Chapter Sixteen

Early mornings had become the best part of Rowenna’s day. When Kransmuir woke up, all was hushed and calm. It was not so when Jasper was around. He came and went at all hours and did not seek her out when he returned. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding her. Strangely enough, Rowenna had missed his hulking presence over the last two weeks and longed to make sense of what had happened on their wedding night by talking to him. But aside from the odd grunt and nod in her direction, Jasper seemed to want nothing to do with her. He was preoccupied, and she could only conclude that his rapid and fierce infatuation, if it could be called that, had faded as quickly as it had flared.

Rowenna wrapped a fur around her shoulders and stared out the window at the light snow dusting the tops of the trees. Her breath misted against the glass. It would be another bitterly cold day, but the nursery would be warm and cosy.

Osla was not there. Instead, she found a servant girl stoking the fire. ‘You may leave now,’ she said.

‘But the bairn,’ replied the girl, eyes darting nervously to Caitrin in her cot. No one at Kransmuir viewed Rowenna with anything other than distrust.

‘You may entrust her care to me,’ she said. ‘Run along now.’ The lass fled, happy to be out of her presence, no doubt.

Rowenna’s shoulders relaxed. Time alone without the judgemental stares of others was a precious thing, and she intended to make the most of it. Caitrin stirred in her cot and gave a little hiccup. Rowenna picked up the precious bundle with a smile and held her close. A warm, milky smell came off her head, now capped with down-soft hair. She breathed in the smell, for it was delicious, as was the feel of the plump bairn squirming against her chest.

The fire crackled, and time passed until Rowenna’s face glowed from the heat. Her thoughts strayed to Fallstairs. Did she miss its draughty, mildewed hall, her bare, cold chamber? No. She had been seduced by Kransmuir’s comforts, if not its laird.

Did she miss its occupants? Not her vexing, feckless father, her selfish, drunken brother, and certainly not Morgan with his earnest attentions, or Morag with her casually cruel jibes.

But her heart ached for Cecily, and Jasper’s men had still found no trace of her. Was she safe and well or lying cold in the ground somewhere? A tear welled and trickled, but she wiped it away, leaving a sticky track on her skin. Caitrin stirred, and Rowenna cooed and rocked the bairn back to sleep.

‘Well, isn’t this a pretty picture?’

Jasper leaned on the doorway, his gaze intent. Must he bring his menace into her day?

‘Why were you crying?’ he said.

‘I was not,’ she replied, but the tear track felt like a burn.

He accepted the lie easily enough. Perhaps he did not care. ‘How often do you come here?’ he said.

‘Every day.’

His brows knotted, and the silence swelled.

‘I have not seen you much of late,’ said Rowenna. ‘What have you been doing?’

‘Crushing my enemies.’ He pushed off the door frame and stood over her. ‘Why have a care for my daughter when you have none for me?’

‘I like to see Caitrin. She calms me, and the wet nurse, Osla, is company of sorts.’

‘Of sorts, aye. But do not believe everything that wet nurse says. I am sure she is as fond of me as you are. Take some advice, Rowenna, and widen your circle of friends.’

‘There are few to be had here. It seems most folk think I am little better than your whore, so they avoid me. And I seek out Osla so that I do not go mad with boredom. There is nothing for me to do. I have no purpose.’

‘I can give you a purpose,’ he said with a wicked grin. It was sudden, bright, like a flash of lightening, and as hard to hold onto. It made Jasper warmer, just for an instant, but the look in his eye told her she might still be on dangerous ground. But Jasper was more talkative than usual, so Rowenna took her chance.

‘Can I not go riding or hunting to ease my boredom? I am good with a crossbow. I can bring meat for the table.’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’ she said, feeling breathless and off balance.

‘Because you will ride away and never come back, and that is all I will say on the matter.’

‘I suppose I should expect nothing less from my jailor,’ said Rowenna.

Jasper sighed. ‘Did you not like the dresses I sent you?’

She would not be deterred by the abrupt change of subject. ‘The dresses are fine, but I cannot ride in them.’

‘Why this obsession with riding?’ he spat.

‘Because I long to see the sky, not idle my days away in this sunless place. I want to feel the wind on my face, smell the firs in the woods and hear bird song.’

‘I will not let you outside these walls.’

‘I will not run, I promise.’

‘Does a MacCreadie’s word even mean anything?’ he said bitterly.

‘Mine does. You must let me outside, for I have kept my part of the bargain.’

Jasper smiled again, but it did not reach his eyes. ‘Not fully,’ he said.

‘But I let you…I gave you my….’

‘Virginity? Our union was cut short, Rowenna.’

‘Not by me,’ she said with her face on fire.

‘By my scruples, then. But no bairn will come from what we did.’

Jasper meant to have her again. The thought was suffocating. Rowenna could not move in the face of his unblinking stare. Her hands started to shake, and she clutched Caitrin tighter.

‘The bairn likes you,’ he said quickly.

‘She likes being held. She does not care who is doing it. Bairns need affection, to feel the closeness and warmth of another body.’

‘Don’t we all?’ he said.

The conversation had taken an unwelcome turn. ‘I must go.’

‘How would you know about bairns and what they need, lass?’ he said.

‘I had two younger brothers and a sister who did not survive many weeks after birth. I held them while I could, while they were on this earth.’

‘I am sorry for it. Truly.’ His face softened, but it was a lie, of course. He did not care for her heartbreak any more than he cared for her freedom.

Rowenna went to place Caitrin in the crib, but Jasper stepped in front of her holding out his arms. ‘Give her to me.’

He cradled the tiny bundle to his chest as though his bairn was made of glass. Jasper looked at his daughter with such tenderness that his face lost its harsh snarl and became almost gut-wrenchingly handsome. Suddenly, Rowenna could see the power he might have over any woman who earned that look. But she doubted any ever would, other than his daughter.

Jasper looked up suddenly. ‘Is she not the bonniest lass in the Marches, my daughter?’

‘Aye, she is.’

‘You are bonnie, too, Rowenna. Every day that passes, there is greater beauty for me to fathom – the colour in your cheeks, the bloom to your skin. It puzzles me. Could it be that life at Kransmuir agrees with you?’

‘You see what is not there, Jasper.’

‘There must be something about this place that is appealing.’

‘I eat well,’ she said.

He grabbed her bottom in his hand. ‘Well, you have filled out nicely since I got hold of you,’ he said with a laugh.

‘I suppose it suits you to have me fat with child, too.’

‘It does, but it also suits me to not see you starving and shivering at Fallstairs. And yet, you still think me a monster.’

‘I don’t think of you at all.’

‘Do you not, lass? His tone hardened. ‘I have shown restraint, you know. I have not laid a finger on you since our wedding night.’

‘And am I to be grateful for that?’

‘You are to understand that there is a limit to any man’s patience.’ It was a steely warning.

‘Why not take your pleasure elsewhere, Jasper?’

‘How can I do that, when I am consumed with thoughts of you? You banish my sleep, Rowenna. And now that I have had a little taste, I want to gorge on you until I am sated.’

‘Then our appetites do not match.’

He heaved a big sigh. ‘You never give any ground, do you? Tell me, Rowenna. Why do you wish to be a mother to my bairn, but not a wife to me?’

How could she explain to him or even to herself? ‘Caitrin is innocent and motherless. You are not.’

‘I am motherless at present since I banished my family to my aunt’s to make way for you, and I have refused her pleas to return.’

That had been as unexpected as it was welcome. How could she ever understand a man as changeable as Jasper? ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked.

‘I wanted them gone so that we could have a chance to get used to one another. It was meant as a kindness on my part. Many husbands would not be so forbearing.’

‘Am I to believe you were doing that for my sake?’

‘I was.’ He shrugged as if he was uncomfortable being caught in an act of kindness. Then he smiled. ‘Maybe I wanted them out of the way so that I could throw you into my bed and not let you out of it for a few weeks.’

‘Ah, there he is - the real Jasper Glendenning.’

‘In all my glory, aye. Now, why don’t we go to your chamber and relieve your boredom, wife?’

Jasper could be very seductive, with his deep, slow way of talking, saying one thing but suggesting something far more sinful. Gold stubble was just coming through on his chin, and his blue eyes were bright with mischief. And his sensual mouth was close enough to kiss. The remembered warmth and invasion of it meeting her own sent heat to Rowenna’s belly. It was nice to be kissed, touched and conquered by Jasper Glendenning. The caress of his warm, rough fingers had made Rowenna feel beautiful, powerful, and wanted, if only for a moment.

His hand came to her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. It would be so easy to surrender to a scrap of affection and flattery. She teetered on the brink of wanting him.

She pushed his hand away. ‘No. I have better things to do than succumb to your urges, Jasper.’

‘Fair enough, lass,’ he said, as if it did not matter at all.

Rowenna hurried away, smiling a little at the triumph of denying Jasper what he wanted but worried that he might come after her and take it. What a villain he was, and what a ruinous effect he had on her restraint. She wanted to know what was beyond the touch of his fingers, the hunger of his mouth and the weight of his big, hard body. What if she let him go inside her again and…?

Rowenna squealed as a meaty hand reached out and pulled her into an empty room. Osla shut the door and barred it with her body.

‘What are you doing?’ cried Rowenna.

‘Saving your virtue, lass. I heard you two flirting. Do not let him fool you with his charms. Jasper Glendenning is nought but a conniving villain.’

‘I was not flirting.’

‘Never mind what you were doing. I have news of your brother, and you need to hear it. Come with me.’

Osla flung back a tapestry to reveal a hidden door opening onto a stairway. She led the way down, and it seemed to descend forever. Everything grew dark and cold, and there was a smell of damp and decay. At the bottom of the stairs, a single torch burned in a wall sconce, sending phantom-like shadows up the cold stone.

Rowenna pulled on Osla’s hand. ‘I’ll not go a step further until you tell me where we are going,’ she cried.

‘To meet the truth. Just down there, at the end of this passageway, you will find an answer to what kind of man is Jasper Glendenning. No one comes down here much because this part of the castle is said to be haunted. Aye, it makes my flesh crawl just to be here, for a person can be forgotten or lost in this place. Now hurry, for you have little time. There will be a terrible price to pay if you are caught.’

‘Then tell me what we are doing here.’

‘No, you have to see for yourself.’

A clattering noise came from above, and Osla’s eyes widened. ‘Go. Hurry. I will see you upstairs.’

She fled, and Rowenna was left alone in the half light. She could go back up the stairs or forward before her nerve failed. So Rowenna headed to the end of the corridor following a series of stout wooden doors. She tried one or two, but they would not budge an inch. Suddenly it dawned on her. This was a dungeon. Her skin tightened as if a spider was crawling across it. She looked behind her, but Osla had gone, and just then, a moan came from the darkness, followed by a croaking voice, ‘Who is there. Declare yourself,’ it demanded.

It could not be. Rowenna hurried to the furthest door and peered inside, and there he was. Bran’s filthy face pressed up against the metal bars set in the door.

‘Rowenna. Is it you, or is my mind playing tricks one me?’

‘No, it is I.’

She reached out a hand, and he grabbed it. His fingers were icy cold. ‘The darkness plays cruel tricks, but it is you,’ he sobbed. ‘Oh, Rowenna, please. You have to get me out of here.’

***

Jasper strode into the hall to find his mother waiting for him.

‘I suppose you are not happy to see me,’ she said.

He kissed her cold cheek. ‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

‘Do not be afraid that I will stay. I am reconciled to my banishment in the name of you tupping that MacCreadie slut. But word has reached me that you have difficulty consummating your marriage.’

Jasper glowered at her. ‘If that is what you came for, then you can leave,’ he said. ‘I would hurry, for there’s snow on the way.’

‘There was blood on your wedding night sheets, and yet you sleep apart, or so the servants tell me. Am I wrong?’

‘I’ll cut out their tongues for wagging.’

‘If servants’ gossip travels, your shame will be known throughout the Marches. Folk will think you weak, not man enough to do your duty and bring an heir.’

‘I would rather be patient and let Rowenna come to me, for I seek a happy bride, a union of souls.’

‘Patience is not part of your nature, my son. I told you that a Glendenning takes what he wants.’

‘And I said I will not get an heir by forcing and terrifying the lass.’

‘How you get an heir is not important. That lass has one duty, yet she spurns it. You cannot trust her innocent act. She keeps you begging as a ruse, nothing more. That slattern has no more maidenly virtue than your sister.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Let us speak plainly for once. Maeve is loose in her morals. Only yesterday, I caught her with a groom’s filthy hand up her skirts.’

‘Then I will take that hand off,’ shouted Jasper.

‘Fear not. I had the wretch whipped to within an inch of his life. He will not talk of her disgrace on pain of death. I have covered up the scandal, but it hardly improves her prospects. I fear your sister is simple-minded and easily led. The sooner we marry her off to Carstairs, the better, before someone puts a bairn in her belly, or he sees her for what she is and changes his mind.’

‘Do what you think is best, Mother. Now you may take your leave.’

‘No. You are in peril from this new Warden, are you not?’

‘No more than usual.’

‘All the more reason to trust no one, least of all a MacCreadie lass. Stop making a fool of yourself. Do what you must and take what you want. Kindness and restraint do not suit my fierce son. That is my last word on the subject.’

‘If only that were true,’ muttered Jasper as his mother swept out with one last glare.

***

It would be getting dark soon. She would be missed. ‘I must go Bran,’ said Rowenna, trying to tear her hands from her brother’s, but he held on fast.

‘Please, a little longer. I have not seen a soul in days, only the jailor who comes with mouldy bread and stale ale. Can you not see that I have been slowly dying these last weeks?’

He did not look too bad. He was still paunchy, though there was a pallor from being shut up in the dark.

‘I cannot believe Jasper took you, Bran, when he swore he would not.’

‘I cannot believe you handfasted with that liar and scoundrel.’

‘I had no choice, and I did it to save your skin. What did you do that was so terrible that Jasper locked you in his dungeon? Tell me the truth.’

‘I did nothing, sister, save owe him a debt, the penny-pinching mongrel. ‘Tis nothing to him – a few coins, yet he would have me die for want of it.’

‘There must be more to it than that. I can always tell when you are lying.’

‘I am innocent of the charge of conspiring against him, sister. And Glendenning took you for one reason only. He desires you.’

‘A passing fancy, nothing more,’ she said.

‘But it is the key to this lock,’ said Bran, shaking his cell door. ‘You can use Jasper’s lust to save my life. I need only get free, and I will go far away from here. You will never see me again.’

‘I can never get the key, Bran.’

‘You can if you ask him nicely. He has threatened to drive Father off his land, to end Clan MacCreadie. Rowenna, a man will grant any favour when he is happy, and it is your duty as his wife to lie with him. Put a smile on his face, then ask for my release. Glendenning will grant you a favour with that bonnie face of yours.’

‘No. I cannot. The handfasting is not fully consummated, and I don’t want it to be.’

‘Do I mean so little that you would refuse to use your God-given gifts to save my life?’ hissed Bran.

‘Do I mean so little that you would have me whore myself to save your skin?’

‘You must do it, or I will die here, sister. And then you will be joined to a man who murdered your brother. How can your conscience live with that? And once he has killed me, you still have to lie with that brute, don’t you? So why not do it now for a good cause?’

‘He will never believe that I want him, and he will be angry if I deceive him.’

‘You are clever, Rowenna, and bonnier than you realise. You can convince him that you are sincere in your affection. Make him happy. All our fortunes depend on it.’

‘I will find keys, Bran. I will smuggle you out somehow.’

‘There is no time. I cannot last much longer. Look at me, will you?’

As usual, Rowenna tried to appease her brother’s anger. ‘I will try and sneak down tomorrow with some food.’

‘Aye, ‘tis the least you can do,’ he said resentfully.

Rowenna rushed away as Bran called after her, ‘Only your scruples lie between me and death, sister. Make him happy. Please.’

She hurried back up the staircase, cursing. Must she always be the one to sacrifice for the sake of others, and what had it brought her so far? Her father was still letting his birthright fall to rack and ruin, Bran was still blaming others for his mistakes, and Jasper’s men had found no trace of Cecily. And worst of all, Jasper, for all his smiles and so-called restraint, had betrayed her and taken her brother prisoner. Damn all men, and damn Jasper Glendenning to hell.