LITMIR.BIZ

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glint like a flame reflected in a frozen pond came into her eye. ‘Your rather inept attempts at lovemaking have frightened her.’

      ‘You lie! Ailsa said—’

      Lady Munro smiled coldly. ‘My daughter, Mr Ross, is too tender-hearted for her own good. She did not wish to hurt you with a rejection.’

      ‘That’s not true.’

      ‘Ailsa is just sixteen. Much too young to know her own mind, and very much too immature to be the subject of your animal lusts.’

      ‘I took no liberties with your daughter,’ Alasdhair growled, ‘my intentions were completely honourable. You can check with the laird, if you don’t believe me.’

      ‘What has my husband to do with this?’ Lady Munro asked sharply.

      ‘I am just come from asking his permission to court your daughter.’

      ‘And what did he say?’

      ‘He said exactly what you would wish him to say,’ Alasdhair informed her bitterly. ‘That I had ideas above my station. But before you start celebrating, you should know that I informed him that it wouldn’t make any difference. I won’t give her up, even though I am banished.’

      ‘The laird has exiled you?’

      ‘Aye. And don’t pretend you’re anything other than glad, for you’ve always hated me.’

      Lady Munro pursed her lips. ‘So you are finally to leave Errin Mhor. What do you intend to do?’

      ‘What I’ve always intended. I’m going to make a life for myself in America. Then I’ll come back for Ailsa. She’ll wait for me, I know she will.’

      Lady Munro’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think so, Mr Ross. Lord Munro and I have other plans for my daughter.’

      ‘I know all about your plans, the laird told me. But Ailsa loves me, she won’t let you marry her off to Donald McNair, no matter how good a match it is. She’ll wait for me, and I’ll prove you wrong, all of you. I’ll be every bit as good a match.’

      ‘No.’ Lady Munro’s voice was like cut glass. ‘No. My daughter’s place is here and she knows it.’

      ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t have time for this. Let me by, for I must see Ailsa before I go. I must explain to her that—’

      ‘Would you believe her if she told you herself?’ Lady Munro interrupted him ruthlessly.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You cannot talk to her here,’ Lady Munro continued, looking thoughtful now. ‘You have been banished, you should not even be here, and if his lordship finds out—well, we will all suffer, including Ailsa. You would not want that, I am sure.’

      ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

      ‘Hmm.’ Lady Munro considered him for a long moment, then finally smiled a very thin smile. ‘It goes much against my better judgement, but I will speak to Ailsa. If she tells you herself how she feels, will you promise to do her the honour of believing her and leave her alone?’

      ‘Yes, but—’

      Lady Munro raised an imperious hand. ‘You have vastly overestimated the strength of Ailsa’s feelings for you, Mr Ross, but you need not take my word for it. I will arrange a place and time for later tonight, well away from the castle, but I warn you, there is a limit to my influence. If she cannot bring herself to turn up, she will have spoken more eloquently than words ever could and I will hold you to your promise.’

       Spring 1748

      Alasdhair opened his eyes. ‘I waited for you like a fool, but of course you didn’t turn up. I realised then that your parents were both right. I was a naïve fool to think you loved me, and even if you had cared, why should you take a chance on someone with no firm prospects who wanted to uproot you from your family and home to take you halfway round the world? I left that night and I kept my promise to your mother. I never tried to get in touch with you again.’

      Beside him, Ailsa’s face was pale and streaked with tears. ‘Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for me,’ Alasdhair said roughly. ‘You’re six years too late for that.’

      She shook her head. ‘That’s not why I’m crying.’ The heartache of those days crashed over her like a breaker on to the shore. Ailsa stripped off her gloves and plucked at the brooch that held her arisaidh in place, unfastening the clasp, then trying to fasten it again, but her hands were shaking. The pin pricked her finger and the brooch fell on to the ground.

      ‘Here, let me.’

      Alasdhair picked it up. He leaned towards her, holding the plaid in place with one hand, fastening the pin through the cloth with the other. His coat sleeve brushed her chin. His fingers were warm through the layers of her clothing. The nails were neatly trimmed. The hands immaculately clean. Tanned. Capable hands. Alasdhair’s hands.

      She remembered them on the tiller that day. She remembered the way she’d pressed one of them to her cheek. He’d smelled of salt and sweat. Now he smelled of soap and expensive cloth and clean linen. And Alasdhair. Something she couldn’t describe, but it was him.

      ‘There.’

      He looked down at her and there it was again, for a split second. Recognition. A calling of like to like. And a yearning. She couldn’t breathe. He licked his lips, as if he was about to speak. He moved towards her just a fraction. Then he pulled away, shifted so that there was a defined space between them.

      ‘Your finger’s bleeding.’

      ‘It’s nothing.’ Without thinking, she put it in her mouth, sucking on the tiny cut.

      Alasdhair stared, fascinated. He forced himself to look away. ‘Why are you crying then, if not out of pity?’ he asked roughly.

      ‘You’ll understand when you hear my side of the story. Oh, Alasdhair, you will understand only too well, as I do now.’ Ailsa blinked back another tear and took a deep breath. ‘You remember my mother saw us from the drawing-room window that day on our way back from the island? When I went in she was furious. Said she’d been watching how we behaved together and she was becoming very concerned.’

      ‘Concerned about what?’

      ‘My honour.’ Ailsa laced her fingers together nervously, fidgeted with her gloves, pulling at the fingers of the soft leather, stretching them irretrievably out of shape. ‘“He’s making cat’s eyes at you.” You should have heard the way she said it—she made you sound like some predatory seducer. I told her you would never do anything to harm me.’

      ‘What did she say to that?’

      ‘She laughed at me. She said I would learn soon enough that all men were the same. She told me I needed to keep away from you for my own good. I’m sorry, but you said you wanted the truth.’

      ‘It’s all right. I’ve never been under any illusions about Lady Munro’s opinion of me.’

      ‘I’m sorry, all the same. I understood my father’s attitude, for you were never one to toe the line, and he was always one to expect it, from you especially for some reason, but my mother—to this day, I don’t know what it was about you that made her hate you so.’

      ‘My existence,’ Alasdhair said with a flippancy he was far from feeling. There was a part of him that didn’t want to hear any more, but there was another part of him that needed the whole unvarnished truth, no matter how unpalatable. ‘We have wandered from the subject.’

      ‘When my mother told me you’d been banished, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know you’d gone to my father to ask permission to court me—why would I when you’d said not a word to me? She told me you’d argued because you were set on leaving. She said you’d been banished because you’d defied him, that you’d thrown the

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