Page List

Font Size:

“Some people are married without ever meeting each other,” Ailsa pointed out, “and they get on well. Sometimes they even fall in love and are very happy. I am sure that will happen to me—to us.” She pasted a smile on her face and put an arm around Katrina’s shoulders. She was determined not to let Katrina see the black bitterness she felt at the knowledge that she was being used as a political pawn, and she hoped the same thing would never happen to Katie.

“Where will you live when you are married?” Katrina asked, although she already knew the answer.

“With my husband at Balmuir Castle.” Ailsa’s heart was breaking as she saw Katrina’s stricken face. “But you can come and see me as often as you like, Katie. Mulrigg is not so far away from Balmuir, and I can visit you too.”

Katrina burst into tears. “But to whom I will talk?” she cried. “Who is going to make up stories for me?”

Ailsa had no answer for that, so she put her arms around her little sister and held her tightly while she wept.

When her tears had stopped and she had dried her eyes, Katrina looked up at Ailsa and gave her a sad smile. “I will try to be happy for you, Ailsa,” she said bravely, “but I will miss you very much.”

“I will miss you too, wee sister.” Ailsa sighed as she looked out onto the bright waters of the loch. The wedding would take place in a few weeks, and after that, as a married woman, she would have more responsibilities and much less freedom. She was determined to make the most of every minute while she still could.

2

When they arrived back at their castle of Mulrigg, Katrina was still too restless to go in and settle down to an afternoon of reading. She was occasionally allowed to go and play with the servants’ children, but they were all engaged in activities of their own that day.

Mingling with the lower classes was an activity that was frowned upon by polite society, but her father and mother were of the opinion that it was a learning experience that would stand Katrina in good stead later.

Anyway, they had never conformed to the unwritten but strict dictates of people who tried to confine them by using the standards they thought were proper. They had their own way of doing things, ones which did not always endear them to the circle in which they were obliged to move. Whether they liked it or not, the welfare of their family often depended on the goodwill of others.

Lady Davina and Laird Malcolm McBain lived mostly by their own rules, or they would never have committed the cardinal sin of running away and marrying each other. However, in the case of their daughter, they were trapped. The peace agreement between the two families had been hard-won, but the hardest part of all had been having to agree to Ailsa’s marriage. Moreover, it brought back so many memories of what they themselves had gone through all those years ago.

Ailsa had no idea how much it had hurt both of them to give her hand in marriage to the heir to the Ormonds. It was for the best of causes, but both Laird and Lady McBain wondered if the sacrifice was worth it. What if Ormond treated her without consideration? What if he were unfaithful? He had been to see the family only a few times over the years, and although he had been friendly enough and very well-mannered, he had never left much of an impression on them.

All Ailsa could remember about him was that he had a pleasant smile. He seemed personable enough, but the longest contact Ailsa had had with him was when they were seated next to each other during a ceilidh which both families had attended.

Ailsa and Katrina were sitting in the small flower garden that bordered the entrance to the courtyard, talking in a desultory fashion about nothing in particular. Katrina was unusually subdued, then she asked suddenly, “When is the wedding?”

“Two weeks on Saturday,” Ailsa replied, then she brightened up. “Would you like to be my bridesmaid? We can have a special dress made for you!”

A small flicker of excitement appeared on Katrina’s face. “What colour?”

“Well, your favourite colour is pink,” Ailsa said, smiling. She was glad to see that her sister looked a little more cheerful. “So I think we should choose a lovely shade of pink velvet trimmed with lace and flowers in your hair. I will send for the seamstress tomorrow. What do you think?”

Katrina opened her mouth to answer, but they were interrupted by a voice calling Ailsa’s name, and they both turned to see Molly, her maid and closest friend, striding towards them. She looked a little flushed and dishevelled, and Ailsa frowned.

“Molly, what is it?” she asked anxiously. “Is something wrong?”

“I have been looking everywhere for you!” Molly replied. “Where have you been?”

“Down at the loch,” Ailsa replied, frowning. “We had a picnic. Why?”

Molly held out a parchment and handed it to Ailsa. “This came for you a while ago,” she said, sounding somewhat annoyed. “Apparently it is urgent that you receive it at once.”

Ailsa took the paper from Molly and examined it. She noticed the Ormond crest at once, and her curiosity was piqued. There was no one on the Ormond estate who would or should be sending letters to her. She opened it quickly, not caring if Molly or Ailsa saw it. None of them had any secrets from each other.

Molly sat down beside the two sisters and watched while Ailsa unsealed the parchment and began to read the letter written on it.

My dearest Ailsa,it read, I have been thinking about our wedding incessantly since I first heard that we were going to be married. I feel very blessed and honoured that I am going to be your husband, even though the circumstances, as I am sure you will agree, are not ideal. However, the burden of keeping the peace between our families has fallen on our shoulders, so we must work together. I know from my own experience that to achieve this we must become better acquainted before we wed.

It is with this in mind that I invite you to meet me by the Braeburn in the woods on the border of your estates tonight just after sunset. Please come alone, since we need to have total privacy. Your honour is safe—you have my word on it, and I always keep it. You may wonder why I wish to meet you in the evening, and I know it sounds strange, but I find myself, usually the most unromantic of men, in the strange position of wanting to impress you! There is a full moon, the night will be warm, and I will bring a bottle of my father’s best red wine. Forgive the short notice, but we have so little time to waste.

Forever yours,

John Ormond.

The letter was almost a work of art, so beautifully was it written, and the signature was a great, flamboyant flourish. Ailsa was very impressed with the way John Ormond expressed himself, in terms that sounded almost poetic.