Page 59 of Tangled in a Highland Conspiracy
“This is what John would have wanted,” the Laird answered. “Go.”
Ramsay sprang to his feet and rushed out of the Laird’s office. His father watched him leave and realised that the son he had begotten with his mistress was a fine man. The Laird did not have much time left to walk the earth, but he would spend every second of it telling everyone he knew how blessed he was to have a son like Ramsay. He would have to eat a lot of very bitter humble pie, but he supposed he deserved it.
* * *
Ailsa had tried her best to keep herself busy; she was teaching Katrina to knit, a craft that Lady Davina had taught Ailsa at a very young age. She went out riding on Maisie with her mother and sister too, and tried to become lost in a few books from their extensive library. Yet she knew that these were only ways of killing time, and when she thought of where she really wanted to be, she always ended up at the same place; by Ramsay’s side.
It had been six weeks since John’s death and there had been no communication at all. Ailsa wondered if she should write him a casual letter asking about his welfare, but she did not have the courage after the last unpleasant episode with written messages that had led to John’s death.
She had almost given up hope when a letter was delivered to the castle by a messenger bearing the Ormond livery. It was a sign of the times that the man could wear these colours, since he would have been attacked by McBain forces a few months earlier.
The letter was addressed to Ailsa, and she stared at it for a long time, almost afraid to open it. All that was written on the front was her name in a bold upright hand that was unmistakably masculine.
Tentatively, she broke the seal and read the letter inside, and a slow smile spread over her face as she took in the meaning of the words.
My dearest Ailsa,it read.I hope you have been missing me as much as I have been missing you. As you know, the entire family has been in mourning for John, and I miss him terribly. Consequently, I have not been able to correspond with you. As well as that, I have had to learn so many new skills that it has kept me busy from dawn to dusk.
I am still in official mourning, but Father has given me permission to come and see you, and I have news to tell you. Will you meet me? Please send you answer with this messenger,
Fond regards,
Ramsay.
Ailsa suddenly felt a great weight lifting off her shoulders as she read the letter again, and then she breathed a huge sigh of relief and went to her chamber to scribble a reply. She could hardly contain her happiness and felt like whooping and dancing for joy.
Dear Ramsay,she wrote.I would be very happy to see you the day after tomorrow, and I greatly look forward to your visit.
Love,
Ailsa.’
She could not keep the smile off her face for the rest of the day, then tossed and turned all night, because the thought of being in Ramsay’s arms again was so arousing. Nevertheless, Ailsa woke up from her fitful sleep fully rested and raring to go. Her father had hired a new maid for her, an Irishwoman called Naimh who had impeccable credentials. She was efficient and never put a foot wrong, but she never spoke unless spoken to first, and Ailsa missed the companionship she had enjoyed with Molly.
However, she would not make the mistake of becoming friendly with any more of her maids.Once bitten, twice shy,she thought.
She instructed Naimh to dress her as smartly as possible without making her look as if she was going to a ball and went to meet Ramsay dressed in a plain green linen dress that brought out the colour of her eyes, as well as a matching shawl. She hoped that Ramsay would consider her the picture of understated elegance.
* * *
Ramsay would not have cared if Ailsa had come to see him dressed in a flour sack. He was simply desperate to see her, and if she felt the same about him he would be completely content.
When he rode into Mulrigg castle, he was surprised to be greeted by cheers, back slaps, and handshakes from all the staff, from maidservants and members of the castle garrison to stable boys and gardeners. They all thought of him as the man who had prevented yet another clan conflict, and though he was an Ormond, he was welcome among them. He was embarrassed to be the centre of so much attention, however, not being used to any recognition at all.
Then he saw Ailsa. It seemed as if he had not seen her for years, and although he was so ecstatic he wanted to rush forward and pull her into his arms, he resisted the impulse; it was too public a place and there was too big an audience.
In front of the staff, Ailsa was careful not to look too eager to see Ramsay, but she could not help the smile of joy on her face as their eyes met. When he strode forward to grasp her hands, he returned the smile, then said, “You look lovelier than ever, Ailsa.”
She laughed softly. “So do you,” she replied. Ramsay was wearing a new kilt in the Ormond tartan, a cream coloured linen shirt, and a soft black leather jacket. Ailsa had never seen him so well-dressed. “You look splendid, Ramsay.”
At that moment, Ailsa’s father came into the room and smiled at Ramsay. He had been told of his arrival and suspected that he knew why he was visiting them. The Laird extended his hand to greet Ramsay. “Good to see you, Master Ormond,” he said warmly. “You look well.”
“Thank you, M’Laird,” Ramsay replied. “I am sorry for not coming to see you before now, but as you can understand we are still in mourning.”
“Of course,” Laird McBain patted his shoulder. “ Once again, I am sorry for your loss. Come and have a glass of ale.”
“Perhaps later, M’Laird,” Ramsay said. “I wish to speak to Ailsa if both of you consent.” He looked nervous.
The Laird looked at Ailsa, who nodded. “Yes, Ramsay. I would love to have a chat with you.” Her words were casual, but her eyes said something else as she looked at him. “May we go up to the top of Mulrigg Brae?” she asked. “There is a lovely view from there.”
