‘No. It was killing a man that moved me, and I was almost….they would have…’ She gulped down a feeling of revulsion so strong that she almost vomited again. ‘I had this awful feeling that I would die this day before I have lived. I have never travelled beyond these glens nor enjoyed life’s comforts. I have never had a man look upon me with love.’
Jasper took her hand. His was brown with dried blood. ‘You saved my life, Rowenna. Now I have one more reason to want you.’
Must he always want her? Is that all there was? He said nothing of love. Suddenly, it occurred to Rowenna that there may be a way to free Bran without surrendering her virtue, for lying with Jasper Glendenning was a pit of lust she could never climb out of. ‘As you owe me your life, perhaps you might give me a reward, Jasper.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘What is it you want?’ he said.
‘Do not turn my father off his land and cancel Bran’s debt.’
‘I will think about it,’ he said sternly as if he could see into her conniving soul.
Rowenna tugged hard on the thread, making him wince, and tied off the wound. ‘There, we are done,’ she said.
Jasper stood and put a heavy hand on her shoulder. ‘Take a bath. And do not fret. The guilt washes off as easily as the blood.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
‘Never you mind,’ was his reply, with more frost in it than the dawn.
***
By the time Rowenna had bathed and dried her hair before the fire, the sun was lowering in the sky. Winter days were short in the Marches. Rowenna could not eat the food they brought. Instead, she took a glass of whisky. Its peaty burn helped, but Jasper had not returned, and she wished he would, for even his gruff company would be a balm to her harried nerves. Feeling the need to act, she took a chunk of bread and stuffed it in her pocket.
All was deserted in the bowels of Kransmuir. Bran had told her the guard only came early mornings to feed him, now and then. He said they were starving him into submission, though he did not look that thin. Well, at least he would have a meal tonight. One less thing to feel guilty about.
Rowenna took a meandering way down to the dungeons, past the kitchens, where a few servants and the cook nodded her way. She pretended nonchalance, picking an apple off the table as she passed by and munching on it. Osla had warned her not to go the same way twice, and though she had described a route, Kransmir was so vast that Rowenna got a little lost. She ended up in a vaulted store room. A dim light filtering through a barred window, up high, revealed that it was packed with barrels, jars containing all sorts of food, and sacks laid in piles – grain, most likely. It hit her that Kransmuir had bountiful supplies, whereas Fallstairs had little.
Suddenly, it was as if the dark shadows were reaching for her. She could have died in Slayfell Woods without ever having lived. It would be awful to die a virgin, though she was not entirely sureshe still was after what Jasper had done? And now she was lost and alone, exhausted in the darkness, and Bran still had to be fed.
Rowenna was about to return the way she had come when a voice called from the shadows.
‘Are you lost, lovely?’
Chapter Eighteen
Rowenna looked so radiant that Jasper savoured the moment, hanging back to observe her. A shaft of thin light hit her glorious hair, flowing like a wave of sun-kissed silk down her back. How wrong he was to compare her to Brenna. The only similarity was the rare colour of her hair and the soft beauty. Inside, Rowenna was a harder woman altogether. Yet that suited him, for was he not hard inside too, and a little damaged in his soul? He had returned from searching in vain for the third man who had attacked him to find Rowenna’s chamber empty. Since then, he had been scouring the castle for her in a flurry of impatience. He found he was looking forward to seeing her.
Jasper watched her take a bite of the apple and wipe off the juice with the back of her hand, like a child, sending tenderness squirming in his breast while desire fired his loins.
‘Are you lost, lovely?’ he called.
She turned, wide-eyed, stricken, the apple slipping from her fingers. He instantly regretted disturbing her.
‘It seems you are forever frightened of me, lass,’ he said, emerging from the shadows. ‘There is no need to be.’
‘You crept up on me. I was startled, and I am a little wary after today.’
‘Aye. It was a hard day, and I beg forgiveness for frightening you. What are you doing down here?’
‘I was trying to become better acquainted with Kransmuir and got a little lost,’ she said, laughing nervously. Her face was as pale as chalk.
‘Aye, she’s a big old pile. ‘Tis easily done.’
Rowenna frowned and rushed over, taking hold of his arm where his bandage was seeping red. ‘Are you hurt? Why are you bleeding again?’ Her hands shook, and he took hold of them to steady her.
‘I rode a little too vigorously, that is all. No harm done, and my stitches have held. Just a bit of seeping is all. Are you worried about me, lass?’
‘Of course. I am not utterly heartless, Jasper.’
