.’

‘It is not a virtue to be ruthless.’

‘It is in the Marches if survival is your goal and you have people to protect.’ Jasper frowned. ‘And you do want to survive, don’t you? You want your clan to survive, or are you happy to sacrifice them to a woman’s whim?’

‘I have always done right by my family, however distasteful it is.’

‘Distasteful is it? Am I that hideous?’

‘What’s on the outside doesn’t matter.’

‘You look very well on the outside, and that is what matters to me.’

Rowenna took a deep breath. ‘Aye, for you are not capable of love, are you?’

‘How can you know that?’

‘You did not love your wife. Folk say you married her for money and land, which makes you heartless.’

Jasper gave her a flinty look. ‘My wife was as heartless as I, make no mistake. And I am not marrying you for money or land. Perhaps I have soft feelings for you, a certain tenderness.’

His face changed, and Rowenna saw vulnerability there, and she almost believed it. She was struck anew by the beauty of his eyes when they were not blazing in anger. But Jasper Glendenning was changeable, and every word out of his mouth was a lie.

‘Do not talk of tenderness. You are a bully who cares nought for the feelings of others,’ she hissed.

He grabbed hold of her and flung her onto the bed. His weight pressed down on her as he pinned her arms.

‘Perhaps you would do well to remember what a bully I am, lass.’ As she struggled, he softened his grip, his mouth inches from hers. Would he kiss her again? He looked as if he wanted to.

‘Get your hands off me,’ she squealed. ‘I’ll not have you, Jasper Glendenning.’

‘I’ll not have a defiant wife.’

‘Then choose another.’

‘No. I choose you, lass, for you have cursed me with a terrible need. And remember that your father and brother must be punished for their disrespect.’

‘Punished? I am no loss to my father.’

He frowned. ‘Why not? You are bonnie.’ He seized her hand. It was rough and red, and she was ashamed. ‘He works you hard, I see. Why would he not feel your loss?’

‘He does not value women.’

‘I do,’ said Jasper, with all sorts of implications she did not want to think about.

Silence fell. Jasper’s heavy breathing filled Rowenna’s senses, and his blue glare duelled with hers. A vein pulsed in his temple. Morag’s words filled her head. ‘Bring him on, then repel him. It will give you power over a man.’

But she had no power as Jasper brought his lips to her and kissed her with surprising tenderness. His stubble rasped against her skin, and it was so male, so strange. Jasper groaned into her mouth, lifting his weight onto his elbows, but Rowenna could still feel the iron bar of his arousal through his braies, pressing into her soft parts. His mouth was warm, and his hair smelled of pine and wood smoke as if he had lain in the woods overnight.

Rowenna lost her mind, her thoughts whirling away from her under his touch, scorched by his mouth and the overwhelming force of his desire as he eased her legs apart with his knee, laying her open. Her limbs were frozen. She had never felt so helpless. Why could she not fight this man? Even when he released his grip on her arms, she did nothing. His hands roamed all over her, but it was as if she floated above her body, looking down on her own violation.

‘You taste so sweet, Rowenna. I am on fire for you, lass,’ he breathed.

‘Please. You should not,’ she whimpered.

‘Not go on, or not stop?’ he breathed.

Her words died in her throat.

‘Forgive me. I cannot help but touch you.’ Jasper buried his face in her hair and sucked in the scent like a dog. ‘God, I have such a need for you.’ His breathing quickened as he kissed her desperately, frantically, and then he paused. ‘If you tell me to stop, I will, lass, but I would be gentle with you, I swear,’ He swept up her skirt and slid his hot fingers up her thigh.

Rowenna came to her senses. ‘Who is Brenna?’ she said, tearing her mouth from his hot kiss.

Jasper leapt off her as if she was on fire. ‘If you value your safety, never mention that name again.’

She scuttled across the bed away from him. ‘I look like her, which is why I was chosen.’

‘So, you have heard of my humiliation.’ His voice was ice.

‘A little.’

‘Well, here it is, in all its ugliness, so that you may gloat. I was to wed Brenna Curwen, and she spurned me.’

‘Why?’

‘She did not care for me, for I am not the best of men.’

‘You might have won her had you been kind and gentle.’

He sneered. ‘As I might win you?’

‘Aye, for love cannot be forced or bought, Jasper.’

‘Love. What is that but weakness? And there can be no love where there is no heart. Have you not already decided that mine has withered away?’

He outstared her, so Rowenna looked away. ‘She looked like me, didn’t she?’ she said with a pounding heart.

‘A little, aye. You have the same hair colour, and your face is beautiful in a gentle way, like hers. So there it is. And now I have only to feel shame that I was brought so low by a woman’s wiles. Make no mistake. I will not fall for yours. I have done you a kindness in letting you speak of Brenna without retribution, but you will never say her name in my keep again.’

‘I’ll not be a substitute for her.’

‘I do not expect you to be. Let me speak plainly. We will be handfasted, but I will not force you into my bed or put a hand on you that is not welcome. You will have my protection at Kransmuir.’

‘Such as it is,’ said Rowenna, looking down at the bed.

He came over to her and took up a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. ‘You will be truthful and obedient, Rowenna, and look me in the eye when I speak to you, lass.’ He tilted her chin up. ‘If my mother and sisters bully you, stand up to them. If you do not, they will peck at you like a flock of hens until they have pulled out all your pretty feathers, and you are naked.’ He smiled, softening his face to handsomeness. ‘Though, I might like to see that.’

‘You said you would not put a hand on me, so let go of my hair.’

He stepped back. Pride sat at the heart of Jasper Glendenning. It was everything to a powerful young laird, and she had wounded it. Would he punish her?

His voice was a little sad when he said, ‘I like the look of you, lass. Because of you, something I thought was lost, stirs in me once more.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Desire.’ He frowned and stared into her eyes. ‘Hope, maybe.’ He shrugged. ‘Some kind of hope, and I suppose that makes me the world’s biggest fool.’

Jasper turned and walked out, leaving Rowenna all alone. Her chest was tight, and his kiss still burned on her lips. What did he mean when he talked about hope? What could a man of such ferocity have to hope for? And he had been so angry when she mentioned Brenna, his past love. How shocking that he had admitted to loving someone.

But how could any woman ever love him back? Jasper’s heart was iron, and his soul was rotten. She could not marry him. He terrified her. Yet when he looked at her with that yearning in his eyes, some alchemy turned his scar-ravaged face into one a woman might desire. Rowenna shook her head to banish the thought of that mouth with its pale line of scar tissue sliding over her lips.

Jasper may be hateful, but a glance around the chamber revealed a savage truth. Fallstairs was a hovel compared to Kransmuir. Here, there were expensive furnishings, heavy drapes on the windows, and a colourful rug on the floor to keep out the cold. The bed was massive, hewn from black oak. It dominated the room. Marriage to Jasper Glendenning would drag her up in the West March from squalor to a life of prosperity and safety. But to succeed in that life, she had to give Jasper a son, which meant succumbing to his caresses in that huge bed.

For a moment, Rowenna contemplated such a fate. She shuddered at the thought of his broad hands, calloused from wielding a sword, scouring her shuddering flesh off her bones. He would not make love. He would take, possess, use. Though he had just kissed her tenderly enough, that man would have no mind to her pleasure. Jasper would take her as a stallion services a mare, with just enough connection to bring forth an heir. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, he would get her with child quickly and then forget about her. After that, she might forge some semblance of a life at Kransmuir, maybe carve out a corner of it for herself.

How could she even contemplate such a union? She stared out of the window at the woodland. It seemed as impenetrable as Jasper Glendenning’s character. Could she love a child of Jasper’s, formed in his image? She could, as long as she did not grow to hate him too much. And he already had a bairn. Could she love that motherless child, too? There was also Cecily to consider. Jasper had influence. He could find her. She was sure of it. If there was a chance to recover Cecily, how could she not take it?

It would not do to sit like a bird in a cage, helpless in its plight. It was time to explore Kransmuir and look for a means of escape, should she need it.