Joanna Fulford by His Lady of Castlemora Page A

start he was hopeful of amending them. If everything went as he hoped thereafter he’d be able to announce his betrothal soon enough. Then they could all go home.
    ‘The lady is fair,’ said Jock.
    Ban’s face remained impassive. ‘Yes, she is.’
    ‘Rumour didn’t do her justice.’
    ‘Quite so.’
    ‘The man who wins her will be most fortunate.’
    ‘Indeed he will.’
    Realising he wasn’t going to be drawn Jock let the subject drop and the conversation turned to other things.
    Ban hid a smile, amused rather than annoyed by so transparent an attempt to pump him for information. In fact Isabelle had been very much on his mind. Since their betrothal the only real chance to speak with her had been when they met at table and, since the place was public, their conversation was confined to safe topics. After the disastrous episode following their betrothal she seemed a little more diffident, more eager to please. At the same time her smile had an anxious quality that he found perturbing. He didn’t want her to feel anxious or uncomfortable around him; on the contrary. Furthermore it mattered rather more than he could have anticipated. Her fear was an affront to manhood: so lovely a woman ought to enjoy intimacy, not dread it, and he wanted very much to instil that idea. The setback had not abated his interest in the least. If anything it had increased. The thought of her excited him, something he had not expected to find in a potential bride. In consequence he found himself looking forward to the day when he could take her to his bed openly and as often as he pleased. When he did he wanted it to be with her willing consent.
    In his exploration of Castlemora he had located an old barn which was set apart from the main buildings but close enough to afford relatively easy access. It was used to store hay and grain. Being quiet and little frequented it thus provided a convenient place for his purpose since he and Isabelle could meet there discreetly. It carried an element of risk but there was no way around that. Discovery would be extremely awkward but, if anything, the possibility lent spice to the adventure.
    * * *
    When he proposed the place to Isabelle she made no demur. The barn was out of the way and they were unlikely to be disturbed. Not that the fear of discovery was uppermost in her mind just then. Having had time to grow accustomed to the idea of their betrothal and to Ban’s company, she just wanted to get the business of consummation over with. After the first time it would doubtless be easier.
    He was waiting when she arrived. His presence seemed to dominate the space somehow and he seemed disconcertingly at ease whereas she felt as nervous as a goose at the approach of Michaelmas.
    He smiled at her. ‘I wondered if you would change your mind.’
    ‘No, I haven’t changed my mind.’
    ‘I’m glad. I know this isn’t easy for you.’
    Her eyes widened a little. ‘I think perhaps it isn’t easy for either of us, my lord.’
    ‘I’d be the first to admit that the circumstances are not ideal but you have no reason to be afraid. Nothing that happens here is going to hurt you.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Then will you trust me?’
    She nodded. He drew her closer, his lips brushing hers, soft, coaxing. As she relaxed a little the kiss became more assertive, his tongue flirting lightly with hers. He tasted pleasantly of mead, a heady sweetness that mingled with the scents of hay and wool and leather. His hold tightened a little so that she was pressed against him, his hands caressing her back. Their warmth sent a tremor along her skin. Tentatively she pressed closer. As she did so she felt the start of his arousal. Her pulse quickened but not entirely through apprehension.
    He drew back a little, looking into her face. ‘Come.’
    His cloak was spread out on the hay and he drew her down with him and then resumed where they had left off. He took his time, kissing, caressing, using every device he knew to