‘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.’
