‘Your keep?’
‘Yes, I have been learning how Beharra runs, and Morna and Ravenna have been kind enough to teach me. Truly, I am happiest working here, where I am helping.’
‘Right. Good,’ he said. Giselle was trembling under his touch.
‘You were gone a good while, Lyall.’ She pulled her hand away.
‘Aye, we were visiting local clans hereabouts, and they insisted on extending their hospitality.’ Much more than hospitality, he thought, as Isla’s half-naked body slid into his mind. No, he would not think of that lass now, next to Giselle. He would not pollute the perfect innocence of this girl before him with the memory of Isla’s base charms.
‘Did you miss me, Giselle?’
‘You already asked me that,’ she said, eyeing him warily. ‘You left without saying goodbye, so I had no choice but to miss you.’
‘Aye, well, I was in a fury with myself.’
‘Was it because of what I did…let you do, I mean.’ She bit her lip hard and looked down at the ground. ‘Do you think ill of me, Lyall? Have I shamed myself in your eyes?’
‘No, no, that was all my doing,’ he said, bringing his hand to her cheek. ‘You could never shame yourself before me.’
She smiled. ‘In that case, I have to own that I have missed you, Lyall. It has been very lonely around here, though Ravenna and Morna have been kind. And, captor or not, I am glad you are home safe.’
‘I can be more than your captor, Giselle.’
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head with a tenderness that surprised him.
‘Lyall Buchanan,’ came a shout from outside. It was a woman’s voice, shrill with anger.
He froze, his jaw tightening.
‘Lyall Buchanan, I know you are in there, so come out and face me.’
He stormed outside and was confronted with a blonde woman with a squalling brat braced against her hip. Her face was dirty, hair matted, like dead grass in winter, clothes almost rags, and she was bone thin.
‘Lyall?’ He heard Giselle come alongside him.
The woman glowered in Giselle’s direction and then turned to him and sneered, ‘I heard you had an English whore in tow. Is this her?’
‘Rhoslyn, what are you doing here?’
‘I heard you were back, so I came to see for myself how you shame me.’
‘Rhoslyn, we have had this out before.’ Lyall noticed Cormac watching, from across the yard.
‘You shame me, Lyall, bringing this harlot into Beharra and bedding her for all to gossip and snigger about it. She is a whore, and she is English. How can you spurn me for her?’ Her voice rose, bringing onlookers closer.
‘I do not spurn you, Rhoslyn.’ He held out a hand to her, but she took a step back. The child started to cry louder.
‘How could you leave me to fend for myself, while you go and take your pleasure of other women? You are a heartless fiend, Lyall Buchanan, and she is the Devil’s whore.’
She came closer to Giselle, who was staring at her, wide-eyed.
‘I curse you, whore,’ spat Rhoslyn. ‘I curse you to hell and all its furies. The Devil will come and take you, for that is what you are, a whore of Satan.’
‘Enough, Rhoslyn!’ he shouted, getting between her and Giselle.
She fell against him. ‘Will you not come back to me, Lyall,’ her voice was wheedling and pathetic. ‘Will you not come back, if not for my sake, for the sake of your child.’
Lyall glanced back at Giselle. The look on her face was awful as she turned and ran from him.