Chapter Seven
Lyall made his way to the kitchen, though he was sure his men would have been through its provisions like a hoard of rats and picked it clean. It was just as well he was away from that lass, as she had aroused him when she had put her hands on him. Even now, his cock stood stiff in his breeches, and his heart quickened its pace as he thought of Giselle under him.
What a face she had on her. Those blue eyes, with their hint of green, were like the ocean where it washes over sand. They were so innocent and yet, so seductive. That fiery hair, and that mouth, all pink plumpness, begging to be devoured, to be bruised with kisses. Did she know her own beauty? Did she realise that she stirred a powerful need in him, one that hadn’t been sated in quite some time? Probably not, she would have led a soft, sheltered life and would most definitely be a virgin. She would know nothing of men’s appetites.
Thank God he had freed her from Banan’s clutches or she would have gotten a rough awakening.
Down in the kitchen, he encountered Owen, standing over a terrified castle cook who was pulling fresh bread out of the oven.
‘Found this one cowering in the grain stores, so I put him to work,’ he shouted in greeting.
Owen grabbed a hot loaf, tossing it from one hand to another, and threw it at Lyall. He let the bread scorch his skin, the pain keeping him alert a little longer.
The cook scowled. ‘Thieving heathens,’ he muttered under his breath.
Owen cuffed him around the side of the head. ‘Get back to work or you’ll get more of that.’ He tore off a piece of loaf and stuffed it in his mouth and turned to Lyall. ‘Stay a while and take some wine with me. I found it in Sir Hugh’s cellars, costly I’ll wager.’
‘I thank you, but I must get back to Giselle.’
‘Giselle is it? So you have your own work to do, eh?’ said Owen, with a smirk.
‘I’ll not lay a hand on her. It’s not like that.’
‘Why not, you won her fair and square? Why get yourself beaten black and blue for nothing?’
‘I did it so that Banan would not get his hands on her. You know what he’s like when his blood is up.’
‘Aye, and he’s a brutal bastard when it isn’t. You know he’ll just find another to take out his ire on.’
There was no arguing with that. Banan would be enraged, and once he recovered from his beating, and they took the next town or village, he would find a new victim. Lyall could not protect them all. In truth, he did not know why he felt the need to protect Giselle. Maybe it was because she had smiled at him from the castle walls. Some small human feeling had passed between them, in that moment, and thawed a little of the ice which had formed around his heart.
‘Banan will not forget the beating, and nor will his father. Lyall, are you listening?’ Owen’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. ‘There will be a reckoning, not today, but one day and the MacGregor’s have the ear of King Robert.’
‘So do us Buchanans.’
‘Aye, and my Lord Douglas respects you, and he owes you his life, and that, my friend, is no small thing. But mark me, Lyall, for I speak as your friend. No matter how high his regard for you, he will always act in King Robert’s interests above all else, no matter how devious and dishonourable those interests may be. He didn’t get to be the most feared man in the Highlands by doing the right thing. If you get in their way, or in the way of allies, like the MacGregors, they will grind you to dust, without hesitation.’
‘Remind me again why you are my friend if you bring such gloomy thoughts to my head?’
‘’T’would make no difference what I say, for you are a miserable bastard most of the time. If I am such bad company, be off with you, back to the bonnie Giselle, perhaps she can put a smile on your face.’
‘She doesn’t want to, Owen,’ said Lyall, smiling.
‘Oh, I’m sure your powers of seduction are up to it. I’ve yet to come across a lass who doesn’t lift her skirts at the sight of you. It’s galling to me, as I have much more charm and finer manners than you. Go now, and be miserable with your English prize.’
As Lyall walked away, Owen called after him, ‘If you can’t bring yourself to bed that red-head, at least you can dream of that fat ransom she’ll bring. Cold comfort I call it. You are a fool Lyall Buchanan, an honourable fool.’
Lyall took his time making his way back through the castle, with Owen’s words hanging heavily on him. He came across a servant girl, small and blond, who shrank against the wall on his approach. He took hold of her in a firm grip. ‘Don’t run away just yet. There is something I want from you first, and then you may go and hide.’
***
‘Open up. It’s me, Lyall Buchanan,’ he said, pounding impatiently on the door.
There was a long pause, and then Giselle let him in. Seems she trusted him at least.
He breezed into the room, all energy and purpose. ‘Here, I have fresh bread and cheese, and a fine pitcher of wine from Lord Hugh’s personal stores.’ He placed some rolled-up blankets on the bed.
‘What happened to Sir Hugh?’ asked Giselle.