by Tessa Murran
Hugh seemed unperturbed. ‘Grim fellow isn’t he, never could take a jest. Woeful manners too but then I got him late and the birch across his back had little effect in disciplining him. I fear he will never be a gentleman, too much like his father, he had a black soul too and they say the apple never falls far from the tree eh,’ he smirked, nudging her elbow with his. ‘And a wild temper to equal yours. Best not to get on the wrong side of it my dear but then I’m sure you already know that.’
Ailsa was in turmoil. Did Hugh know of their encounter in the hall? Was he trying to frighten her into submission, if so he was succeeding? To her relief, Hugh soon strode off in search of Duncan leaving her alone.
Some hours later, after a long feast and endless declarations of fealty to Laird Hugh, Ailsa stood stiffly in at the back of the hall, trying to avoid having to engage in conversation with anyone. She needn’t have worried as the other guests mainly avoided her, staring rudely whilst not deigning to look her in the eye. She wondered if the stench of defeat somehow clung to her. Perhaps she had been thrown so low and was now of such scant worth that she was merely something to pity or despise. Slighted by the Campbells, she stood alone and friendless.
From a dark corner on the opposite side of the hall, Duncan watched her intently. He beckoned his friend. ‘Keep an eye on her Rory,’ he said gesturing with his whisky glass in Ailsa’s direction. ‘Keep her safe from our drunken friends hereabouts’.
‘Does that include you as well?’ replied Rory up for some sport at Duncan’s expense.
‘Just do it,’ he glowered, as his friend went off laughing.
Ailsa saw one of Duncan’s men approaching and steeled herself.
‘Rory Mor Campbell at your service,’ he said as he swept into a courtly bow. He was tall and lean with the most extraordinary wide-spaced grey-blue eyes and his face had an honest friendly way about it. ‘Would you like to partake of some wine lady? ‘Tis a fine vintage I’m told and may be of help in bolstering ones courage on being thrown to the wolves.’
He winked at her and Ailsa recognised that he was trying to be kind. She gratefully accepted the wine. She wished to numb her feelings of panic and this seemed a good place to start. She gave him a weak smile and a quiet thanks and he melted into the crowd. Perhaps sensing that she did not want his company, he was kind enough not to force it on her, though he seemed to hover nearby for quite some time after.
Ailsa clutched onto the glass of wine Rory had given her as if her life depended on it. She took a big gulp and as its slow burn flooded her senses she started to recover her resolve. She took another large swig and heard a voice behind her say, ‘Best slow down lady or you’ll not last the night upright’.
She turned to see the welcome sight of her old friend Hamish McDougall. Her shoulders sagged in relief for she had feared it was Duncan come to torture her further. Hamish was peacock-like in all his splendour, dressed in a kilt of bright red and brown tartan, his ginger hair turned dark copper in the candlelight. His height and swagger drew many an admiring look from the females in the hall but Ailsa was indifferent to his male beauty and was simply overwhelmed to see an ally.
‘When I came into the hall I saw this vision all alone trying to hide in the shadows and I thought that won’t do at all,’ he said beaming at her.
‘Oh Hamish, it is so good to see you,’ she gushed, meaning every word. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘I’m here as my father’s envoy to broker a peace between the Sinclairs and Campbells, though I’d have more success trying to drink a loch dry. I’ve no stomach for it as I despise the Campbells but if this fight is not quelled all the clans hereabouts suffer, including mine. I’m hoping to gain an audience with Laird Hugh but I was delayed on the road and have probably offended my host with my tardiness. Not a good start, but enough of me. Ailsa, are you in good health?
‘Yes, I am but my brother...’
‘Imprisoned, yes. He languishes in the dungeons at Dunslair, though I hear he is accorded some comforts. But this is not the place to discuss it – too many unfriendly ears for my liking.’
‘Of course, you have to be careful’. Old Laird McDougall had managed to stay neutral during the war between the Sinclairs and the Campbells but the current truce was a tentative one and Hamish would not want to offend his hosts.
‘Your situation here must be very difficult,’ he said smiling so as to deflect suspicion. ‘To see you under their power, it vexes me so. Be on your guard Ailsa. Hugh Campbell is an extremely dangerous man.
‘I have heard rumours about him, my father didn’t trust him an inch.’
‘Aye, and with good reason. He currently enjoys the patronage of King Charles and acts as his fist in this part of the Highlands.’
‘But Charles hates us Scots. He thinks of us as mindless barbarians and he would take everything from us, our language, our religion, everything which makes us Scots.’
‘Aye but that doesn’t stop Hugh from cultivating his favour whilst feathering his own nest. He may be entrusted with pacifying the more turbulent clans when they rebel against English law but he plays both sides. Charles is a distant master, distracted by his own struggles with the English Parliament and does not keep sufficient control over his Scottish lairds. And Hugh Campbell has several powerful highland families allied to him so he can exploit his wealth and power to further his own ambition, while the English turn a blind eye. If there is eventually a rebellion against English rule, and Ailsa there is a strong possibility of this, then Hugh’s allegiance will be determined not by his conscience, for he has none, but by which course of action is most likely to bring him the greater profit. Take care not to get on the wrong side of him.’
Hamish smiled charmingly as several guests approached him and asked after the health of his father. The warmth in his smile rendered him even more handsome but that warmth was fleeting and a sly intelligence took its place when they moved on. Ailsa suddenly felt as though her mischievous, childhood friend had gone forever. There was bleakness in Hamish’s manner and his sunny demeanour was brittle as if it might snap at any time and turn to something dark. It would seem the events of the past year had made them both harden and grow up. Ailsa felt as though she could cry for what they had lost.
Hamish turned to her. ‘Have they said what they intend to do with you? Did they mention any suitors by any chance?’
‘Suitors, no I’…Ailsa began, confused and horrified by his question, but Hamish continued.
‘Duncan Campbell must have said something to you of his plans.’
‘No, he tells me nothing and I, for the most part, try to avoid him. What plans are you talking about?’
‘You don’t have to concern yourself Ailsa.’
Now he was patronising. ‘What is it, Hamish? What are you not telling me?’
‘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.’
‘Sons?’
Duncan could almost see the thoughts running through her head. He could see the dread on her face at the thought of lying with him. ‘Aye sons, and daughters too I hope. Make no mistake, this is not a marriage in name only, I want children and many of them.’
She did not answer but just stared at him with anger in her eyes. He noticed that her eyelashes were the colour of dark copper; a fresh detail and another beautiful means by which she enslaved him. He lost his bearings and stumbled on with his argument, feeling an utter fool.
‘Ailsa, you can bring your clansmen to heel. It is they who will suffer if the Sinclair’s get dominion over these lands. They were loyal to your father and they are loyal to you in his stead. There is safety in an heir who will join Campbell blood with MacLeod blood. Marry me and in return, I offer my loyalty to you and Clan MacLeod, my fidelity, my love and my protection from all danger, unto death if needs be.
‘Love, you dare to speak of love,’ she snapped. ‘You want me for my lands and my wealth and for the power they will bring you,’ she said contemptuously.
‘Of course I do, I would be a fool not to, but I also want peace and safety for the people here. And more than this,’ he said quietly, ‘I want to go through life with a strong woman at my side, one who wants to build a future here with me.’
‘I am not part of that future and I don’t want you. I will never want you.’
Though her words were like a dagger through his heart, he reached for her hand and took it gently in his. It was icy cold, the fingers long and fine-boned, delicate in his large calloused hands.
‘No matter, for I want you enough for both of us. You know this for you have cast your spell on me witch.’
‘I am no witch and I have no power over you,’ she said bitterly, trying to pull from his grasp. ‘If you make me do this then that is on your conscience. It’s your choice and yours alone. You only want me so that you may have my lands and my clan to fight for you, there is nothing more to it than that. You see I am not the empty-headed ninny you think I am.’
‘You are far from empty-headed but you are wrong about me.’ His honest admission of his motives had failed and she was going to be stubborn. She pulled her hand free and he relinquished this fragile hold on her.
Ailsa continued spitting her fury at him. ‘You may have stolen my lands and my freedom but you will not take my free will. Drag some other foolish woman into your loathsome bed for I would rather die than marry you.’
‘Would you rather your brother languish in a dungeon than marry me?’ Duncan played his last card, giving up any hope that his powers of persuasion could wi
n her over or that she would not forever despise him.
‘My brother?’
‘He is my uncle’s prisoner but need be no longer. Upon our marriage, he will be freed though I am certain that he will be a thorn in my side for a long time to come. The Sinclairs will hold him up as the rightful laird of the Macleods no matter that he is unworthy or that most of your clan despise him now. But I will free that wretch if it is the price I must pay to make this marriage happen.’
‘And where should he go now you have all that is his’?
‘I care not where he goes as long as it is far from me. He can run back to the Sinclairs with his tail between his legs for all I care and cower at their feet like the obedient dog he is. Robert brought this disaster on you and on all his people. Even through your hatred of me, you must be able to see that.’
Shamed by the truth of this Ailsa looked away and out to the vast grey mountains in the distance. Her brother had lacked the strength for leadership. He had gambled with his inheritance and lost and now she was at the mercy of this man. It galled her to think that she had actually hoped Duncan would survive the battle and to think that she had given one ounce of concern for a man who was now callously using her for his own advancement. And she was alone in facing her fate as her friend Hamish had left the castle at first light. There was no one left to help her.
‘Ailsa we must all make hard choices and sacrifices for the good of others,’ Duncan continued, ‘perhaps marrying me is your sacrifice. And as a husband, I might surprise you. Do you not think that had we met in different circumstances, at clan gatherings, feast days and such like and had a chance to discover each other then we may have grown our initial attraction into something more?’
‘Our attraction? Are you not listening? I don’t want you and I never have.’
‘Aye, so you say but be honest with yourself. Had I been put before you as a suitor would I have been so very unworthy? I am young and strong and I am told I am creditably handsome,’ he said smiling gently. ‘I have some good qualities as a suitor that might have impressed your family and won their approval and a marriage could have been negotiated. Had your father not died so soon, had your brother been a stronger man, things could be very different between us.’