Page 34 of Tangled in a Highland Conspiracy
Her father glared at her. “How do you know whose blood was on him?” he asked, his voice rising. “All blood is red, Ailsa, and tears can be false. Some people are very good at that kind of deception.”
Father and daughter glowered at each other in hostile silence for a moment before Lady Davina stood up and placed herself between them. “What would you like us to do, Ailsa?” she asked gently, taking her daughter’s hands in her own. “I do not think we are responsible in this case. This is a matter for the Ormonds, not for us.”
“John would not have been there that morning if it had not been for me,” Ailsa pointed out, struggling to keep her patience. “Of course we are responsible!”
The Laird banged the flat of his hand on his desk, a gesture he used when he was extremely frustrated or angry. His face was crimson with fury. “This is not our problem,” he yelled. “Let the Ormonds deal with it!”
“Da, please speak to Laird Ormond,” Ailsa begged. “If you don’t, an innocent man might hang.” Her voice was softer now, and tears were glittering in her eyes, but the Laird had turned to pour himself a glass of whisky and did not see them. Lady Davina gave Ailsa a warning look and gestured to her to leave. Ailsa did not move for a moment, then turned and left, tears streaming down her face.
She began to walk towards the staircase leading up to the turrets, where, at the very summit, there was a tiny room which was her haven, and which she used when she needed to think. The only person who knew about it was Katrina, who had followed her one day without her knowledge, although subsequently, Ailsa found out.
However, she had not gone more than a dozen steps before she felt a hand gently pulling her back, and she turned to see her mother gazing at her sadly. “Come here,” Lady Davina said as she pulled Ailsa into her arms. “You have feelings for him, do you not?”
Ailsa nodded against Lady Davina’s shoulder while she continued to weep, and then she pulled away from her mother, drying her tears. “Yes, I do, Mammy.” She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “He is the kindest, most generous, loving man I have ever met, and I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to him.”
Her mother hugged her again. “I know what it is to be in love,” she said tenderly. “You sometimes think it makes you weak, but it can make you very strong too, Ailsa. It did that to me. Please do not give up hope.”
Ailsa looked into the green eyes that were so like her own and saw an endless well of love. She wondered what it was like to be a mother and resolved to ask Lady Davina one day. But there was only one man she would want to be the father of her child, and he was out of her reach.
* * *
The stairs to the tower were extremely steep. Ailsa had never counted them, but she was sure that they numbered in the thousands—it certainly felt that way. When she got to the top landing she stood for a moment recovering her breath and waiting for the ache in her legs to disappear.
When she felt better, she opened the door to the tiny room and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Katrina sitting gazing out of one of the windows that looked out of the room on all sides. She was dismayed to see her little sister there and hoped that she had not witnessed the events that had been happening just below her.
When she heard the door closing behind Ailsa, Katrina looked around and smiled. “I hoped you would come.”
Ailsa went over to her little sister and hugged her tightly. Katrina was kneeling on a cushioned bench that ran around the circular room, and Ailsa knelt beside her and put her arms on the windowsill. She could see her little sister peering intently down at the courtyard below, her expression slightly puzzled.
“What are you thinking?” Ailsa asked. “Because I was just thinking about the clootie dumpling the cook just made. I know you love the way she makes it, Katie, and she has just brought in some thick cream from the buttery. I came to see if you wanted to have some with me.”
Katrina looked at Ailsa sideways with a slight frown. She may have been only ten years old, but she knew when her considerable intelligence was being insulted. Ailsa’s story was a not-too-subtle distraction, and they both knew it. “No, I was not thinking about that,” she replied, somewhat irritably. “They put a dead man into a carriage down there, did they not?”
Ailsa’s heart skipped a beat. “How did you know that?” she asked, hearing the tremor in her voice.
“Because I know what a coffin looks like, silly,” Katrina replied. “And I have been watching what was going on. I saw the dead man too, but I don’t know who he was. I have never seen a dead person before. It was very interesting, but everyone’s gone now.” She sounded a little disappointed, but not at all afraid. Ailsa was relieved; she had obviously not understood the significance of what had just happened.
“Who was the man on the horse?” Katrina asked suddenly. “The man with the big nose? He looked angry. Is there something wrong with his leg?”
Ailsa thought for a moment. “Oh, that sounds like Larry Jamieson,” she replied. She frowned, puzzled. “He is Laird Ormond’s nephew. Why do you ask?”
Katrina frowned. “Because when he got down from his horse he was limping, but when he saw Da and Mammy he started to walk as well as you and I do. It looked very strange. He must have been pretending to limp, but why?”
Ailsa felt a wave of shock pass over her. Ramsay had told her that he had wounded John’s attacker in the leg. As well as that, if John was dead, Larry stood to inherit the entire Balmuir estate, and that was a considerable amount of land. Ailsa did not consider it worth the cost of a human life, but then she was not Larry Ormond. She did not know him well, so she could not judge whether he was capable of murder or not, but she certainly could not rule it out.
Yet was she being fanciful? In her mind, was she accusing an innocent man of something so heinous she could not bear to think about it? After all, there were many ways someone could have hurt their leg. Then she thought about Larry and the way he had looked at Ramsay on the few occasions she had seen them together. After a moment’s consideration she became more convinced that if he were not the killer, he certainly had something to do with John’s murder. After all, he had a lot to gain. However, if he were the murderer, he must have had help. There must have been someone there in the background to create a diversion in case one was needed, probably the same person who had helped him plan the whole thing.
She became aware at that moment that Katrina was tugging her sleeve. “You’re daydreaming,” she observed, giggling. “What are you dreaming about?”
Ailsa looked down at the sweet, innocent face of her little sister and smiled. She was not going to upset Katrina for any reason, so she did not give her an honest answer. “I do not know, Katie,” she replied, then she bent down to look into Katrina’s face, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Some young men do not want to look weak in front of pretty ladies, and Mammy is a beautiful lady, so maybe that is why he was trying to look as though his leg was not sore. Men are funny creatures, Katie. You will learn that as you become older.”
Katie giggled again, then put her arms around Ailsa’s waist. “What were you saying about clootie dumplings, Ailsa?” she asked mischievously. “I am starving!”
“So am I,” Ailsa laughed, then put her arms around her sister in a brief hug. “Come, let us raid the kitchen!”
“What if the cook says no?” Katrina asked.
“I will deal with the cook,” Ailsa growled. Katrina opened the door and then began to skip down the steep stairs, ignoring the bannister on the wall.
