‘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 akindness 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 forgesome 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.
Chapter Eleven
Jasper sought refuge from his folly through Randel’s gruff company and a good deal of whisky. Eventually, he went in search of his mother and found her out at the dovecote, feeding the birds. She had always doted on them in a way she never had her own children.
They gave away Jasper’s approach with a flap of velvety wings and clatter of claws and retreated inside their sanctuary - foolish, skittish creatures. Why did softness always retreat from him? His heart still twisted with disappointment from his exchange with Rowenna, and his mother did not help.
‘Have you come to make amends for raising Beattie’s ire?’ she said.
‘Why should I, when his daughter raised nothing at all in me, mother?’
‘Aye, you like them poor and coarse, don’t you, my son? A decent lass will not stir you.’
The weight of the day pressed on him, but he still had to face her disapproval. ‘Mother, why would I ally myself to a clan as weak as water?’
‘Because the Beatties have substance, yet they are not too lofty, so a union will offend no one. It will not be seen as a threat. That lass, Emeline, is perfectly suitable in every way that matters.’
‘Aye, aside from the fact that I do not want her, and I never will. It is for me to choose my own bride, so that is an end to it.’
‘Do not act the fool, Jasper. It is one thing to seek out drabs in taverns. I can turn a blind eye to that. But to bring a whore into our home is insufferable.’
‘Rowenna is no whore,’ he growled. ‘We are to be handfasted, and she will give me a son.’
Joan Glendenning’s mouth fell open. ‘You cannot be in earnest. The MacCreadies have nothing to offer us. They are dirt poor, and their glory long since faded.’
‘Aye, they are poor, and Rowenna is payment for a debt that is owed, and that is why I took her.’
‘Bah. As if you care about the debt.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘I know full well why you took her. She looks just like that other cold bitch you tried to marry, and she did not want you any more than this one does.’
