Page 171 of Taming the Highland Misfits

“I never believed she could do this to me, Mammy,” Ailsa said huskily, wiping tears from her eyes. “She has always been like a sister to me—as if she was really one of us. How could she do a thing like this?” Ailsa felt the betrayal like a physical pain in her chest as though she had been burned. “What did I do to her that was so bad?”

Lady Davina’s green eyes were filled with love and sympathy as she looked at Ailsa. “You know, lovie, you could say that your father and I did the same thing. Moira Ormond was meant to marry Malcolm, as you know, and I took him away from her at the last moment. We were motivated by love, of course, and Moira is definitely no friend of mine, although I have never borne her any ill will. But I am not a hypocrite. I know I did her wrong—both Malcolm and I did—so in some strange way I can understand Molly’s feelings.”

“But Molly did this out of hatred,” Ailsa protested. “Her father did wrong and she wants to punish us for it.”

Lady Davina picked up her daughter’s hand and kissed it. “I know you are right,” she agreed. “But look at it from her point of view. Her father gambled all her family’s wealth away, but your father imprisoned him. The fact that we took her in saved her life, but it added to her humiliation. Now she was at the beck and call of those who had taken her father away.”

“But does she not hate her father?” Ailsa asked. “He was the one who did all the damage in the first place.”

Lady Davina sighed and frowned a little. “That I do not know,” she replied. “As you say, she is a hard person to read, and she has hardly mentioned him ever since she came here. She has had every opportunity to visit him, but to my knowledge, she has only done so a few times.”

“She told me he is old and stupid now,” Ailsa said. “She does not seem to care for him too much, but she has been holding a grudge against us, the people who care for her, and saved her from a fate worse than death, for years. It makes no sense, Mammy.”

“Well, this kind of emotion usually does not,” Lady Davina replied. “And we are all different, Ailsa. We cannot step into Molly’s mind and work out why she does what she does.”

Ailsa looked at her mother for a long moment, marvelling at her calmness. “Are you not angry?” she asked, puzzled. “I might have been murdered because of her.”

“Of course I am angry!” Lady Davina growled. “Indeed, if I knew what I know now, and I had managed to get my hands on her that night, this conversation would not be happening, because I myself would likely be in prison for murder. Yes, I am angry, Ailsa, but I also pity her, because she has been manipulated and used.

Larry Ormond has no more love for that girl than he has for you and me. He saw a weak and bitter person whom he could exploit, and she was simply a means to an end for him. I am furious, but I believe she will get the punishment she deserves. Your father will see to it.”

Ailsa nodded. “I suppose that makes sense, Mammy,” she agreed, “but I must confess that I am finding it hard to dredge up an ounce of sympathy. All these years she deceived all of us. Katie is going to be devastated; you know how she looked up to her.”

There was a short silence and then Lady Davina said, “Now that you have unburdened yourself, do you think you could eat your breakfast?”

Ailsa laughed, but she had no sooner picked up her fork again than one of the maidservants entered with a missive addressed to Ailsa. As she took it from the young woman’s hand, Ailsa saw the Ormond crest on the wax seal and her heart missed a beat. When she broke the seal and opened the letter, her eyes widened with shock.

“What is it?” Lady Davina asked anxiously. “Ailsa? What is wrong?”

Ailsa read the letter again, scanning it intently to see if she had missed anything, and then she looked up at her mother. “The Ormonds want me to go there for Ramsay’s trial,” she told her. “The letter was written by Moira Ormond on behalf of the Laird, who is too grief-stricken to write.”

She gave the letter to her mother, who read it aloud:

“Mistress Ailsa McBain,

I am writing you this letter on behalf of my brother, who is resting, since he is currently overcome with grief. Ramsay Ormond, the accused in the murder of my nephew, John Ormond, has asked you to speak on his behalf. In the interests of fairness and impartiality we have agreed to this, and consequently, request your presence at the trial which takes place on Tuesday the eighteenth of this month at Balmuir castle. Please send your reply with the messenger who brought this.

Kind regards,

Lady Moira Jamieson.”

Ailsa jumped to her feet at once and ran to her chamber, where she quickly penned a note. She rushed downstairs and gave it to the messenger, who was not wearing the Ormond livery, probably for his own safety.

As she turned to go back to the dining room, Ailsa met her mother in the middle of the atrium.

“Should you not have spoken to your father before accepting?” she asked, frowning.

“I am going whether Da gives me his permission or not.” Ailsa’s face wore a look of grim determination. “Even if it is only to see Ramsay one last time.”

Lady Davina recognised the look in Ailsa’s eyes because it was the same one she herself had worn when she had stood her ground beside Malcolm when both their fathers had tried to stop them from marrying. She knew that a woman in love was akin to a force of nature, one of the strongest beings on earth.

“No need to fear,” she said, her eyes alight with mischief. “I will persuade your father.”

Ailsa smiled inwardly. That was all Ailsa needed to know; the deed was already done. Once Lady Davina had cast her spell on the Laird, he had no power to resist.

* * *

When Katrina was told about Molly’s defection, she was heartbroken. “I don’t understand,” she said plaintively. “Why would she do this to us, Mammy?” Her bright green eyes were swimming with tears and she shook her head in disbelief.