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‘I don’t think either of us believes that Ailsa. You saved my life once. You didn’t do that for nothing and at your sister’s wedding, when we kissed and you clung to me, you wanted me I am sure of it.’
‘Well you may be arrogant enough to believe I wanted you then, but you can be sure I don’t want you now and you may never do that to me again.’
He took a step back and away from her as if recoiling from a blow. ‘Compose yourself and I will send a servant to bring you to the great hall’. Then he fixed her with his dark brooding glare which cut into her like a knife. ‘Don’t make me come back for you,’ he said. ‘If you insist on testing the limits of my patience you will find it is not inexhaustible.’
The banquet was a blur of emotions after that. With shaking hands Ailsa managed to make herself presentable, splashing water on her face which was still burning with anger and shame and arranging her hair into a hasty bun. With her family’s honour to uphold, such as was left of it, she must compose herself. A servant arrived and she was escorted to the great hall. Squaring her shoulders she entered its bustle and heat with her head held high.
It was quite an entrance. Everyone was already seated and she saw with dismay that there was an empty chair next to Laird Hugh at the high table, so she would have to sit in full view of all her tormentors. Duncan was sitting next to him staring morosely into his glass. As she was escorted to her place a hush descended as the guests strained their necks to get a good look at her. They stared with open curiosity and without respect for many of them were not her people, they were of Clan Campbell, Hugh and Duncan’s associates and confidantes who had come to Cailleach to see the spoils of victory. The women looked for flaws but in her radiant skin, soft curves and burnished hair they met with disappointment. The men regarded her with either lust or pity depending on their disposition.
Duncan could hardly look at Ailsa at all, a mixture of shame, anger and desire warring in his head. He noticed the leering glances of some of his clansmen and hated himself. He was no better than them, a rough, lecherous creature she wanted to hide from. She had been so joyous and free when first he had laid eyes on her. Her beauty had delighted and mesmerised him and now she was reduced to a frightened, helpless thing – a bird in a cage and he had just behaved like an animal. He reached for his whisky glass to deaden his remorse and self-loathing.
As Ailsa took in the sumptuous banquet laid before her she felt sickened. The villagers were going hungry but Hugh had spared no expense on his guests. The tables groaned with elaborately prepared food, capons, pheasant, roasted piglets and a generous array of fish - pike, bream and salmon, plucked from Cailleach’s loch and surrounding rivers. The smell of mutton flavoured with fennel and rosemary from a nearby pot tempted Ailsa’s palate but she could not bring herself to eat a bite. Around her, the other guests gorged themselves to bursting like pigs at a trough and washed it all down with freshly brewed ale and fine wines, imported at great expense from France. Ailsa was disgusted with their gluttony.
She was trapped between Hugh and one of his cronies, a sullen, foul-breathed old Campbell devotee who made little effort to be courteous to a conquered MacLeod. Hugh, on the other hand, insisted on forcing conversation on her.
‘Is my nephew treating you well my lady?’ he asked, patting her hand in a fatherly manner.
Ailsa quickly withdrew it. ‘I am treated as well as can be expected under the circumstances Laird Hugh with traditional Campbell hospitality, as is my brother I believe.’ She didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, though she was aware that she was dealing with a formidable and dangerous man.
‘Hah, a spirited reply’ he exclaimed ‘You have your father’s reckless tongue and I don’t suppose you are enjoying the sight of us in your ancestral home to be sure. Nor does your hapless brother enjoy the dungeons of Dunslair.’
Ailsa drew in a sharp breath.
‘Fear not, he is well treated and he will in all probability escape with his life. He is such a weakling it hardly seems worth the trouble of stretching his neck,’ he said with casual cruelty.
‘When will you release him?’
‘Soon, if your clan comes to heel and accepts Duncan as laird and when you MacLeods have pledged fealty to the Campbells. You know your father never gave me the respect I deserved but by God, I’ll have it now. He was always ready with the snub or the sly insult to Clan Campbell, undermining me behind my back.’
‘My father was never sly; he was an honourable man.’
‘Aye, very honourable and much good it did him. Where is your clan now, your brother, your land and your castle? Firmly in my fist, that’s where, exactly where I always meant them to be.’
Ailsa dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. How many more insults was she supposed to bear? ‘It’s strange Laird that you harbour such a grudge against a man who rarely spoke of you. I can barely recall his ever mentioning you to me though we often discussed such matters.’
Her barb did not hit its mark. ‘I knew your father very well,’ replied Hugh smugly. ‘That surprises you doesn’t it? Knew your mother well too.’
‘How?’ asked Ailsa in alarm.
‘She was intended for me. A fine looking woman in her day she was and she came with a rich bounty of land and wealth and a good family name. Aye, I looked forward tohavingher as my bride.’
Ailsa squirmed at the disgusting way Hugh hissed out these last words. ‘Are you saying there was an understanding between you?’
‘Nothing formal but she knew I wanted her, I left her in no doubt about that and I made overtures to her family. Would have been successful too had not handsome Gordon MacLeod entered the fray. I don’t think he was particularly partial to her, your father, but he had enough of the looks and the swagger about him and Hester was clod-headed enough to believe she was in love with him. He was always an arrogant bastard. He knew she was mine but he took her anyway.’
‘Lucky for her I’d say,’ retorted Ailsa horrified that this awful man might have been her father.
Hugh leant over and whispered into her ear, his hot whisky breath on her neck. ‘Guard that sharp tongue of yours girl. My nephew is too indulgent of women’s weakness, but I am of a different ilk. One day you will learn to obey and show me the respect I deserve.’
‘Then I hope you have a plentiful supply of patience Laird Hugh for you might have a long wait for that day to come.’
He laughed, loud and braying like a donkey. ‘You are your father’s daughter to be sure. You have his pride and insolence in good measure. But mark me, shake off that MacLeod arrogance as it will serve you ill now. Obey my nephew in all things. He has let you have your head so far but cross him and he will punish you. Sooner or later you will be brought to heel my bonny little bitch whether you like it or not.’
With that, he turned from her to Duncan and asked loudly, ‘How do you find the lady Ailsa? Was there ever a bonnier face seen in all the Highlands? A great beauty is she not?
‘Of course, she is!’ snapped Duncan, looking at Ailsa for the first time since she had taken her seat and giving his uncle a hard look.
‘And what do you think of my nephew Ailsa? A fine looking fellow, is he not? He’ll breed fine sons one day to be sure.’ Ailsa could only look helplessly down at her plate, indignation writhing inside her.
