Chapter Twelve

The hall was buzzing with gossip, no doubt at his expense. Jasper knew he had laid his pride open to ridicule in taking Rowenna. But his overpowering desire for her demanded it, as did the frail hope that the wild MacCreadie lass might bring him more happiness than he had found with women thus far.

Kransmuir’s hall looked spectacular with the sconces blazing, casting shadows up the walls. The high table was groaning with food – a display of wealth they could well afford - and the glass of sweet wine he nursed in his hands tasted of the sun, like sultry, warmer climes. There was only one thing missing.

‘Where is that creature of yours?’ hissed Glenna. ‘All your clansmen are eager to see your latest paramour.’

‘Rowenna is no paramour. We are to be wed, so you will show respect.’

‘Never,’ spat Glenna.

‘Then I will send you away to stop your sniping.’

‘Perhaps she has absconded over the walls,’ offered Maeve.

‘Let us hope so,’ said Joan, her thin face pinched and sour.

‘I have ordered Rowenna to come, so she will come,’ he snarled, wishing they would all disappear.

Suddenly, the hall fell silent. Rowenna had entered.

Jasper’s breath caught, for she was a vision in an emerald dress which brought out the gold in her hair. Someone must have pinned her down and tamed its unruly tangle, for it was coiled high on her head, with one fat ringlet left to hang, kissing the top of her creamy breasts. They rose and fell rapidly under the gaze of a hundred eyes, yet Rowenna stood her ground and returned every one of those stares, willing them to look away. And they did. Not for the first time, Jasper admired her courage.

She looked uncertainly down the rows of tables and found his gaze. Jasper put down his wine and approached her as casually as possible. He gave an elaborate bow and held out his hand for her to take. Rowenna slid her hand into his palm. Her fingers were delicate yet rough from working at Fallstairs, and he resolved to pamper her until he had softened those hands.

Once they were seated with his sisters and mother, the hum of conversation started up again, some of it open, some from behind hands, whispered in ears.

‘What do you think of my hall, Rowenna?’ he said into the stony silence from his family.

‘It is very grand indeed,’ she said, reaching for his wine and quaffing a good deal of it in great gulps.

Jasper took the glass away from her. ‘Steady. You may need your wits about you this evening before my clansmen.’

The lass said nothing, twisting her trembling fingers together in her lap. He put his hand over them and squeezed, and she let him. They locked eyes. Hers were dark brown flecked with amber and so warm and soft that he momentarily lost his words.

‘You look very well in that dress,’ he offered, leaning in. A sweet smell came off her skin.

‘I had no choice. Your servants forced me into a bath and scrubbed me until my flesh nearly came off my bones,’ she said crossly. ‘And I was told that if I did not don this dress, you would come and strip me naked and force me into it.’

He laughed. ‘It was an idle threat. Forgive me, please. I just wanted to give you something better than that rag you were wearing.’

‘Ah, so you are ashamed of me. Good.’

‘Quite the opposite, lass. And what about the earrings I sent?'

‘Still in my chamber, for I will not be bought so cheaply with little trinkets.’

‘Trinkets! Those earrings are worth a king’s ransom.’

‘Give them to him then,’ she pouted, eyeing his wine again.

‘I fear they would not flatter his complexion.’ Jasper smiled steadily at her and slid her his glass of wine. Rowenna clutched it in her fingers as if her life depended on it. ‘I met him once, you know,’ he continued.

‘The King? What was he like?’

Ah, so he had finally piqued her interest. ‘Our King is an ill-favoured man, bow-legged, with a long, sallow face, and it would be flattery to describe him as middling in height. Stunted is more like it, and he is prone to slobbering when he eats, like a peasant.’

‘But what of his character?’ said asked, wide-eyed.

‘He is as devious as he is corpulent and ruthless to a fault. He smells like a stoat and tends to kiss his favourites on the lips. You will have heard the rumours of the young men who frequent his bedchamber.’

‘I cannot believe that.’

‘Well, you should. The English court is a licentious place with all manner of sin and corruption on offer. Once I left, I wanted to scrub myself for days to get the taint off.’

‘That is not what I imagined court to be.’

‘Ah, so I have disappointed you. Did you expect the place to be gilded and sophisticated, full of noble men and virtuous women? Trust me, lass, the men of the West March could give the English nobility a lesson in manners. Yet they say we are savages who need to be stamped out.’

Rowenna fell silent, no doubt cowed by the taint of anger in his voice. Jasper tried to be gentler. ‘You have not travelled much, have you, lass?’

She sighed. ‘I have not travelled beyond Threave and a few nearby villages, so I suppose you think I am just an ignorant peasant.’

‘No, and you were safer staying close to home. If you went to the English court, they would devour you in a moment, steal away your virtue and ruin you.’

‘Isn’t that what you want to do?’

‘I dearly want to steal your virtue. I cannot lie. The thought of it has plagued me these many nights.’ She coloured at this admission. He must guard his tongue. ‘But I would lift you up, not bring you low, Rowenna. I would make you my wife.’

‘You would make me your brood mare.’

‘There is nothing wrong with that. A man without sons is a man without a future.’

‘And I suppose your daughter is worth nothing?’ she said, turning from his gaze.

‘Caitrin will have every comfort, and she will have a good life. I hear you met her.’

Rowenna looked at him in alarm. ‘I was exploring Kransmuir and happened upon her. Was I not supposed to see her?’

‘No. I am glad you did. But remember, I know everything that happens in this keep. What did you think of her?’

‘She is a fine bairn, sturdy.’

‘And in dire need of a mother.’ He leant in. ‘I fear my mother and sisters are not up to the task, but you might be.’

Rowenna frowned. ‘And why would you trust her with me?’

‘I don’t rightly know. But I think you have a good soul.’ He put his hand on her arm, for he could not resist touching her. ‘Will you not see me as a good prospect, Rowenna? Can you not reconcile yourself to becoming mine?’

‘I won’t be some man’s possession.’

‘Every woman is some man’s possession, eventually. Best to choose the right man, that is all. I would have you come to this marriage and my bed willingly.’

‘Oh, I can grit my teeth and manage that. But willing is not the same as wanting, is it, Jasper?’

She had sliced open his weakness with a few words, and he could not stop himself. ‘Rowenna, I have long since dreamed of being wanted by a woman, not for riches, power, or position, but just for myself. I want a woman who will miss me when I am gone and welcome me when I return home.’ He stared into her eyes and found them beautiful. ‘I want warmth, sweetness, and loyalty, something to fight for, and I thought I might find that in you.’

‘If that is what you want, a dog will do just as well.’

‘But I am a vigorous man, and I need a woman who runs eagerly into my bed and never wants to leave it.’

‘While you go whoring all over the West March, leaving her with a swollen belly.’

He took her hand and kissed it. ‘That is the old Jasper Glendenning. I sowed my oats in my youth, but it brought me no peace. I am wiser now. Once I am wed, I will take no other, this, I swear.’ Rowenna’s lips were so close, he wanted to kiss her, now, before all his clansmen, but she would only recoil and shame him.

She stared up at him, blinking rapidly, and her colour rose. Desire was a flame in his belly, and just for a moment he thought he saw it in Rowenna.

A discreet cough broke the spell. Randel stood before them. He nodded at Rowenna. ‘You look very well this eve, mistress,’ he said with a grin.

‘Aye, she does. What of it?’ snapped Jasper.

‘The lady has a visitor who says he has a bone to pick with you. Says his name is Morgan MacCadie.’

‘Morgan is here,’ cried Rowenna.

‘Aye, he is, lass, and he is saying you are betrothed to him.’

The flame of lust in Jasper’s belly roared into rage. ‘Then let us go and meet with this Morgan.’ He grabbed Rowenna’s hand and dragged her from the hall, the stares and giggles of his clansmen burning his pride.

***

Morgan MacCadie was a bull of a man. His gaze met Rowenna’s with abject longing, but when he turned to Jasper, there was a great deal of belligerence in his bearing.

‘I have come for Rowenna. Word has it, you kidnapped her and brought the lass here against her will.’

‘Is that what my father told you?’ she cried.

‘Aye. And I have come to say my piece.’ He turned to Jasper. ‘You have no right to take a woman betrothed to another, no matter how rich you are, how much of a thug you are. She’ll not become your whore when she is supposed to be my wife.’ He spat on the ground to hammer his point home.

‘I have every right to take Rowenna,’ said Jasper. ‘We are to be handfasted, so choose your next words carefully and remember you are in my keep.’

‘I care nought for your keep or for you, Glendenning,’ spat MacCreadie. ‘If it’s a fight you want, you can have it.’

‘Please. Do not fight, Morgan,’ cried Rowenna. She turned pleading eyes to Jasper. ‘He does not know what he is saying.’

‘Is this what you want, to be used by this man?’ cried MacCreadie to Rowenna. ‘What if you do not get with child, what then? Will you let this whoreson discard you like last month’s rushes, thrown onto the midden when you are no more use to him?’

Tears sprang to Rowenna’s eyes. ‘Morgan, please, you do not understand.’

‘I know he threatened your father to get you into his bed. This man holds a debt of Bran’s over your head. That is why you went with him, Rowenna. But I will gladly pay it to release you from your plight. I don’t even care if this bastard has had you. I will still marry you.’

‘Hold your tongue. Do not shame her like that,’ snarled Jasper.

‘Oh, you are fine one to talk, forcing a lass into your bed.’

‘There has been no bedding, Morgan,’ said Rowenna.

Jasper’s temper broke. ‘Enough!’ he bellowed. ‘She does not have to explain herself to you, but she does to me. Rowenna, are you betrothed to this man?’

‘No.’

‘It was implied these last years,’ cried MacCreadie. ‘I have paid court to her. I have been patient, waiting for her to warm to me. I have not stolen her away, and there was no forcing. Rowenna, your father promised you to me.’

‘No. He could not do that!’ she cried.

‘We shook on it. We had an agreement,’ he said, somewhat sheepishly.

‘Not with me, you didn’t,’ cried Rowenna.

MacCreadie made a grab for Rowenna’s hand. ‘Come with me, now. Let us leave this place.’

She jumped back and tore her hand from his. It was all Jasper could do not to cut MacCreadie’s hand off, for he could not bear the thought of the rough oaf touching her, let alone taking her precious virginity. But was he any better, reaching out a greedy hand to take what he wanted, grasping, lustful, with no mind to her feelings?

‘It seems Rowenna has been promised to almost every man in the West March - first you, then Wymon Carruthers, and now me. Why don’t we let the lass decide what she wants,’ said Jasper.

He dragged Rowenna aside, out of earshot of the man. ‘Rowenna, you must choose. If you want to be with this Morgan fellow, then go. I will not stop you.'

She glanced at the big oaf. There were tears in her eyes, and for a moment, Jasper thought he had lost his prize. Then she looked up at him. ‘No, I do not want to go with him, but don’t hurt him, please.’

‘If you stay, we will be handfasted. You will be my wife, share my bed and bring my children into this world. If you cannot bear that fate, speak now, or it will be done.’

Rowenna stared up at him, her eyes full of fear and indecision. He could not let her go, and he could not make her stay.

‘Trust me, Rowenna.’

She nodded. ‘I do not trust you, Jasper, but I will stay because I must.’

Even when she did his bidding, she jabbed at his pride. It spurred his temper. ‘I am glad to hear it. But trust in this, lass.’ He glanced over at MacCreadie. ‘You will never have the same power over me as you had over him. I’ll be no begging fool.’