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She turned to the tall young man beside her and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Murray had already decided he didn’t like Aidan Grant. You could almost smell the arrogance on the young man. The object of Ilene’s affections was exceedingly handsome, in a soft kind of way that had foolish young girls swooning, and he obviously knew it.
Like his father, the elegant and rich Lachlan Grant, Aidan was charming with a confident swagger. He seemed to scream good breeding, from his short-cropped brown hair to his bright smile and his chiselled jaw. Murray observed that he wore his wealth and entitlement with an easy confidence, dispensing greetings and compliments to those around him like a rich man gave out alms to the poor. Ilene seemed to be hanging on his every word and, unguarded as she was, it was obvious to all that she adored him.
She met Murray’s gaze across the hall and beamed at him and suddenly he felt ten feet tall. Aidan noticed what passed between them, then said something to Ilene and made his way over to where Murray stood, come to get the measure of him no doubt.
‘So you are the famous Murray, the prodigal son returned. Ilene and I were just talking about you,’ said Aidan.
He acts as though they are one already, thought Murray, and for some reason, his anger quickened. He said nothing in reply so Aidan pressed on.
‘She has spoken to me of your exploits and very highly. I believe you have acquitted yourself well on the battlefield.’ Aidan’s voice was conceited and resentful in equal measure, his next words suggesting that he had not enjoyed hearing of Murray’s exploits one little bit. ‘I hear though, that you committed to no particular side.’
Ah, so here it comes, the first slide of the knife between the ribs. Murray was not shocked at this enmity from a man he had never met, more gratified at just how warmly Ilene must have spoken of him to have raised this young man’s hackles so high.
He looked the other man up and down slowly. ‘I find that when one is faced with the onslaught of hundreds of heavy horse at full pelt, cannon volleys and lines of pikemen intent on ripping you open, being on the winning side is more important than being on the right side. It’s not loyalty that wins battles or keeps you alive.’
‘What about one’s conscience? Are we not answerable before God for our allegiances? Surely a man must fight for principles and for a cause, he must have something to believe in or he cannot be trusted.’
‘I hear you follow the Protestant way, and yet your family have made Catholic allies of the MacLeods and Campbells.’
‘Our families have aided each other for years that is true but...’
‘So you are happy to get in bed with people who, in matters of religion, hold beliefs completely at odds with your own as long as you profit from it. So, on a matter as important as faith, your principles are as flexible as my allegiance it would seem.’
‘You twist my words I…
‘See here, I have but one life to lose and would not throw it away cheaply for an idea or a principle. A man knows that if he pays me a fair price I will fight his battles for him so that it is my bowels that spill out into the dirt instead of his own. He rents my allegiance, he does not own it, and I am free to live as I please, tied to no principle and no person, and I make no apologies for it, to you or anyone.’
‘Perhaps you live that way because you have never had the advantage of having your own family, to provide such ties as bind the rest of us,’ Aidan replied, his face reddening in indignation.’
At last, the stain of illegitimacy, time to put this pompous young fool in his place. ‘I have no need of ties or family,’ Murray replied steadily.
‘Perhaps the kind of disreputable life you have lived, of brothels, and brawling and swilling ale, has made you jaded,’ sneered Aidan.
‘Aye, but it has also made me rich,’ he said, ‘and it has made me free.’ He put a heavy hand on Aidan’s shoulder. ‘Free to swat you like a fly any time I choose if you try to insult me again.’ The naked threat in his voice had the intended effect and any response dried in Aidan’s throat.
Ilene came smiling back over to them as Murray moved away and he heard her ask, ‘What were you speaking of?’
‘Your family should keep that dog in chains,’ Aidan hissed at Ilene, loudly enough for Murray to hear, as he left her behind and strode off angrily, no doubt in search of more flattering company.
***
Later in the evening, Ilene stood alone and downcast. Aidan had abandoned her after his angry exchange with Murray and left the hall.
She started when she heard a dark voice beside her.
‘Here,’ said Murray proffering a glass of whisky.
She took it from him, swallowing it in one huge gulp, her eye not meeting his. He was to blame for Aidan’s anger and now she would be forced to talk to him.
‘I’m impressed,’ he said, ‘I like a woman who can handle her liquor.’
‘Well, I’m not bothered with what you like at the moment Murray.’
‘You are angry with me. The wee dram was to make amends, but I see it hasn’t.’
‘Why did you offend Aidan? Could you not show some courtesy?’
‘He showed none, why should I?
