Chapter 11

"Ainslee, so then, lass, um, how fare ye?"

Silence.

Beside him on the horse, Ainslee blanked him completely. It was an impressive 360 degree blanking. Even when Malcolm"s stallion threw a wobbly, nearly jettisoning him from his saddle she didn"t look.

Marisse did though. With a yelp she cried.

"Jings! Whit was that?"

But Malcolm wasn"t looking. He was still fixated on her, her perfect face straight forward, as if it was cut from stone. Finally, when he had clambered back aboard his horse, he burst out laughing.

That did it. Against her better judgment, Ainslee turned to him.

"Whit"s so funny?" she demanded, her pure skin twisted into a frown. Malcolm could not help smiling at her.

"Ye are, lass, that is quite some pout," he said, taking the reins again on his frisky stallion. Just his luck to have been set up with a horse that didn"t believe in being ridden!

Ainslee harrumphed, a bit like his horse, and flicked her hair. Malcolm broadened his grin.

"See, there ye go again, ah, well, ye always were good at giving the evil eye...!"

Malcolm surveyed the bleak landscape as they went. It was a dreich day, damp, gray and altogether unpleasant. The galloping rain, which so far had left off, risked making a comeback. Right then, he didn"t care.

Everything he had dreamed for the last ten years had culminated. He was going home, with Ainslee by his side. For a second, everything was alright.

But there was one problem; she was not talking to him.

Facing her again, Ainslee swished her head away, leaving Malcolm back to square one. He had to find some way of cracking the conversation open - but how?

As they trotted, he could not help watching her flawless form. The last ten years had been kind to her; barely a line anywhere, and her hair was every bit as silken as he recalled. Gazing at her smooth face, his eyes could not help wandering down to her hands. As she gathered the reins to her horse, he examined them closely. Was she wearing a ring?

Some time passed before he could ascertain she was not. With a bump, he remembered the love ring he had given to her, as a token of their engagement. It was nowhere to be seen.

Bitterly, he wondered what had happened to it, and whether she was engaged - or even married - to anyone else. Opening his mouth, Malcolm tried to put together the words in his head. But he was struggling to speak.

A daunting silence opened up. The longer it went on, the harder it was to pierce. If he was not careful, Malcolm would never speak to her.

Coughing, he went in for the kill.

"So, then, Ainslee, whit"ve ye been doing wi" yersel" for the last ten years?"

Malcolm"s question surprised even himself. Was he doing this? Apparently, he was.

Ainslee looked at him like she had been struck.

"Ye whit?" she said. Malcolm stammered out his question, again.

"How fare ye, lass?" he asked, but genuinely, and this time looking right at her in the eyes.

Maybe it was his gaze, but it was harder for her to unpin herself from his question this time.

"Fare?" snapped Ainslee, but under her breath. "Ye make it sound like naething... it was ten years, Malcolm, ten years? How do ye think it"s gone?"

Marisse turned around, swishing her white blonde hair as she did. She delivered a dirty stare at Malcolm, before calmly turning back. Malcolm did not let it distract him. He focused ahead and on Ainslee.

"I dinnae ken," said Malcolm, simply, his green eyes refusing to let her go. But Ainslee was retreating. If he was not quick, she would ride ahead, removing the chance for them to speak.

"I dinnae ken how it"s been for ye, Ainslee, but I would like to ken, however, I can tell ye about what happened to me," Malcolm took a deep breath. He could feel he was losing her. All the same, a quick glance from her to him proved she was listening.

Good.

"An" the truth is, I couldnae stop thinking aboot ye, these last ten years. I was snatched away, Ainslee. Ye think I went off to sea for the fun o" it?"

Malcolm"s eyes were widening. It was as if he could not comprehend the thought that anyone could believe this. "Ye think I went away because I liked the sea? Wheesht! Do ye have any idea how hard it is?"

Malcolm"s incredulity almost dripped. He was alight with passion. "Ye couldnae be more wrong if ye do...Nae lass, I mean it. I didnae want to be there, an" couldnae wait to be back wi" ye...!"

Blood rose in Malcolm"s cheeks. He had not expected to feel so strongly. But a decade's worth of pain just reappeared, and he felt strangely overwhelmed.

It didn"t seem to affect Ainslee though.

"Couldnae wait to be in some strumpet"s bed, more likely," she snipped. Malcolm was stunned.

Flashing her dark eyes around to him, Ainslee finally delivered a snippet of emotion. Just for a moment, she was glassy eyed. It did not last, and soon she reverted to her steely gaze.

"I heard whit he said to ye... remember Dublin... aye, I ken what he meant. Malcolm, yer a sailor... an" have a lass in every port... maybe even two!"

Ainslee had worked herself into quite a rage, and Malcolm felt pricked.

"I, I," he began. A combination of guilt and indignation burned within him. "I mean, aye, there were lasses," he conceded, finally.

Ainslee shot him a look.

"I... I am a man, Ainslee, ye ken what that is... but, there was naething... no one special. I never had a sweetheart, nae once. Never..."

His face pressed to her, but she pulled away. In front of them, he was aware of the others - Marisse and James listening in, but it did not matter. None if it did. The only thing was making her understand.

But she did not. From the hard, truculent look on Ainslee"s face, she was not having any of it. Straining to get further away, Ainslee nudged her horse on. Quickly, Malcolm followed suit, and soon they were engaged in almost a race, to be side by side.

Pulling up alongside the dappled mare, he winked at her. "There"s nae use lass, I can easily outrun yer wee mare... why dinnae ye just concede defeat?"

This did not have the desired effect, but maybe Malcolm knew that anyway. Of course, Ainslee pulled away in a huff, which set Malcolm further galloping after her. Maybe he was even enjoying it a bit. Who knows, perhaps she was?

Faster and faster, he followed her, until the road became so bumpy that it was impossible for her little horse to go any further. Reluctantly, she stopped, getting her bearings, and settling her flummoxed horse.

As she comforted the poor mite - the petite dappled mare really was not used to going fast - Ainslee shot daggers to Malcolm.

"See what ye"ve done!" she said, her dark eyes flashing. Malcolm just shook his head.

"There was nae any need to run, darling," he said, and Ainslee stared like she hated him. Dismounting from her horse, she walked over to him.

Malcolm, who had brought his horse to a stop also, waited for her. For a moment, he was hopeful, but then he saw her pose.

But Ainslee"s face was a white-hot picture of fury. As she walked purposefully toward him, it was clear there was no hope of a truce.

"Nae, never, do that again to me - or my poor horse!" she fumed, her voice turning low and dangerous. Malcolm watched her sinewy frame as it moved towards him.

Even enraged, she was compelling. Something in the way she walked, it just got him. Everything about how he loved her came flashing back. Feeling hot, then cold, Malcolm gazed, perplexed.

Do what, he nearly asked, but the look on Ainslee"s face almost froze him. She might have been talking about the chase, but it was clear from her eyes she meant everything that had happened. From her frosty poise, to her clenched jaw. He had never seen her so livid.

It turned him on. A hot flush of passion surged through him. Struggling to stay composed, he watched Ainslee as she turned, back ramrod straight, and walked back to her poor horse.

"Ainslee," murmured Malcolm, but it was no good. She stopped, and hit him with the force of her ice cold stare.

She didn"t even need words. She hated him. That much was clear. Now she was looking at him, cooly. Stopping before mounting her mare, she shook her head.

"Ye say ye wanted to ken how I was... well, I am the same. I nae married, there ye are. I waited. But ye? Ye didnae, I think that says all it needs to!"

Her brown eyes lowered, as she returned to her horse. Aggrieved, Malcolm started.

"Nae!" he said. "Ye"ve got this all wrong... I mean... It tis nae the way ye think it... those lasses, didnae mean anything..."

Ainslee eyed him pointedly. Backed against the cliffs and the sea, it felt as he was explaining to the whole world about his infidelity. Uncomfortably, Malcolm flinched.

Crashing waves broke their way over the rocks to the road. The tide was coming in. Malcolm"s thoughts panged back to the Margret Rose, tied up in the harbor. Would he ever see it again?

It did not bother him one jot if he did not. Nor any of the lasses he had met on his journeys.

All that mattered was making Ainslee understand.

But she didn"t. Sadly, she mounted back on her dappled mare. "Nae, Malcolm, I think ye mean we didnae matter..."

"Ainslee!" Malcolm shouted, sharply. This time it was so loud that James turned around. Slightly ahead of them on the road, both he and Marisse slowed their horses to a medium trot. But Malcolm shook him off with an abrupt stare. He did not even care if he heard them, right then, it was just about her

The wintery winds wailed, as Malcolm struggled to distract Ainslee. So, he could not race her, but he could appeal to her better nature.

"Ainslee, lass, listen. I nae left ye because I wanted to. Yer listening to lies...!"

For a moment, Ainslee paused, her dark eyes glanced strangely at him, lingering for a minute or two. Then, she shook her head.

"Nae," she said, after a pause. "And anyway, it is all too late...," her eyes raised pointedly. "About ten years too late..."

* * *

"Let"s stop,"James brought the company to an abrupt halt. Only a mile from the village, he pulled up, sheltering beside the mountain side.

Ainslee looked at Marisse, then sniffed in disdain. She could not bring herself to acknowledge Malcolm, riding alongside her. Right then, she wanted to forget he even existed.

"Why," she huffed, tugging the reins of her dappled horse. But as the others slowed to a halt, it was impossible to get any further.

"Here," said Marisse, without explaining. Silently, Ainslee stopped, tugging her already weary horse"s reins. Once again, she dismounted, but sulkily, walking up to Marisse, waiting for her.

"We"ll nae get anywhere at this rate," Ainslee tutted, with a parting glance to her horse. Privately, she was worried about getting anywhere at all on the reluctant little mare. The horse, which had carried her yesterday, seemed to have gone as far as it wanted to.

In honesty, Ainslee shouldn"t be surprised. She was aged, and delicate. Really, she was only good for short rides, and the long trip back to the Duncan clan was anything but. However, this meant she was now stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with Malcolm nearby.

"We"d be better off on oor own, wi"out the distraction o" men!" Ainslee added, cursing the bandits that had sent them on this long winded route. "All they"ve done is slow us doon!"

"Come on, let"s blather a wee while," said Marisse, who seemed to have an ulterior motive. Ainslee shrugged, but followed her friend to the sheltered mountain, to sit nearby.

As she did, her eyes strayed to Malcolm. He too was leaving his horse, to lean into James, where he seemed to be having an intense chat.

"What is it?" said Ainslee, suspicious. She saw her friend glance to James and began to feel somehow as if she had been set up. "Has he told ye to talk to me?" she asked.

Marisse looked at her, distracted. "Wheesht!" but she glanced at James, before drawing a stray hair from her face, and shaking her head. "Yer bum"s oot the window, lass, if ye think I"d do anything for him... I wouldnae e"en piddle on him if he were on fire!"

Ainslee raised her brows, but said nothing. Instead, she looked back at Marisse.

"One thing, though, he did say," she began, concedingly. "Is that we need to stay together... this road if awfu" dangerous... wi" brigands and robbers from all around. It would be awfu" daft o" us nae to accept this escort..."

"Hum," said Ainslee, not convinced. "Because, it"s nae as if we didnae come doon here on oor own, yesterday?"

Her brows arched pertinently to Marisse, who sniffed.

"Aye, an" we were lucky, that time," she said, fixing Ainslee with her most persuasive stare. "An" anyhoo, there"s more to it than that..."

Thought so.

Ainslee watched her friend closely. But the declaration she was expecting did not come.

"Ye see, James has been telling me...o" hoo Malcolm is determined to take his place... as the head o" the clan. An" ye an" me both ken... that Laird Bruce is nae good for any o" us... I mean, Ainslee, look at the way he treated ye!"

Marisse"s big blue eyes looked imploringly at her. Ainslee felt the full force of them scorch and burn her. There was no escape.

"Aye," said Ainslee, wondering where this was going. "And?"

"And," said Marisse, watching her imploringly. "We can do something about it...Ainslee, lass, we need to unite wi" yer Malcolm - at least for the good o" the clan... We must support him, an" help him become laird..."

Ainslee grumbled a bit, but could not really argue. "I ken," she said, simply. "Braw. I will support Malcolm to be the laird... but that is all!"

Her eyes sparkled with indignation. She did not believe anything Malcolm had told her. But even so, she had to accept him as her laird.

Nudging her arm, Marisse looked up with a nod. Ainslee looked over.

There was Malcolm.

With a rippling grin, he came closer. The wind parted his hair, illuminating it in hues of red gold. Ainslee could not help staring.

She had missed him, and wished she didn"t. Now he was here, larger than life and just too much for her to cope with. She turned her head before she saw any more.

But all her posturing came to nothing. Mal simply stood before her, a twinkle in his emerald green eyes, and smiled.

"So then, ladies, are we ready maybe to continue oor ride?"

And right then, Ainslee knew she still wanted him. But she"d be damned if let him know.

Malcolm Duncan could rot.

* * *

"So then,hen? How"s the village? Yer father still in his shop?"

This time, Malcolm chose his words more carefully. Focusing down on Ainslee, Malcolm waited for the awkwardness to settle and smiled.

The coastal path inched gradually inland, taking with it the dramatic cliffs and irate seagulls. A different air, more sheltered and scented hit them.

Malcolm turned to Ainslee brightly, on his horse. He wore his best smile, but she was not worn down that easily. All the same, he tried.

"Father is just the same, thank ye, but I cannae say the same aboot the clan!" she replied, through narrowed eyes.

It was still cold, but a different type. The freshness of the sea air was replaced by a damp coldness that was all pervasive, yet not as raw. Malcolm shivered, the change in the air went deep, even if it was nothing like the savagery he was used to at sea.

Anxiously, he glanced at Ainslee. Her dark hair flying across the wind, she was sweeter than he ever remembered her. But her face was closed and sharp. In her eyes, there was not even a chink of light to let him in.

"What do ye mean aboot the clan?" asked Malcolm, fearfully. His stomach was tight, leaning into his stallion, he strained to hear as they galloped into the neck of the road.

Rounding the small bend, Ainslee eyed him reluctantly. "I mean, the midden it"s been, since ye left," she said flatly.

"Midden?" repeated Malcolm, limply. He felt something go through him like lead. He had a feeling that things hadn"t been good - from the talk of the locals in The Ship. But this was the first time he had heard anything directly.

"Aye, midden," Ainslee"s eyes shot through with pain. Malcolm felt shaken. But all the same, he let her continue. "Since ye left, the clan"s fallen to ruin. Bandits, fighting, hunger... it"s all gone tae shit..."

Malcolm"s cheeks turned a little pale. "Whit...whit do ye mean?"

Ainslee fixed him with a stare. "I mean just that... Bruce is nae a leader! He cannae stop the raids, an" fights.... There is nae protection for the elders...The clan"s best men are all gone, or dead - many braw lads slayed in fights, some o" them, yer pals... Women are nae safe, but worse, there"s terrible hunger...an" disease... We need help, Malcolm!"

The look she delivered left Malcolm in no doubt of what she meant. And if he had been, she spelled it out. Slowing down and getting ready to dismount, Ainslee pulled in at the side of the road. With the others eying her carefully, she stood, in wait, for Malcolm to slow also.

He did. Dismounting his large stallion, he walked up to her, with upturned eyes. Now he was at her side, waiting.

"I didnae ken," he said, simply, his heart rushing through. Ainslee eyed him with disdain.

"Didnae ken, or didnae care?" she snapped. She jumped down to stand next to him. Malcolm bristled with despair.

"Ainslee, I..."

"Dinnae," said Ainslee, pushing him away. The others were watching, but it was clear that Ainslee did not care. Her brown eyes followed him accusingly, as his head heated with indignation.

"Dinnae," she said again, as Malcolm attempted to come near. "Dinnae e"en think it... Ye ken, we could have used yer help, whilst ye went off, gallivanting at sea! So yer back noo, well, "laird Malcolm", what are ye doing aboot it?"

Malcolm stared, his patience wearing thin. Behind him, James had come to a complete stop. With a quick glance to Malcolm, he was on his feet. Dismounting, James rushed to Malcolm"s side.

Ainslee watched him unsurely, then Malcolm gave a nod.

"Off ye come," said Malcolm, his voice wavering. The anger he felt was real, but he did not want to hurt her. Gently, he lifted her down from her small mare. Before Ainslee could know what was happening, Malcolm had mounted the dappled mare, surprising both the pony and its owner in equal measure.

Slowing to a stop behind them, Marisse opened her mouth. "Crivens...Whit the...?"

Malcolm left the friend standing. Starting to trot, he grabbed the reins of his own horse, stopping Ainslee from getting them. Then he was on his way, the heavy stallion following behind him.

"Get off!" yelled Ainslee, her anger was white hot. But it was no match for Malcolm, and the way he felt then.

With a brief shrug of the shoulders, Malcolm rode on, leaving both Ainslee and Marisse high and dry.

"Come back Malcolm! Give me my horse back!"