‘Tell me about your family. Do you have brothers who will come looking for you?’
‘No, my father only sired girls. I have a half-sister, but she is much older than me, and long since wed and gone from home. We are not close.’
Ravenna rubbed soap into Giselle’s hair, lifting it off her neck to get underneath. Something she saw gave her pause.
‘Your mother?’ continued Ravenna. ‘What of her?’
‘She died when I was young, but my father took her place. He has always been very kind to me.’
Ravenna stopped scrubbing and stared down at her. Giselle was acutely aware of the bruises around her neck where Banan had strangled her, and many others, all over her body. She brought her hands in front of her to avoid Ravenna’s scrutiny.
‘We have a dead mother in common, at least,’ said Ravanna, ‘though my father was a brute, and not at all kind.’
‘You are not close to him?’
‘It is hard to be close to a dead man. He fell at the battle of Bannockburn.’
‘I am sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I don’t mourn him. My father forced me to marry Cormac, and so I came to Beharra, just like you, a frightened lass at the mercy of strangers. The only difference being, you can go home one day, and I could not, and my skin was not covered in bruises.’
‘It’s not Lyall’s fault, he…I…’
‘Fetch more water,’ Ravenna barked at the servant. She continued rubbing fiercely at Giselle’s hair and tutting angrily. ‘We’ll need to work hard to make something of this rat’s nest.’
After that, she said no more and, when the bath was done with, she bid Giselle wrap herself in blankets and then led her back to the keep.
As they crossed the yard, men rode in, dragging behind them a horse with a deer slung over its back. Blood oozed from an arrow shaft stuck in its neck, and its tongue lolled out, fleshy and grey.
Lyall was amongst them, and brought his horse to a standstill, just in front of her. For an instant, their eyes locked, and he smiled down at her.
Giselle saw only mockery in his look, and here she was, half-naked, in a yard full of rough men. She left Ravenna and rushed inside, ignoring Lyall’s shout of greeting.
***
Lyall watched Giselle flee inside the keep, with her wet hair, and the blankets clutched around her like a shield. Why did she shy away from him? Was it anger still, from their quarrel yesterday? He had been wounded by her comparing him to Banan. Didn’t he deserve to be higher in her regard than that? He was the one who should be angry with her, not the other way around.
The day had been enjoyable, catching up with his clansmen, renewing his bond with them after these years away. Part of him had wanted to stay in Beharra and make sure that Giselle was alright, but he had gone along with the others, as he didn’t want them to think he was indulging an English girl. He didn’t want them to see his weakness in liking her, even as he acknowledged it as such. So he had spent the last hours riding, at full pelt, chasing down a deer, with the baying of the hounds and the men’s laughter pushing thoughts of Giselle aside.
Now he had seen his captive again, his loins burned for her. Memories of Giselle’s smooth skin, soft curves, and warm mouth, hesitant but receptive, filled him with lust. Suddenly, he was back in that loch, with her belly pressed to his, her hair floating like a copper cloud, bright and warm like autumn leaves, around her creamy shoulders.
Lyall flung himself off his horse as Ravenna stormed towards him, with a face like a fury. She shoved him hard in the chest.
‘What did you do to her?’
‘If you mean Giselle, nothing? What did she say I did?’
‘She is covered in bruises.’
‘Not inflicted by me. Well, not all of them. I may have grabbed her once or twice, in anger, but it was not my intention to hurt her.’
‘What else did you do, Lyall?’
He knew he had to lie to save Giselle’s honour, if not his own. ‘Nothing.’
Ravenna narrowed her eyes. ‘You may lie to your brother if you like, but I know you, Lyall Buchanan, and you’ve never been one to resist a bonnie lass. Take my counsel, stay away from Giselle, and get the ransom as soon as may be. Then send her south and away from us. She may be a prisoner, but you shall not use her ill and behave like a lecher.’
Ravenna stormed off, and Lyall stood rooted to the spot. Her words had hit their mark. He was ashamed of himself.
Cormac came up and clapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘What was all that about?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Women - always vexed about something. Now come and butcher this beast, so that we can have a hearty supper.’