‘Ailsa,’ he growled.
There was frustration, teasing and a warning in that sound that he could not suppress. He could tell, immediately, Ailsa took all those emotions as truth. ‘Am I the reason you do not want to return home?’
He didn’t want to return to Lochmore Castle because he didn’t believehebelonged there, not her. Never her, yet his family had not given him the brooches. They did not acknowledge his marriage. They did not acknowledge her. ‘Lochmore clan will adore you despite your past as a McCrieff.’
‘My past,’ she scoffed.
So much separated their families. So much might separate their future. It was a great weight that had been placed ontheirshoulders. ‘Will the past...will a story always separate our clans despite what we do?’
She sighed and he felt her warm breath against his chest. ‘Despite how many babies we have, it seems one McCrieff babe may always haunt our lands.’
‘McCrieff babe?’
‘The baby from the Great Feud.’
Surely she couldn’t believe the baby born seventy years ago was a McCrieff. Rory shifted to get a better view of her, but Ailsa held firm to him and all he could see in the dark were the tendrils of her hair against his chest and her hand, gently roughened from years of tending gardens, laid flat against his stomach. Though he dearly wanted to see her expression, he didn’t dare dislodge himself from her hold.
‘Wearetalking of the Great Feud?’ He kept his voice light.
‘Unless you know another one?’
This couldn’t be. Ailsa was so straightforward. Direct. She didn’t lie ever and she didn’t tolerate any falsehoods either. So for her to believe the baby to be a McCrieff and not a Lochmore was something she thought was the truth.
‘You believe the baby to be McCrieff’s versus Lochmore’s? Tell me.’
She glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting amusement and confusion. ‘That’s how the story was told to me. I believe it to be true.’
It never dawned on him that the story could be different. But why? It was naïve to think otherwise. ‘I want to hear it as you were told.’
‘You don’t sound as if you do.’
‘You’ve surprised me is all. Again.’
She patted his chest and settled her head down. ‘Well, then. The McCrieff Chief loved her. Wanted to marry her. I think she was scared and went back to her clan and married Lochmore’s Chief.’
Rory placed his hand on hers. ‘So the baby—?’
‘Was certainly McCrieff’s. Why else would he have flown to Lochmore land and challenged him when they both died?’
‘McCrieff challenged Lochmore because he was spurned. Because of his pride. Because the woman he cast aside found happiness and he couldn’t tolerate it.’
Ailsa propped herself up to look at him. ‘That woman broke his heart. He let her go because he loved her, but that babe was his. He knew it as sure as anything.’
‘Never.’
‘Thus, the McCrieff–Lochmore Great Feud continues between us. Except...’ Ailsa started. ‘We could end it. Between us.’
Rory couldn’t see how it was possible. ‘Once Hamish dies, Frederick will rule.’
‘Yes, but as much as I don’t want to talk of it, once his rule is done, Frederick will have free rein. I think he was waiting for you. I think that’s why he invited you here.’
‘He invited me?’ Rory asked. ‘He almost started a war by ignoring a king’s decree and a chief’s missive.’
‘Possibly,’ she said. ‘But you have to admit, it was rather clever.’
‘Your father certainly saved face by marrying you to me to justify the giving of such precious lands,’ Rory said.
‘Do you mean that?’
