In the great hall that evening Ailsa sat pale-faced hardly eating anything. It seemed any conversation anyone tried to make with her drove her to the edge of tears. Duncan could not decide if she was ill or if having been found out in her deception, she was now facing the awful reality that both Hamish and Robert had gone and she was trapped in a marriage to someone she hated.
Either way, seething with rage and disappointment, Duncan did not know how to proceed. If it had been anyone else other than that cur, whom he had always despised as a weak fool. He now saw his wife’s deception through a twisted lens of jealousy, imagining the two of them together, furtive looks, and hushed conversations in secret corners. Had she told her lover what a disgusting brute he was for forcing her into his bed? Had she confided her revulsion at having to give her body to her enemy? Had they laughed at the words of love he had uttered? What a pathetic creature he must seem compared to the man she really wanted - handsome, charming Hamish McDougall.
Late that night some cruel impulse made Duncan go to Ailsa, though he knew he was only causing himself pain. He climbed the stairs to her chamber in abject misery, scarce believing that the happiness and certainty of a few days ago had been replaced with doubt and disappointment.
The night before their parting at he had arrived at a place where he was ready to believe she cared something for him and he had left her bed willing to do anything for her, to die for her.
He crept into the chamber and looked down on Ailsa sleeping, fingers tangled in her hair spread out on the pillow like a coppery waterfall, so peaceful, so innocent. He dearly wanted to set aside his anger and climb in next to her, to hold her in the darkness and forget the bloody fight he had just survived, to let its horrors recede. He wanted to beg forgiveness for his harsh words. He wanted to believe that she could feel something genuine for him.
But who knew what dark plots and resentments swirled in that pretty little head. It would be weak to be blinded by her charms and what she did to him when they were abed, so instead, he allowed his uncle’s accusations to corrode his trust in her. The nightmares would come now and there was nothing to be done about it. He deserved it for he was a monster who could give love but who was not worthy of receiving it. The rest of the night was spent prowling the dark corners of Dunslair in the hopes of finding some peace but it did not come.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day they set off for Cailleach. Duncan rode at the head of his men, looking back in her direction frequently and Ailsa dearly wished to make amends, but the look on his face when their eyes met was clearly a warning not to try. She should confront him, demand that he listen to her but she was so cast down she could not muster the courage or the words to ask forgiveness. So instead, she held her tongue and the ride seemed to go on forever, dragging out her misery to the point where every bone and muscle seemed to be screaming. Surely his affection for her would drive out the anger? But no words passed between them on the wretched journey home and after a day and a night, it was a blessed relief to see the mellow stone walls of Cailleach.
Inside the castle, at last, Duncan came over to her and helped her dismount. ‘Are you unwell?’ he said in the flat voice of a stranger.
‘No I am tired that is all.’ Ailsa could barely find the strength to speak to him, battling awful nausea and misery.
‘Go to your room and get some rest.’
She tried to catch his eye, to look for some sign of his anger softening towards her but Rory rushed out to greet him and then he was gone. Later that day Ailsa heard that the Laird had left the castle with no word as to when he would return.
Duncan sharpened his sword in a brooding silence. Rory dared not interrupt his thoughts, which if the thunderous look on his face was anything to go by, were very dark indeed.
‘You should mend fences with Ailsa, go to her and get to the truth of it.’
‘I cannot and anyway she will not want to talk to me, she has her secrets to keep you see.’ He continued working on his sword, scrape, scrape, scrape as the stone scoured the steel to a lethal edge.
‘That savours heavily of bitterness my friend.’
Duncan glowered at Rory who rose to Ailsa’s defence. ‘She does not deserve such scorn, Duncan.’
‘You know nothing of us Rory, or of her. She has played me false.’
‘You do not know that. Are you really going to give credence to your uncle’s allegations? I know Ailsa…’
‘You do not, nor do I, no matter that I have lain with her these past months, cherished and protected her, claimed her as my own. Ailsa has led me by the nose like a willing bull all this time and broken my trust. We have already had this out and I will discuss it no more Rory.’
‘Well I will discuss it, damn it, and I will be permitted to speak in the lady’s defence. I heard from the servants hereabouts that when the castle was lost Ailsa had plenty of time to flee but refused to abandon Cailleach, said her dear departed father would turn in his grave at such cowardice. So she stayed and faced you, not an easy task. If McDougall was her lover why did she not run to him for protection? If she had any love for that scoundrel don’t you think she would have thrown all away to be with him? Sounds to me like the fool stole a kiss and for that, he deserves a good thrashing but Ailsa love Hamish, plot with Hamish? I cannot believe it.’
‘Maybe she is calculating enough to try to have it all – her lands and her lover.’
‘Oh so now she’s duped you into marrying her to retain her lands. You are throwing away happiness with both hands man. Aye, she has some fondness for McDougall but he is a remnant of an old life and that is all. If you don’t relent my friend then you will regret it for I know in my bones that Ailsa is not the betraying kind.’
‘Aye but the problem is I do not know it, Rory.’
‘Then you are a jealous fool, Duncan. Your uncle may offer up his poison but you do not have to swallow it. He has always had a dim view of women as you well know.’
‘Trust is not something you give away lightly because of a pretty face Rory.’
‘Nor is it something you withhold in order to nurse past grievances. If you can’t trust her then that is your weakness to conquer, not hers. Do you want to be Laird of the MacLeods? Rory asked, in exasperation at Duncan’s stubbornness.
‘What are you saying fool?’
‘If you want to be Laird of Clan MacLeod you must start by trusting its most important member. Ailsa is the key to your success here. We are beset by enemies trying to undermine your rule; they want this union to fail and if you believe she has played you false then it will. Trust in yourself and what you know in your gut to be true.’
‘I no longer know what is true’ raged Duncan, flinging his sword down in frustration.