His Lady of Castlemora. Joanna Fulford
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was trying to mislead him—the man had been frank thus far—he knew they hadn’t got to the truth yet either. Perhaps that resided with Isabelle herself.
‘It surprises me that Neil should have shirked so serious a responsibility,’ he said.
‘He was a fool.’ Graham hesitated. ‘Isabelle will breed, my lord.’
‘Will she?’ Ban didn’t want to antagonise his host but at the same time he had to make his own position clear. ‘You know my family history so I need not repeat it now,’ he continued. ‘The essential point is this: as the last surviving male member of my line it is imperative that I get heirs to continue it.’
‘Of course it is. I understand that.’
‘Then you will also understand that I need to be sure.’
Graham frowned. ‘What exactly are you suggesting?’
‘A secret betrothal. Later, if matters turn out as planned, the arrangement would be formalised publicly.’
‘It is not without precedent but it would not be easy to keep the matter quiet.’
‘You may rely on my discretion.’ Ban paused.
‘It’s a risk.’
‘A calculated one, since you have already said you are certain of a favourable outcome.’
‘If I agree to this I expect the matter to be expedited with all possible speed.’
‘As soon as you like.’
For a moment Graham was silent, formulating his thoughts. Ban made no attempt to push him. The proposal was not without precedent and the circumstances were unusual. At the same time he knew that he wanted Isabelle Graham; had wanted her since the day he met her. However, physical desire was one thing; he couldn’t afford to lose sight of the bigger picture. He had a duty to his family, to the souls of his murdered kin. He had to be sure.
At length Graham nodded. ‘A secret betrothal it is then, for the time being.’
‘The only remaining question is whether the lady will agree to the arrangement.’
‘Isabelle will be ruled by me.’
Ban wasn’t surprised. It was a father’s responsibility to find a suitable husband for a daughter, and her duty to accede to his choice. If Graham spoke with such confidence it was because he knew Isabelle respected his judgement. Privately Ban wondered what her true feelings would be. Would she accept him willingly or would she secretly consider such a match beneath her? Beatrice had considered it beneath her. Of course, he’d been much younger then, and inexperienced, so smitten with a lovely face that he’d failed to see the character behind. That had not become apparent until he declared himself and asked for her hand …
For a moment she stared at him. Then she laughed. ‘Marry you?’
At first he mistook the nature of the laughter, taking it for surprise. ‘Aye, why not?’
‘My father would never permit me to marry a Sassenach lord.’
‘I will speak to him, talk him round.’
‘It’s not just that,’ she replied.
‘Then what? I have wealth enough.’
‘But where are your lands, my lord?’
His smile faded. ‘They were stolen from me.’
‘And you have no prospect of regaining them.’
‘I will get more.’
‘How? You do not wield the kind of influence that would gain you an estate.’
His jaw tightened. ‘I’ll find a way.’
‘That might take years, if you ever succeed. I cannot waste my life waiting on the event.’
‘Would it be a waste then, Beatrice?’ He paused. ‘We would be together.’
‘To live in the hedgerows?’
‘Hardly that. I can support you in comfort.’
‘But you cannot give me position.’
‘Does that matter so much?’
‘Of course it matters. My father is rich and powerful, the laird of fair estates. Should not my husband be the same?’
‘I cannot blame you for wanting it,’ he replied.
‘Well then.’
‘I thought … I hoped that your feelings for me were strong enough to offset that.’
Beatrice smiled coldly. ‘You rate yourself too high, my lord, if you presume to think so. I am not so negligent of the duty I owe to my family and my name as to throw myself away on a mere nobody.’
Stung now, he was goaded into retort. ‘The Thanes of Heslingfield are not nobodies. They come from a proud and ancient line.’
‘But where are they now? They have no power, no influence. They are nothing.’
Brian pushed the memory aside. He’d been a fool and paid the price for it. The naïve and idealistic lover was long gone and in his place was a grown man who knew the world he lived in. This offer was an opportunity, one he’d little thought to have. It would provide a foundation on which much might be built—in time.
‘We have an agreement then,’ he said.
Graham smiled and held out his hand. ‘You’ll not regret it.’
Ban clasped the offered hand and hoped the words were true.
Chapter Five
Isabelle stared at her father in stunned disbelief, uncertain that she’d heard him correctly. ‘A secret betrothal?’
‘That’s right.’
‘A betrothal which will give him the rights of a husband?’
‘Correct.’
Disbelief was slowly displaced by outrage. Did the Sassenach thane really imagine she would agree to this? The very fact that he had suggested it showed the kind of regard in which he held her, in which he had always held her.
‘You can’t mean it.’
‘I was never more serious in my life.’
His expression supported the words, a circumstance that created the first stirrings of alarm.
‘Marriage is one thing; this is quite another.’
‘It is unusual, I’ll admit, but it is not unknown.’
‘This is little better than prostitution.’
‘It is no such thing. Nor would I have agreed to it if I thought so.’ Her father paused. ‘In essence betrothal is little different from marriage. The only variation here is that it will not be made public until you are with child.’
The visualisation of what that entailed fanned her rage to red heat. How Lord Ban must have delighted in creating this little scheme. That her father should actually sanction the plan must have afforded the very greatest amusement. How much his lordship must be enjoying the thought of her reaction.
‘I am not a brood mare to be covered by a Glengarron stallion!’
‘It is a wife’s duty to bear children and you have not done so.’
‘That