The Laird's Captive Wife by Joanna Fulford

of us tomorrow.’ With that he turned to go.
    At those words all her earlier desperation revived and she caught hold of his arm. ‘Why will you not leave me here? Surely the price of one more slave matters little to you.’
    ‘I told you that the matter is not open to further discussion.’
    ‘I disagree.’
    His hands closed on her shoulders, drawing her closer. The dark gaze bored into hers. ‘Your opinion on the subject is irrelevant. I am the law here and you’ll do as you’re told.’
    Ashlynn bit back the angry denial that sprang to her lips. He was the law here, every last arrogant inch of him. He was also very strong and much too close for comfort. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her clothing and the curbed anger behind his gaze. His face came much nearer to hers. Dangerously near. If he bent his head their lips would touch. The realisation both shocked and excited.
    ‘Do you understand me?’
    ‘I…yes.’.
    ‘I hope for your sake that you do, lass.’
    Unable to think of anything to say Ashlynn remained silent. He had half-expected her to argue further but when she did not the anger faded from his eyes and was replaced by something else entirely, something she could not name but which sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with winter cold. Iain leaned closer, breathing the smell of wool and sweet air from her clothing and beneath it, the scent of the woman, subtle and arousing. The response caught him unawares and he drew a deep breath, mentally upbraiding himself. There could be no dalliance here, however tempting the thought might be. Slowly he pulled away from her.
    ‘I must leave you now for I have other matters to attend to,’ he said then. ‘Get some rest, Ashlynn.’
    His hands relinquished their hold and she was free. She remained quite still, watching him cross the room. He paused a moment on the threshold.
    ‘If you require anything else let the servant know.’
    As the door closed behind him she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. She tried the latch anyway. The door didn’t budge. For a moment she leaned against it, listening to the sound of his departing footsteps. When at length they died away she moved slowly back to the hearth and warmed herself before the fire, staring down into the flames, her thoughts in chaos.
    * * *
    Some time later the servant reappeared with a tray of food: good white bread and a large earthen pot of a fragrant meaty stew. She ate all of it for the long ride had sharpened her appetite. The food did a great deal to banish the chill and restore her spirits. By the time she had finished it was full dark and the edges of the room were blurred in shadow. She glanced at the bed. There seemed little else to do save sleep but at least it would be a welcome oblivion. Removing her cloak she undressed to her shirt and then curled up beneath the fur coverlets.
    * * *
    Having left Ashlynn’s chamber Iain was heading for his own quarters when he met Dougal.
    ‘Are the men settled?’
    ‘Aye, my lord.’
    ‘And the injured?’
    ‘They too.’
    ‘What of the lad we found at Heslingfield?’
    ‘In poor case. If it hadn’t been for the cold slowing the blood loss, he’d have died long before we found him.’ Dougal paused. ‘Have you told her?’
    ‘No. She believes that all her kin were slain.’
    ‘You really think he is kin? He might be just a servant.’
    ‘They’re related all right,’ Iain replied. ‘The likeness is too pronounced.’
    ‘Well then, perhaps it is better she believes him dead like the others. Frankly, I doubt he’ll survive and then she’d only have to go through it all again.’
    Visualising the destruction he had witnessed at Heslingfield when they rode by, Iain nodded. ‘She’s been through enough just now. Let’s wait on events. He might survive after all.’
    ‘Aye, perhaps. If he does, it’ll come as a happy surprise to her, won’t it? Happy for us too were you inclined to sell him on