Chapter Sixteen
‘There, now you are fit to be seen, said Ravenna, standing back to survey her handiwork. She had spent an age brushing Giselle’s hair, and tearing out half of it, or so it felt like, to get the knots out. It now hung down in a shiny loose plait. It was clean at last.
Giselle regarded her dim reflection in the metal mirror. The dark blue dress they had given her was soft on her skin, where it clung to her body. She looked like Lady Giselle de Villers again, and that was no bad thing, as she needed to remember who she was amongst these people. Prisoner, she may be, no matter Ravenna’s rough kindness, but she would not cower.
When she entered the hall with Ravenna, all eyes turned to her.
Lyall caught his breath when he saw Giselle. This was not the lass he’d lain down in the dirt with. This was an elegant, young woman, graceful, comely and refined. In her blue dress, with her hair tidied up, she looked every inch the wealthy baron’s daughter. And though he wanted her, with every fibre of his being, Giselle de Villers did not deign to look in his direction.
The tense silence, which followed her arrival was broken by Morna. ‘Come and sit by me, Giselle, for I long to learn about life in England.’
Lyall glowered at his sister, but she ignored him and patted the end of the bench beside her.
‘Are English men more handsome than Scots?’ she asked as Giselle sat down. ‘I am sure they must be, for Scotland is full of ruffians and cutthroats. There are no men to be had for husbands any more, now the English have slaughtered all the good ones.’
Giselle’s face reddened. Morna could be maddening sometimes. Though they were of a similar age, Lyall was sure Giselle would never have been as outspoken as his sister.
‘Enough of this talk of war,’ he snapped. ‘We have an English guest, and we should have a mind to her feelings, and you should show some courtesy, Morna.’
Cormac turned to Giselle. ‘Forgive my sister her tart tongue, her ire is for her brothers, not for you. You sit too far from the fire, lass, come and sit beside me.’
Giselle did as she was bid, and everyone moved along the benches to accommodate her. Morna began tearing lumps off a hunk of bread and shooting dirty looks at Cormac. Ramsay came in with a platter of roast venison and put it down, with a hard bang, just in front of Giselle.
‘You must also forgive my taskman, Ramsay,’ said Cormac. ‘He has all the subtlety of a charging boar. You might guess he has a grudge against the English.’
Across the table from Lyall, Giselle sat, red-faced and tense. The urge to reach out and touch her was overwhelming. Instead, he tried to catch her eye and, when he did, she swallowed hard and looked away.
‘Why are you not eating?’ he whispered as the conversation grew around them.
‘I’ve no appetite. I would be more comfortable eating alone in my chamber.’
‘Do you hate us all that much, then?’ he said, with a sinking heart.
‘I don’t belong here.’
‘Giselle, tell us about your home at Ravensworth,’ boomed Cormac.
What the hell was Cormac doing, singling her?
Giselle began to speak hesitantly as all eyes turned to her. ‘Well, it is not as big as Beharra, nor as grand, and we’ve no fortifications to match yours, Laird Buchanan,’ she said softly. ‘Our manor house at Ravensworth sits amongst green hills, folding into each other as far as the eye can see, and there is lush farmland and forest all around too, thick with deer and boar.’
‘So, good hunting then?’ said Cormac.
‘Yes, but the terrain is easier to navigate and not so rugged. Though from what I have seen so far, Scotland has beautiful countryside, deep glens, glittering lochs, fearsomely high mountains, which take your breath away.’
Lyall frowned in surprise.
‘So, Scotland finds some favour with you, Giselle?’ said Cormac, with a sideways glance in his brother’s direction.
‘Yes, it is wild but very beautiful.’
‘Aye, like my wife over there and, like Ravenna, this country has a way of taking hold of your heart and never letting go.’
Ravenna rolled her eyes. ‘You should find yourself a bed, Cormac for I fear you are in your cups to be speaking so,’ she said.
‘Aye, are you offering, woman?’
‘Not just yet, we have a mountain of food to get through first, not that I can eat much, for my stomach is so swollen with your next son.’