‘With strangers who will hate me,’ she snapped. Giselle looked down at the black bread and salt pork he had given her for supper, dread churning her stomach. Loneliness crept over her like a shadow.
Lyall regarded her steadily as he lay down by the fire. ‘It won’t be like that. Come, lass, coory into me and get some sleep.’
‘Coory? What is that?
‘Come here, and I will show you,’ he said.
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because I regret my anger earlier, and the way I spoke to you. I would have you forgive me, Giselle, for everything that happened today. Come here to me, and I’ll not lay a hand on you, I swear. I know you are frightened, and I mean only to comfort you.’
Giselle ignored him.
‘Will you not speak to me, Giselle?’ Anger tainted his words.
‘Why would I do that, when you have used me so ill?’
‘Is that what you think I was doing, using you?’
‘What else could it be? You shamed me Lyall, and in front of those men, too. It was awful, the way they looked at me like I was some slattern, some loathsome, dirty thing.’
‘Giselle, stop.’
‘Oh, don’t tell me it was otherwise, that you are trying to protect me. You can pretend to be honourable and kind all you like, but the truth is, I am your prisoner, and I’ll never be anything else to you.’
‘What do you want to be to me?’
‘Nothing, I want nothing from you, except my freedom, and for bringing me here, and for doing what you did, you are no better than Banan MacGregor, and that is the truth of it.’
If she wounded Lyall, she could not see, for she turned her back on him. Silence took the cave, and the only sound was the thrashing of trees outside and the hiss of rain falling.
When next he spoke, his words were bitter. ‘You think I am like Banan. Let me tell you about him. That whoreson is like a hunting dog when it gets a scent. He will put down his head and follow it, as long as it takes to catch his prey. He will never give up while there is breath in his body. I have denied Banan something he wants. If I had not intervened, he would no doubt have raped you, repeatedly and brutally, and then, depending on his whim and who was around as witness, he would have killed you or left you behind, discarded without a second thought. Virtue, purity, honour, these things mean nothing to him. His lust for women and violence are bedfellows, one feeds the other in his twisted heart.’
Giselle wanted to ignore such harshness, but instead, she felt compelled to reply. ‘Why does Black Douglas tolerate such a man in his ranks?
‘Do you think he cares whether or not Banan is a moral man? Lord Douglas sees in him a merciless killer, who hates the English with a vengeance. He is a weapon, albeit one who is hard to control, and his father is a powerful ally of King Robert. Highland clans are a law unto themselves, Giselle. They bicker over land and power and will slaughter each other over the smallest of slights. Each clan chief has his own army and, though they pledge loyalty to King Robert, they can fall into violence in a heartbeat. Robert has to court the allegiance of these powerful men to hold his throne, especially as he seeks to be formally acknowledged as King of Scotland. So Banan is tolerated, because of his father.’
‘That is awful of him, grubbing for power, no matter the cost.’
‘Aye, it is, but your English King does the same.’
‘Then I suppose he is no different from King Robert, as you are no different to Banan.’
‘I am very different, and you are undeserving of my protection if you think otherwise.’
‘You are horrible, Lyall Buchanan, and you should not have taken liberties with me.’
‘I wasn’t taking, you were giving,’ he snarled.
Giselle was silent.
‘I’m not wrong, am I?’ he said.
‘Well if I did give myself, then I regret it now.’
‘That makes two of us. So we will not do it again, nor speak of it again.’
Giselle wept silent tears, for herself and for her heart, which now felt a little broken by this rough Scot. Why should she care about his opinion of her, he was nothing but a savage and a heartless seducer? How dare Lyall blame her. But she had to admit, her lack of resistance to his advances had not been out of fear, or a wish to get him on her side. She hadn’t resisted because what Lyall had done to her had felt good, and she hadn’t wanted him to stop.
But Lyall could never know that. The only thing that mattered now was survival. She had to get away from this Scot as soon as may be, before he discovered the truth about her situation. Lyall Buchanan was as much her enemy as she was his.
It was cold on the hard ground, so Giselle wrapped her blanket around her and curled up into a ball listening to the rain falling.
At some point in the night, she must have fallen deeply asleep, for when she woke at dawn, the Scot was beside her, and she was covered in a blanket. She could feel Lyall’s warmth along her back, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in his sleep. His arm was thrown carelessly over her shoulder, his body was pressed to her back.
When she stirred, he leapt away and up, like a scalded cat. Dusting himself off, he looked out of the cave. ‘The skies have cleared up. We’ll press on to Beharra.’