Page 146 of Taming the Highland Misfits

“I think we are owed an explanation, lass,” he said angrily to his daughter. He pulled out chairs for Ailsa and Molly, then poured out a glass of ale for each of them.

As Ailsa took her first sip of ale, her father demanded, “Where were you last night, Ailsa?”

Ailsa’s eyes widened with surprise. “Did Molly not tell you I was in bed?” she asked, with a sideways glance at her friend. “I had a very bad headache.”

“Yes, I did.” Molly said, looking down at the top of the desk. “But you know I was lying, M’Laird. I am sorry, but I?—”

“She did it for me,” Ailsa interrupted. “Molly is not to blame.”

The Laird stared at her for a long moment then looked at his wife.

“You may leave us, Molly.” Lady Davina spoke up, her voice stern. Molly rose and curtsied politely, then went out, straight-backed and dignified even though she was obviously very upset.

Ailsa turned back to her mother and opened her mouth to speak, but Lady Davina held up her hand for silence.

“No more lying, Ailsa.” Her tone was stern and there was the glint of a challenge in her eyes. “You were not in your bedroom last night, and although Molly was very loyal to you, you know that I can always spot a lie when I see one. I was suspicious when Molly told me that you were asleep, but when she tried to deny entry to your bedroom to your father and me this morning I knew something was wrong.

I knew she was lying because that was exactly what I would have said if I had been defending a friend, but the more I asked her, the more she denied knowing, till eventually she burst into tears. I realised that short of torturing her I was not going to get any information from her.” Then her bright apple-green eyes met Ailsa’s in a probing stare. “But I am going to get some answers from you, am I not, Ailsa?”

Ailsa took a deep draught of ale, stalling for time, since she was not sure of how much she should reveal to her parents. “I need something to eat,” she said at last. It was the truth, but if she had thought it would buy her any more time she was wrong.

The Laird quickly summoned a maidservant and ordered some cold food to be brought as quickly as possible. The young woman scurried away to return not five minutes later bearing a tray of cold meat, cheese, dried meat and fruit, which she placed on the table then disappeared as quickly as she had come.

Ailsa had no sooner put a morsel of meat in her mouth before the Laird began to speak to her in a tone of voice which she had never heard before. Her father adored her; she knew that, and even on the occasions when he became angry with her he never shouted at her, but he was almost shouting now.

“I want the truth, Ailsa,” he yelled, banging the flat of his hand on the desk. “Your mother was beside herself with worry. I have never seen her in such a state before and it is all your fault!” He paused to take a deep breath and calm down, and Ailsa saw her mother reaching out to take his hand.

For the first time in her life, Ailsa was afraid of her father, but then she realised that his anger was concealing another emotion; fear. She tried to put herself in his position, imagining that both of them had left her, and the sense of loss was devastating.

“Da, Mammy.” She reached out a hand to both of them and they grasped hers. “I am so sorry to have frightened you both so much. I assure you, it was not my intention. Please forgive me.”

They looked at each other, and a silent signal passed between them. Then the Laird nodded, sighing. “Of course, we forgive you, Ailsa, but please, never frighten us like that again. Now, can you tell us what happened? Were you hurt?”

Ailsa shook her head. “No, Da. I was not hurt in any way,” she replied firmly.

“Then please tell us what happened!” Lady Davina demanded, her eyes beginning to darken with anger.

Ailsa nodded, then began to speak. As she watched her parents she saw a range of emotions pass over their faces, from annoyance to fear, to utter shock when they heard about John Ormond’s death.

“Oh my god!” Lady Davina’s hands flew to her face as she stared at her daughter in horror. “Ailsa, tell me this is not true.”

“I am afraid it is, Mammy,” Ailsa said sadly. “I saw it happen with my own eyes and it was horrible. It was worse for Ramsay, though, because John was his brother, and they loved each other very much.”

“Why did you go to see a stranger in the dark, Ailsa?” her mother asked. “That arrow could very well have taken your life instead of John’s.”

Ailsa looked down at her hands, which she was twisting in her lap. Why had she gone? She really had no answer to that question. It had been exciting and had added a touch of spice to her life, which occasionally seemed very dull.

She shrugged. “I suppose I thought it would be good to meet the man I was supposed to marry before the wedding,” she replied. “And he made our meeting sound so romantic. Needless to say, had I known the truth I would never have gone,”

“It is too late for regrets now,” her father said briskly. “You say that the person who handed the note to Molly was called Kenneth?”

“Yes,” Ailsa answered. “Molly said that as soon as he had given it to her he disappeared and said that he needed to go back to work.”

The Laird got to his feet. “I will find him. He needs to answer a few questions—and quickly!”

Ailsa sat with her mother for a while trying to eat the delicious food in front of her, only to find that she had completely lost her appetite. She pushed her plate away, then sighed and laid her head on the table. After the night she had just had, she was utterly exhausted.

“Perhaps you should go and rest,” her mother said gently.