Face burning with mortification and before she could stop herself, Ailsa delivered him a stinging slap across the face. Before he could recover she slipped from his grasp and ran behind the tavern limping horribly on the swollen ankle, desperate to escape through the maze of meagre dwellings which she knew like the back of her hand.
Duncan did not follow her. He rubbed his face ruefully, the laughter of his friends ringing in his ears. He took their jests in good spirit. It was not the first time a woman had slapped him and it wasn’t the first time he had deserved it either. Though not keen to let go of such a beauty, he had a duty of courtesy to fulfil with Laird MacLeod and could not tarry longer. He had taken the honourable course and brought her home safe when all he had really wanted to do was lose himself in kissing her and spend the night pressing that soft, ripe body against his.
When he had plucked her from the mud and brushed back her hair Duncan had been stunned at how pretty she was. She had a lovely heart-shaped face of exquisite delicacy and symmetry. And those eyes, a dazzling green, the colour of ripe gooseberries, flecked with gold. A man could lose himself in such eyes. It would have been a joy just to stare at her all day long let alone anything else.
Was she an innocent or just pretending to be to season the chase? He’d find out later but first, he had a duty to fulfil. After that, he could pursue his pleasure. At least there was now a challenge to excite him, something to lighten the tedium of this mission he’d been compelled to undertake for his uncle. A girl looking like that would not be hard to find and when they next met he fully intended to use his charm and good looks to break down her defences and make her his. If he was rejected then so be it; there was no shortage of women eager to share his bed. This one was quite lovely though and Duncan wasn’t accustomed to defeat.
Chapter Two
‘You need to be more careful Ailsa,’ said Morag tugging hard with a comb on her sister’s mane of tangled hair as hail and a bitter wind rattled against the shutters. ‘Those men could have been thieves or murderers or …’
‘Much worse than that, they were arrogant, domineering idiots. How is it that men think they can order us around and that we will do exactly as they wish? Why do we have to please them all the time? Why can’t we please ourselves? Our brother gets to do exactly as he wants and no one seems to mind that he spends his time whoring and gambling and pickling himself in whisky.’
‘Aye, it seems unfair I know. And Ailsa, father is trying to curb Robert’s wild ways. But you may as well accept it, men rule the world and that is the way things are.’
‘It’s the wrong way and is that what you really think? When you are married will you just obey your husband without question?’
‘Yes, when I say my marriage vows then that is what I am pledging before God. But if he is kind and gentle and loving to me I won’t mind. He will protect me from the dangers of the world and I will love him and keep his household and bear his children.’
‘And what if he is cruel and stupid andunloving?’
Morag retaliated for this last comment by pulling unmercifully on her sister’s hair. ‘He’s not. I don’t know William Strathairn very well but I can tell he is a good, honourable man and I like him. In fact, I think I may come to love him.’ Morag blushed scarlet and looked away.
Ailsa studied her sister carefully. Was she worried about a future with this man whom she had only met a handful of times and never been completely alone with? Her sister seemed infatuated with her betrothed and obviously attracted to him in some way. Ailsa didn’t know whether to be relieved that Morag had hope of happiness in her marriage or be shocked at her blind obedience and naiveté. Her sister was a gentle soul, kind and pretty and she would make any man happy but she was always trying to please others rather than herself.
‘There little sister, you are finally clean,’ said Morag getting up to leave. ‘Get yourself before the fire or you’ll not dry your hair by this evening, it’s so thick. Now you’d better make yourself presentable and behave tonight or there’ll be more trouble.’
‘Morag, you’ll not tell on me…about my meeting those men I mean.’
‘No I’ll not do that. It’s just as well mother knows nothing of it. And thank goodness Fingal found his way home. Scampering about the countryside alone is quite enough to raise her ire let alone being seen in the company of strangers and dangerous ones at that by the sound of it. Thank the lord they brought you home safe. They could have done anything with you, stolen you away or dishonoured you or worse. You could have broken yourself with that fall and be lying out in the woods now at the mercy of wolves and boars and goodness knows what else. You must curb your rebellious nature Ailsa or one day it will lead you down a dark path.’
Ailsa placed a playful kiss on her sister’s cheek. ‘Don’t chide me for we do not have much more time together. Oh, Morag I will miss you sorely when you leave.’
‘That is because I keep your secrets,’ she replied smiling.
Ailsa’s luck had run out on her re-entry to the castle. She’d managed to sneak in via the kitchens and up the back stairway to her chamber only to find her mother waiting for her. Hesther MacLeod had been incandescent with rage and had administered a sound thrashing with the birch. Despite dodging nimbly out of the way of the harder blows Ailsa had stinging buttocks from where the keener ones had landed. The tongue lashing had been much worse, her mother having berated her, for what seemed like an eternity, on her shortcomings. On top of all that she had been forced to have a very long bath. She was sure her mother had ordered the servants to take her skin off along with the mud they had scrubbed so harshly.
Luckily Hesther had declared that her father would not be told as he had too much to worry about at the moment, whatever that meant! Ailsa determined to seek him out later and ask him about his troubles. Her father was indulgent of his youngest daughter, she was his pet, his favourite and he admired her rebellious spirit much to the annoyance of her mother.
Several hours later Ailsa had been primped and preened to within an inch of her life and was ready to ‘grace the great hall with her presence’, as her mother put it. Her sister’s wedding celebrations were a great moment for the MacLeod’s, eager to show off their wealth and influence amongst the clans. Tonight they were to have a feast to welcome their many guests and her father, a richlandowner and warrior chief had gone all out to make an impression to the extent that Ailsa gasped when she entered the hall.
The vaulted ceiling was set aglow by hundreds of candles, rows of blazing torches set against the walls and the light from a great fire burning in the soot-blackened hearth. Fragrant garlands of heather, gorse and wildflowers garnished the great stone pillars and the walls were colourful with freshly dusted tapestries. The room was packed to bursting point with guests in their finery, milling and jostling each other for a spot near the front where clan chief Gordon MacLeod oversaw proceedings with a firm hand. Ailsa felt hot and giddy with excitement.
From his massive oak chair on a raised dais, her father looked down on the throng. He was a belligerent bear of a man, big boned and hard-faced, with a shock of thick auburn hair. Though he was turning to fat in the autumn of his life and was of an unruly appearance, this masked a keen intelligence and cunning. Ailsa rushed up to him and draped an affectionate arm over his shoulders.
‘So many people father I wonder how they all fit in.’ Ailsa had to shout over the gaggle of voices filling the hall.
‘Aye, lass, they are all keen to honour the union of Morag and William and of course, to seek favours of me.’
‘And will you grant them?’
‘Aye, they depend on my being in a good mood at such a time and so they strike,’ he laughed jovially. ‘They’ve most of them no more cunning than a sheep so I know full well what they are about.’
Ailsa bent to hug her father and kiss his cheek. ‘Mother said you were beset with worries. What troubles you father?’
‘Away with you now, don’t fash yourself with it,’ he said with mock impatience but smiling broadly. ‘Go and find some enjoyment before your mother ambushes you with another avid suitor for you to repel.’
Ailsa left his side and searched the crowded hall for friends and relatives. Unfortunately, she was almost immediately set upon by her mother and dragged into a line flanking her father’s chair alongside other high ranking clan members and various elegantly adorned ladies. The heads of visiting clans were to present themselves to the laird of the castle and express their allegiance, each taking his turn in order of precedence. ‘Time to be put on show,’ thought Ailsa rebelliously