Chapter 9

"Idinnae ken, Malcolm, pal, but that"s some canny way ye have wi" the lasses. I"ll be sure to take lessons in yer technique!"

James refilled their drams, with a wry smile cracking his weathbeat face. For a moment, Malcolm remained blank, then, he shrugged, helplessly.

"Och," he smiled, taking a dram. He did not feel like smiling, but attempted to put a brave face on it anyway. "I"ll let ye in on a few o" my wee secrets..."

Sighing, Malcolm looked around the densely packed inn. It was heating up. Despite the epic wind, the tavern was snug. The plunging temperatures outside did not punctuate the heavy indoors - kept warm by the fire.

And Malcolm was more than heated already - the excitement of seeing Ainslee, setting his heart aflutter. If that was not enough, the half dozen drams he had taken had ensured he was sweating profusely.

And they were still not enough. Grasping his quaich, Malcolm drank deep, repouring another drink swiftly. Gulping it down, Malcolm sighed. Everything was comfortably numb,

"Women," remarked James, watching him tightly. Malcolm just rolled his eyes. He did not want to talk about it. Instead, his eyes wandered to the wooden slats, shaking with rain.

He had hoped to make it back home tonight, but now, that plan looked in tatters.

Seeing his thought process, James shook his head. "Nae, ye"ll nae make it to toon noo, lad," he said, with a smile.

Rousing himself, Malcolm knew he was right, but that didn"t make him happy.

"So, ye might as well make yersel" comfortable here for the night!" said James, with a wink. "Fir a few moments, I thought ye might make yersel" comfortable with yon Ainslee, an" me wi" her pal, but twas nae to be!"

He shot Malcolm a rueful glance, who laughed mirthlessly.

"Aye, I"m sorry about that, James," he said, watching around. What just happened hurt. How could it not? But Malcolm"s head was full of many things. Not least, the loose talk from the men at the bar, before.

Instinctively, his mind flashed back to what the fishermen had said about his brother, Bruce, being the laird.

Maybe James read his face. Putting his dram down, he looked inquisitively at Malcolm.

"So, what do ye make o" it all, lad," he said, thoughtfully, before adding. "An" I ken it is an awu" shock about yer father, an" all..."

"I ken," said Malcolm, his heart still heavy. "An" it is hard to get the measure o" it, but I think the fishermen were right..."

He drained his dram, as James waited to listen.

"That Bruce has pulled the wool o"oer their eyes, or at least, some o" them. But they seem to ken that there is something stinky aboot this, an" as God as my witness, I intend to get to the bottom o" it!"

James glanced at him sideways, before cocking his eyes around the bar. His dark gaze met and followed every comely lass in the building. Malcolm hid a smile. He knew James. If Marisse did not stick about, he would not either.

But James appeared to be thinking about something. For a moment, he tapped impatiently at his quaich, before looking quickly to Malcolm.

"Aye, ye should," he said softly, playing with the base of his cup. His wind beat hands stroked the wooden quaich deliberately. Malcolm wondered if he was in a hurry to set sail.

"So, then when ye off, next? Where are ye off next?" he asked as James looked uncharacteristically thoughtful. For a minute, it looked as if the captain had not heard him, but then he looked up.

"I dinnae ken," he said, eventually. "That would depend on ye..."

His eyes raised to Malcolm, who looked unsure.

"Me?" he said, surprised. The throng in the room was lifting. Suddenly, it was even louder than it had been before. If that was possible.

In between the noise of the thunder, and that of the chatter, it was becoming hard to hear what James was saying.

"Aye, ye," said James, pulling closer. "Because I am nae sure whether to return to the port, at all, at least for some time..."

Malcolm was puzzled. "Whit for?"

Glancing around, he wondered where Ainslee was. Had she got a room upstairs? The tantalizing prospect of knocking on her door later filled his head. Although of course, he wouldn"t. Would he?

Without realizing, Malcolm had begun to drift off. A combination of too many drams, and a stuffy room started a reverie in him.

He could just picture Ainslee in her room, taking off her shawls, and laying down among the rushes. Would she have a bath? He wondered.

He was deep in such thoughts, when James" voice brought him suddenly back into the room.

"Because I will come wi" ye, lad..."

Malcolm"s eyes shot open. Suddenly, he was wide awake. In surprise, he looked at James. His brown eyes fixed him with a deadly seriousness.

"Ye... ye will come wi" me?" Malcolm asked. James nodded, self-assured.

"Aye, like I said," he said, stretching out and setting his feet on the opposing bench. "Because if yer going to see yer brother, then, by all accounts, yer gonnae need all the help ye can get!"

Malcolm could not believe what he was hearing. "James, ye dinnae have to... ye"ve got a ship to lead... men to..."

He was speechless, his mouth opened and shut, without a sound. Seeing his face, James just laughed.

"An" yer my right hand man. An" if ye"ve got a problem, then it is my problem, like it was when we both overthrew Captain McGivern!"

Malcolm looked. James was serious. "I... cannae ask ye, to do this," he said.

James regarded him seriously. "Ye didnae ask. I offer. Because, as I said, yer problems are my problems, an" lad, is Bruce Duncan a problem!"

Malcolm did not know what to say. Amazed, he could only laugh.

"Well, yer nae wrong there, James," he said. Before adding, with gratitude. "An" I thank ye... for saying that. Perhaps I could do with some help there..."

"Nae fash, son. My only regret is that I didnae do it sooner - when ye first came aboard that boat... I should have helped ye then...," said James, with a sigh. "Now I ken the whole story, it is my duty to..."

His weathered face softened a while, as Malcolm felt himself strangely touched.

"Thank ye, James," he said, taking a slow dram. Then, grabbing the flask, he refilled James" quaich. "So then, here, I make a toast... to ye an" me... an" reclaiming what is rightfully mine!"

Lifting his cup, heartily, James grinned. "To Laird Malcolm!" he said, slightly too loud.

For the first time, tipplers turned around, wondering what the commotion was about. Malcolm and James exchanged rueful smiles.

"Aye," said Malcolm, trying to keep both his eyes, and the noise, down. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw attention to himself just then. "An" ye nae ken, perchance there"ll be a wee title in it for ye!"

But as he knocked back his umpteenth dram - and heaven knows, Malcolm had had a lot of them by then - the only feeling Malcolm had was of regret.

Ainslee"s hurt expression flashed through his eyes. He could not bear it. Seeing those amber brown eyes so dashed.

Bitterly, Malcolm downed the dram. It did not stop him hating himself right then.

Her disappointment was palpable. Whatever had happened concerning his abduction, something Ainslee had said resonated, hard.

"Whit, ye were dragged off...for a whole ten years?"

The disbelief in her face was clear to see. He had argued, but his sense of guilt would not abate.

Maybe she had a point. Yes, he was abducted. But could he have not tried a bit more to get back? Especially after the retaking of the Margret Rose from the first captain. Perhaps he could have made it back to see her, a bit sooner.

Furrowing his brow, Malcolm frowned.

Guilt flooding his heart, Malcolm shrugged helplessly at the oncoming wind. Downing his drink, he sighed.

He had let her down. It was up to him to put it right.

He had to find some way of getting Ainslee back.