“Well?” Ailsa asked him. All the gentleness was gone from her voice; it was as hard as flint. She stood close to him again but he backed away and turned around to avoid looking at her. “You did lie, did you not?”
“Aye,” he replied. “I did.” His expression had become defiant.
“Why? I was there and I know what happened.” Ailsa stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and a fearsome frown on her face. “Please do not lie to me again, Kenneth, or I will take this to my father. I know you are not guilty of this crime, so you have nothing to fear.” Then, suddenly and without warning, her expression became gentle and pleading, and she took his hand in both of hers.
Kenneth looked up, and his eyes met hers in disbelief. He had always worshipped Ailsa from afar, never believing she could be his, but here she was, holding his hand and looking into his eyes with an expression of? He dared not put a name to what he saw in her eyes. It could not possibly be love, could it?
“I did it for you,” he told her huskily. “I thought if I told them Ramsay did it both the brothers would be gone an’ ye wouldnae have tae marry an Ormond. I know ye didnae want tae. I thought maybe you an’ I could be together, but I know your Da would never let ye wed a guard.”
“Well, I understand that you acted with my best interest at heart,” Ailsa answered, “but I will still have to marry an Ormond; Larry Ormond Jamieson.” Then she smiled again and her voice softened as she said, “I don’t really know what kind of a man he is, and I am sure he’s not a bad man, but he’s not the one I want.”
Kenneth froze for a moment. His lips were moving but he seemed to be unable to speak. Eventually, he asked, “Then who is?”
“Can you not guess?” Ailsa asked coyly, raising her eyebrows in a question.
“Me?” Kenneth’s voice was almost a squeak. “But, Mistress?—”
“Call me Ailsa,” she said as she ran her hand over his bright red beard.
“Ye cannae mean that!” he said in disbelief. He looked troubled for a moment as if he was about to tell her something. Then he looked up. “That night, I was about tae come an’ get ye an’ take ye away fae this place. I knew your father wouldnae approve o’ ye bein’ wi’ a guard, ye see, an’ I knew that ye would likely be blamed for John’s murder. I wanted ye tae be safe, but that Ramsay Ormond, the bastard, showed up an’ spoiled everythin’.”
Ailsa had great difficulty restraining her fury as she heard these words. He had just confessed that he had been about to kidnap her. However, she clenched her fists by her sides for a moment, then tried to relax as she smiled at him bewitchingly.
“I am a woman and you are a man,” she said, her voice low and seductive. “And does it even matter that we are of different ranks in society?” She stepped forward and put her hands on his chest, then looked up into his dark eyes. He smelled of leather and fresh male sweat, a combination which did not have a repulsive effect on her.
Ailsa decided that the only way she could persuade him that she had feelings for him and get through this whole encounter was to pretend in her mind that he was Ramsay. It would be difficult, but she thought she could manage it, especially since she was perceptive enough to see that he was absolutely besotted with her.
“I think a man’s and a woman’s feelings for each other have nothing to do with the place they hold in the world,” Ailsa went on. She moved her hands to his head and pushed her fingers into his thick red hair, then heard him stifle a little moan. She could tell that he was becoming aroused by her nearness, and for a few seconds, she felt fear. However, a moment later, they heard the ringing sound of footsteps approaching on the stone flags.
Ailsa swept up her skirts and disappeared into the shadows, while the figure of another guard stopped beside Kenneth to hand him a cup of ale.
“I’m fair worn out, Kenny,” he sighed. “Wi a’ this nonsense between these two families. Ye would think after a’ these years they would have sorted it a’ out, would ye no?”
“Aye, Archie,” Kenneth’s voice was sad. “Mind ye, it doesnae matter which side o’ the feud ye are on, losin’ a son like that shouldnae happen tae anybody, especially since he was sae young.” He shook his head and sipped his ale.
The two men stood in thoughtful silence for a moment, then began some small talk of the kind Ailsa and Kenneth had been indulging in earlier.
She was standing in a small alcove behind a pillar and could hear every word they were saying, but it was very dull stuff, and she had almost tuned herself out of the conversation when her ears pricked up at the sound of her name being mentioned.
“The Laird’s daughter is a pleasant lassie, is she no’?” Archie asked. He was a tall man with greying hair and bright blue eyes who was well-liked by all the men in the garrison as well as the Laird. Lady Davina was fond of his wife, who was also a healer, and they were often to be found talking together about the subject they both loved; potions, healing herbs, and remedies.
“Aye, I suppose she is,” Kenneth said, his tone utterly indifferent. “She was supposed tae marry John Ormond, though. I wonder what will happen now?” He knew the answer to this question because Ailsa had told him, but he wanted to hear Archie’s opinion.
“I suppose she will marry some other fellow,” Archie answered, shrugging. “She is a lovely lassie. She will have nae trouble findin’ a husband.”
There was another short silence before Archie nudged Kenneth playfully in the ribs. “Why dae ye no’ ask her yourself?”
Kenneth looked at the other man questioningly. “Why dae ye say that?” He asked, frowning.
“Because I’m no’ blind, an’ neither is anybody else, ye numpty,” Archie laughed. “Ye have never been able tae keep your eyes off her ever since ye came here.”
Ailsa, from her position in the alcove, was listening intently, and she could hear the nervousness in Kenneth’s voice, even though he was trying to sound indifferent. It seemed that she herself was the only one that had never noticed Kenneth’s interest in her, since everyone else seemed to have been aware of it for a long time. She was shocked by her own lack of perception; if Molly had not told her, she would never have known.
“She is very bonnie,” Kenneth said, shrugging. “I am sure many o’ the lads think so.”
“No’ like you,” Archie observed, laughing again. “Your eyes nearly pop out every time ye see her.”
“Aye, well, we wouldnae be real men if we didnae look at lovely ladies,” Kenneth was desperately trying to laugh off his embarrassment. He swallowed the last of his ale and gave the empty cup to Archie, who set off back down the passage.