‘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.
