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‘Just look at him mooning over her like a love-sick calf. Bedded half the castle he has since she wed Donald. There’s not a servant girl in this room who hasn’t had to run from his eager little cock.’
Ailsa stared at Mairi with her mouth open.
‘Och, now I’ve gone and shocked you, poor pet. An innocent are you, though I’d wager not for long if you’re wed to Duncan Campbell? He won’t leave you alone, looking like you do. A fine husband to be sure, you are lucky to be bedded by a man like that instead of one like that,’ she scoffed, pointing at the unfortunate Donald.
‘Mine was a marriage of convenience,’ Ailsa blurted out.
‘Convenience you say? Not judging by the way he looks at you. I saw it here tonight. There’s many a girl here who would happily lift her skirts for such a look.’
‘Well, I do not want him to look at me.’
Mairi seemed to relent then. ‘I mean no disrespect Ailsa. I should guard my tongue ignorant silly woman that I am. Tell me he does not mistreat you lass.’
‘He is not cruel, I can be thankful for that and he is kind to my mother; she has been ill.’ Ailsa’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want to talk about her family to a stranger.
‘Ah well, Duncan has always been kind to women and children. Never got a cross word from him and I’ve known him since he was a boy; a good lad then and an honourable man now.’
‘Tell me about those women over there,’ Ailsa asked, gesturing towards Agnes and her cronies and desperate to change the subject.
‘You’ll get no welcome from them, sour-faced baggages.’
‘They seem to hate me for being a MacLeod.’
‘Not for being a MacLeod, for being beautiful. They set their cap at your husband long ago. Fat chance they ever had of catching him and no chance at all now they have seen you and you are so much lovelier than them. You have cheated them of their prize, my dear, no matter that you did it unwittingly and rather unwillingly. Let me introduce you to some better company.’
With that she dragged Ailsa into a series of introductions, singing her praises to all who would listen as if she herself was personally responsible for having landed Duncan such a worthy bride and should be congratulated on her achievement.
After what seemed like an age Ailsa excused herself. Feeling tired to her bones she bid Mairi goodnight and slipped out of the hall. By the time she reached her chamber, there were tears soaking her face. She had dreaded coming here, had not wanted to leave the tentative intimacy which had blossomed between her and Duncan. Since coming to Dunslair she was beginning to feel that her desire for him had blinded her. Duncan had married her for power and position and any feelings she had started to nurture for him were wasted against his loyalty to the Campbells.
Perhaps she had been played for a fool, no matter that he had done so kindly, the pretence of feeling affection for her allowing her to cling to her pointless pride that little bit longer. Reality bit hard. She was one woman among many he had singled out for his attention. What was she to him other than a means to consolidate his power? When he had lain with her at Cailleach it had been to satisfy a hunger and produce an heir nothing more. Ailsa could not steer his loyalty from Clan Campbell to her.
Duncan came late to bed and Ailsa braced herself in case he reached out for her. When he did not, she was unsure whether to be relieved or furious. They had never shared a bed all night before as Duncan had kept his distance in this regard at Cailleach. Was this kindness on his part in not wanting to force his company on her or the indifference of a man who had married for convenience? Now at Dunslair, it was assumed that as newlyweds they would sleep together and so Ailsa, her mind whirling with tension, was forced to listen to Duncan’s steady breathing as he drifted easily off to sleep. She, on the other hand, lay awake until dawn feeling the warmth of his body next to her while the cold sting of rejection bit into her heart.
The next day the unforgiving highland weather finally relented and blessed the castle’s occupants with a breezy day of sunshine. Duncan was gone by dawn and obviously wrestling with some demon or other as he seemed to be avoiding her. She was tired of feeling like someone’s prisoner and she resolved to get out of Dunslair and get some air in her lungs.
Surprisingly it was easy to get beyond the castle walls. The Campbells were confident in their mastery of their lands and held sway over all around them. Folk came and went with ease, with no fear of violence or thievery. Ailsa passed unchallenged through the busy stream of merchants and carts bearing their wares in and out of the castle gates, farmers bringing livestock for the castle’s kitchens and those down on their luck, the impoverished who sought succour at the laird’s door. As she headed for the nearby loch and stretched her legs she felt more at ease.
Bright sunlight flooded the valley lighting up the sweeping slopes of russet bracken and rocks as they tumbled down to the water. The dark loch was flat and still reflecting, like glass, the brooding snow-capped mountains encircling it. Overtaken by her feelings, Ailsa kicked off her shoes and hobbled over the rocks, slippery with vivid green algae. She took delight in paddling in the icy water like a child. The chill numbed her feet in seconds but holding her skirts above her knees she could not suppress a smile. What a joy to be out of that dark, dreary castle with sunlight warming her face. She stayed like that for some time watching the silver flash of hordes of tiny fish darting as one amongst the shallows and the sweep of birds over the water.
‘Don’t freeze to death Ailsa,’ said a warm voice behind her. She whirled around to see Duncan standing there. Every muscle had tensed at his voice but he was smiling at her.
‘Why is it that each time I come upon you I find you more beautiful and less ladylike,’ he teased while reaching out his hand to guide her back over the rocks. Ailsa let her skirts fall as the wind chilled her legs.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said guiding her to some boulders nearby. He quickly got down on one knee and lifted her skirts up onto her knees. Ailsa dared not move. Gently he took hold of one foot and slowly rubbed it dry with his plaid. He then took up the other.
‘I should do that for myself,’ she said.
‘Why should you when you have me to do it for you. Besides you have the prettiest feet I ever saw, so small and delicate.’ Duncan retrieved her shoes and placed them gently back on and then got up and sat next to her, shoulder to shoulder. Ailsa was acutely aware of him and of the warmth from his shoulder where it touched hers. Though there was a brisk wind over the loch he wore only a shirt; he never seemed to feel the cold as she did. She glanced down at his rough hands clasped in his lap and remembered how it felt to have them roam all over her. She bit her lip and stared out at the glassy grey surface of the loch wanting so badly to mend fences with him.
‘Duncan I…I am sorry for our quarrel.’
‘I am sorry I left you in the hall last night, that was unkind of me and if I spoke harshly I am sorry for it, truly I am,’ he said turning to her. ‘I should have known this would be difficult for you, coming as a stranger amongst my people in such circumstances. I had hoped it would heal wounds but it would appear to have done the opposite.’
‘But these are your people and I should have acknowledged their loss too. I never let myself imagine your side of this fight or what it must have cost you for I was too busy hating you.’
‘And do you hate me now?’
‘Not so much as I did. I feel I have made that fairly obvious,’ she said blushing.
