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‘Certainly not! Oh, my parents thought them fine prospects but a bigger bunch of halfwits you would be hard pressed to find anywhere.’
He looked quizzically up at her. ‘How so?’
‘Most were callow youths, titled and grand of course, but so wet behind the ears they could barely sit a horse. One had barely any teeth left in his head and he was only twenty years old! Another was so pompous and stuffed full of his own importance I could barely endure beyond a moment in his company and he was old enough to be my father! There were fat ones, thin ones, old friends of my father, old enemies of my father! They couldn’t have been richer and they couldn’t have been duller.’
She was warming to her subject now and seemed to feel the need to unburden herself to him. ‘There were some handsome ones too, of course, my mother is not a woman to give up easily. But they were dreary and they never seemed to listen to anything I had to say, any opinion I had. They just wanted a biddable little wife with lands and money and title and nothing more.’
‘And you are so much more than that,’ said Duncan.
Ailsa fell silent. He must think her foolish and raving. She had resolved to feign obedience and here she was disparaging all men.
‘How did you escape the clutches of your many eager suitors? Did your father not try to force your hand in this matter?’
‘No, I was always his favourite. I have several sisters who have made advantageous marriages so the matter was not so pressing in my case and I was always able to talk myself out of it. A few suitors I offended irreparably by being a better rider than them, or drinking too much whisky before them, or not laughing at their foolish jests. They would think me too proud or reckless a wife and depart in high dudgeon from Cailleach, so I got rid of a few in that way. Mother was angry but my father thought it amusing and said if they were not man enough to deal with my wildness then they really didn’t deserve me.’
‘Quite right.’
‘’My father always told me I should have been born a man,’ she said squaring her shoulders and holding her head up proudly.
‘Gods no!’ exclaimed Duncan sitting up. ‘What a waste that would be. You are every inch a woman Ailsa and being brave, resourceful and strong doesn’t make you any less of one. You are a rare and wonderful creature with beauty and brains in equal measure. Indeed, I am slightly terrified to be in the presence of such a creature.’
‘You mock me.’
Duncan moved closer, very serious now. ‘I don’t mock lass, really I don’t. I need a woman for a wife, a painted doll won’t do for me. You are achingly beautiful to be sure but that is not what gets between me and my sleep these past weeks. Rest assured I will never resent your courage, your wildness or your intelligence. With me, you can be as you really are.’
His beautiful brown eyes were warm and seductive as they held hers and for a few moments, they just stared at each other. ‘Ailsa I have a need to kiss you,’ he said, reaching his hand gently into her hair and drawing her in. She could feel his warm breath on her lips. ‘Will you let me?’ he said softly.
“I...I shouldn’t. I can’t.’
‘You should. You can.’
As she gave in to him, she felt a wildness rush through her blood and a strange freedom of feeling. She struggled to sit passively as he kissed her, so terrified of losing control, of clutching at him and begging him to take her there, out on the hilltop, under the blue sky and sweeping clouds, for all the world to see. In Duncan’s arms, the struggle of the past year fell away. All the fear and worry and grief were, for a delicious moment, forgotten, replaced by the tenderness of his touch and the exhilaration of a man wanting her. Ailsa had begun to need that oblivion, to seek it out even as she condemned her desire as a weakness.
Eventually, Duncan relinquished his hold on her and smiled broadly. It lit up his face making him seem boyish and almost vulnerable and Ailsa longed to press her lips to his again. But instead, he rose and, taking her hand, pulled her to her feet. At that moment Ailsa saw her situation clearly and brutally. As a reluctant wife she should hate Duncan Campbell but as a woman she wanted him. Her dilemma tore her in two.
‘It’s getting late,’ he said. We should return to the castle as it’s not entirely safe here.’
Silently, as if neither wanted to pierce the fragile truce between them, they mounted their horses and turned back towards the castle and its complications.
It was late afternoon when they got back to the stables, which were deserted as all the stable hands had gone off for a doze in the sun. Duncan declined to summon them, leading the horses in himself.
Ailsa watched his strong, capable hands undoing the bridles and saddles and settling the horses in their stalls. He seemed to relax around them as she did and their ride had been such a treat. Confined to the castle for so long what a joy it had been to be outside with the wind in her hair, flying across the moors. She tried to remember that Duncan was to all intents and purposes her jailor but somehow it was hard to think of him that way as they stood there in companionable silence. She marvelled at the size of him, the brisk gentleness with which he tended to the horses, the enormous power he held in check. He made her seem small and weak and yet in some strange way, protected and suddenly she wanted to be in his arms again.
When he glanced over she leaned languidly back against the stall and smiled, holding his gaze prisoner in hers. His demeanour changed immediately and the hunger in his eyes made her heart leap into her throat. She was playing with fire but all day she had begun to sense the power she might have over Duncan and it was exciting to use it.
Duncan could not look away from his wife. A fierce sun penetrated the cracks in the stable walls sending shafts of golden light onto her and turning her hair to dark fire. Her face was pink from the exertion of riding and there was a glow of happiness and energy about her which he had last glimpsed when she had danced at Morag’s wedding. Was there softness in her eyes when she looked at him and some kind of delicious challenge? Duncan wanted her naked and soft underneath him, writhing in passion and calling his name. To hell with restraint, he was sure she wanted him too and it was time to do something about it.
‘Ailsa, come here,’ he said softly, reaching a hand around her waist and drawing her against him. She did not resist as he took her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. She surrendered completely, falling into his kiss and darting her tongue hesitantly into his mouth, rendering him completely amazed and aroused. He thrust her up against a stall, hard body against her softness, kissing her hungrily and almost desperately, clutching at her in his passion. His breath coming ragged with longing he gasped, ‘I want you Ailsa. I think I’ll die if I can’t have you.’
‘Then have me’ she replied and Duncan did not know nor care why she said the words. He couldn’t do what he wanted here, where they might be discovered, and so taking her hand he brought her to the bottom of the ladder leading up into the hayloft. She looked up at him and then up at the steps and to his surprise and delight gathered her skirts and climbed up. He followed barely able to believe his luck and fell upon her in the warm hay.
There Ailsa let him do what he would, kissing him back and burying her fingers in his thick black hair. He practically tore the clothes from her in his haste to look at her, pulling apart her bodice and bending his head to nuzzle her tender breasts. Pulling her skirts up around her waist he ran his hand slowly up her leg to feel the smoothness of her thighs next to the coarseness of her grey wool stockings.
Wary of what had happened on their wedding night Duncan tried to go slowly so as not to frighten her but Ailsa was showing no hesitation. She ripped his shirt off over his head and dug her nails into his shoulders, gasping as his hands roamed over her bare flesh. He kissed her ripe breasts over and over, sucking and biting gently, trying hard to delay his pleasure in order to ensure hers. The warm smell of her skin, between her breasts and at the nape of her neck, heightened Duncan’s desire to the point of savagery. He had to be inside her now but she pushed back at him.
‘Duncan, wait, the hay is scratching my back,’ she laughed.
‘We can’t have that.’ In one swift moment, which made Ailsa gasp, he rolled, pulling her on top of him. His swollen manhood was now pressed hard against the most intimate part of her and as he gently stroked her buttocks and pulled her against him, he felt her slide along its length, slick with lust. Duncan sat up pulling her so that her pert breasts were pressed to the black hair of his muscled chest. Even now he was unsure. He thrust his hand into her hair and pulled her face back from his. There was desire there, he was certain of it, but also shame as she tried to pull her bodice together to cover her nakedness.
