Page 44 of Tangled in a Highland Conspiracy
“Of course you did,” Larry said indulgently. “He was a very soft-hearted man. He probably felt sorry for you.”
“He was my brother,” Ramsay said through gritted teeth. “I loved him. We loved each other. Now, do you have a point to make?”
Larry gave him a look that was halfway between a smile and a frown. “So you remember that day? You remember that John was showered with gifts; he got his first pony and his first bow and arrow that day, although of course, it was not a real one. He and I had a lot of fun with our bows and arrows. It was a pity you never had one, was it not?”
He paused, smiling, and looked back dreamily into the past. “The little stallion was called Sam, remember? He was such a mischievous little devil!” He laughed, but it was a little forced. “John and I had fun riding that day—” He broke off and glared at Ramsay. “Until you decided that it would be fun to slap Sam on the rump and frighten him while John was riding him.”
“How could I forget?” Ramsay asked bitterly. “You remind me every time I see you.”
The pony had reared up and John had only managed to stay on his back by the skin of his teeth. He was badly frightened, however, and it had taken him weeks to gather up enough courage to ride him again.
However, after a few hours of being furious, he had come to see Ramsay, who was locked in his cramped little chamber, then grinned at him and said, “That was a bit silly, was it not?”
Ramsay nodded. “I am so sorry, John. I was only playing.” He had looked at the floor, feeling deeply ashamed of himself. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I am fine.” John put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “We are having venison tonight, and you are going to join us. If Father doesn’t like it we will eat in my chamber.”
Laird Ormond was not best pleased, but he allowed Ramsay to sit at the table with the family, despite the disapproval of everyone else except John. When the meal was over, the two boys went to practise with John’s new bow and arrow, leaving Larry to his own devices. Neither of them had much time for their cousin, much preferring each other’s company.
Larry had never forgotten that snub. It was only a little thing, but it hurt him badly, and he never forgot it. “You wanted that pony for yourself, did you not, Ramsay? You were so jealous you wanted to knock John off so that he would hurt himself.”
“I was never jealous of John,” Ramsay replied wearily. He had had this conversation with his cousin half a dozen times before, and it was utterly pointless because it always ended the same way.
“Do you think I can see my father, please?” Ramsay asked wearily, heartily wishing that Larry would make himself scarce.
“I am afraid that is impossible,” Larry replied. “Your father is in a very bad way. He is not eating and has spent most of his time drinking whisky and weeping. Anyway, I think you are the last person he wants to see.” He turned and walked out, and Ramsay breathed a sigh of relief. He had never particularly liked Larry, but at that moment he hated him.
* * *
Molly backed away from Ailsa. “I have nothing to say to your father!” she said furiously. “I hate him. I have always hated him because he took me away from my own father and put him in prison. I have seen him only a handful of times since then, and he hardly recognises me anymore. He has become old and stupid, and it is all because of Laird Malcolm McBain!”
“My father saved you from starving,” Ailsa countered. “Your father would have been bankrupt, you would have lost everything, and would have had to beg on the streets for crusts of bread. He saved your life when your own father nearly ruined it!”
The two women stared at each other for a long moment, then Ailsa summoned a guard. “Take her down to the dungeon, but be gentle, please,” she said calmly. “Make her as comfortable as you can; extra blankets, a book, and the same food as we have.”
“You are imprisoning me?” Molly asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“For the time being.” Ailsa answered. “Until my father has spoken to you, then we will decide what to do.” Then she turned her back so that she could not see her erstwhile best friend being led away. She was wracked with guilt, anger, and sadness; guilt because of what she was doing to Molly, anger at what Molly had done to her, and sadness for their shattered friendship.
Ailsa went through to her own chamber and threw herself onto her bed, then she began to weep silently for the loss of her friend and her beloved.
19
Ailsa was staring at her breakfast of eggs and bacon, unable to force herself to eat it in case it choked her. She chased the food around the plate with her fork, then finally put it down to look up into the anxious eyes of her mother. The Laird was in his study working and Katrina was with her tutor, so they were alone, and an uncomfortable silence had descended.
Usually, when they were seated together it was in the evening, and their silences were easy and comfortable. Lady Davina would be sitting sewing, Ailsa and Molly would be reading books, and Katrina would be playing with her doll. The Laird was usually busy in his office and did not appear till much later in the evening, so the women of the family sat contentedly around a warm fire. The atmosphere was normally tranquil in the extreme, the only sound coming from the wind outside, the cries of owls in the woods, or the occasional sound of footsteps in the passage.
Ailsa, Davina, and Molly enjoyed a glass of wine while Katie had a cup of small beer, and after a while, she would become drowsy, then a maidservant would take her to bed. However, she never left without bestowing tight hugs and soft kisses on her sister, mother, and Molly. Katrina adored her.
That was the time of day Ailsa enjoyed most. She treasured every moment with her family because she knew how fortunate she was to have such a close and loving one. But now her family had lost one of its members; Molly.
Ailsa knew that Katrina was going to be heartbroken, which was one of the reasons she was so afraid to tell her. She had made a lame excuse about Molly not feeling well the night before and that morning, but she knew she could not keep on lying for much longer.
The silence that had fallen between Lady Davina and Ailsa now was not the comfortable sort that they enjoyed in the evening, though. This was the kind that hung heavily over them and needed to be broken.
At last Lady Davina spoke, “Tell me about what happened,” she said softly, reaching out her hand to clasp her daughter’s. “I cannot imagine how you are feeling, Ailsa, but there is a light at the end of this tunnel somewhere. There always is, although it may not seem like it now.”
“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?”
