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‘Forgive me, I have alarmed you when I meant to offer assistance and comfort.’
Ailsa felt Hamish was dancing around his point, trying to warn her of danger without actually saying it.
‘I am weary that is all and I am not thinking straight. There are troubles at home. My father is ailing and my brothers fight amongst themselves. These are trying times for us all.’ He looked at her tenderness and pity. ‘I hate to see you in this situation Ailsa, indeed, I cannot bear it.’
Ailsa felt a quietening in the hall and was suddenly aware of many eyes fixed on their conversation. They were being very foolhardy talking together like this.
‘Why do they have to stare so Hamish?’
‘They stare because they are all mesmerised by your beauty, especially Duncan Campbell. He is watching you now.’
‘Aye, he stares at me like a hawk stares at its prey before swooping and crushing the life out of it.’
Hamish’s face darkened at this. ‘Does he have designs on you perhaps?
‘On making me miserable with his presence here yes,’ replied Ailsa. She was too ashamed to admit to Hamish what had passed between them earlier. Ailsa risked a glance around the hall and sure enough, Duncan’s penetrating stare was firmly fixed on her. Those dark eyes seemed to bore right into her and she was brought back to the corridor and the cold of the stone pressed against her back and his hot mouth on hers.
‘Ailsa,’ said Hamish, quietly bringing her back from the turmoil of her dark thoughts, ‘he is a ruthless man, be on your guard and stay away from him.’
‘I will….of course I will. I loathe him.’
Hamish’s mood seemed to lighten then. ‘Gods, look at these monstrous old Campbell hags hating you for being so beautiful. You are a pearl before swine’
Ailsa laughed at him, feeling lighter than she had for weeks in the company of a trusted friend and encouraged he continued.
‘You must give me leave to stare at you Ailsa for I swear you are lovely tonight. He took her hand. ‘I am quite undone by your beauty’.
It was as though they were the only two people in the room. He gave a courtly bow and kissed her hand, a gesture of defiance which brought a disapproving murmuring from those around them. Ailsa was touched by his concern for her and gave him a warm smile in return for it really was good to see him.
From the other end of the hall, Duncan watched them with a face like thunder. The voices and laughter and music around him faded to nothing. Jealousy twisted its way like an evil snake around his heart. He wanted to take his claymore and slice the life out of Hamish McDougall. The vast quantity of whisky he had downed had done little to dull his sense of shame and now it merely fuelled his anger and resentment.
She was smiling and laughing with that preening fop, enjoying the compliments that no doubt slipped off his oily tongue. She would never look at him that way; she would never show him any warmth or kindness. To her, he was a mindless barbarian, sick with lust, his hands stained with the blood of her clansmen. And worst of all he realised that in spite of this he could not bear to see her sold to another man to further his uncle’s ambitions. She feared him but he wanted to protect her, she hated him but he wanted to make her happy. He had a sickness in his soul which only she could cure.
Duncan warred with himself, his honourable side fighting his desire for her. Finally, with the whisky burning in his empty belly, he accepted what he had been denying to himself all along, that he wanted Ailsa for himself, that he wanted her warming his bed and that he needed her to want him in return. He realised he simply could not bear for another man to have her and though it could be the ruin of them both he determined to have her and be damned.
Making his first hasty decision in many years, one which came from his heart instead of his head, he crossed the hall to his uncle. ‘I’ll do it’ he declared. ‘I’ll make her my bride though she’ll probably murder me in my sleep’.
A wide grin spread across Hugh’s face and he stood on the dais, tapping his tankard and shouting for quiet.
‘My lords and ladies, I have an announcement.’ Their laird seemed excited so the occupants of the hall took notice. ‘Refill your glasses for we need a toast.’ There was a short bustling delay as whisky was administered.
‘In order to secure a lasting peace hereabouts my fine, brave nephew Duncan has chosen to put his head into the marital noose. Let us raise our glasses to his chosen bride – the lady Ailsa MacLeod. May they have many fine sons.’
All eyes turned to Ailsa. The colour drained from her face and she looked at Hamish, his face stricken. Then she glanced across at Duncan and saw in his dark devil eyes a steely determination. Without thinking she grabbed onto Hamish for support as her legs threatened to go from under her. Duncan had her. The trap had closed around her and her fate was sealed. Somehow she managed to turn on her heel and walk out of the hall as a hush fell over it.
When she reached the relative sanctuary of her chamber and bolted the door, Ailsa fell shivering into her bed and passed a cold, desperate night, thoughts running through her head, round and round, like a thousand scurrying beetles. Finally, tormented to exhaustion she fell asleep only to be woken by the dawn light with the jolting realisation of her impossible, miserable situation. Marriage to Duncan Campbell would make her defeat absolute so she had to resist it at all costs.
Chapter Seven
Duncan had already decided he would brook no opposition to his plans. Ailsa would not be given in marriage to another man and he sought her out the morning after the banquet to apologise for his uncle’s announcement. His proposal had been put before her in the worse possible way. Instead of setting out his credentials as a prospective husband and gently convincing her of the many advantages a union with him, she had been ambushed and given no choice in the matter. For this, he was sorry and wanted to make amends. He did not make a good start.
He found her up on the battlements where he had first stolen a kiss, staring out at the hills beyond, impervious to the strong wind whipping up her hair and making it fly. She flinched when he called out to her and her reddened eyes and shaking hands confirmed what he feared, she hated him and it stung him that she should feel that way.
‘We have to marry Ailsa,’ he began in a tone of command.
‘I don’t want to marry you. The very thought of it repels me,’ she replied.
‘I don’t doubt that but we’ll be wed all the same lass, whether you like it or not. Our union will unite the clans and our sons will secure its future.’
