“Aye, your uncle does mean to try and trick me into letting down my guard. But he will find that I am not so easily fooled.”
“It seems odd that he has left it so late to try this ploy. If it fails, then he has no other choice but to wait until spring. ‘Tisna often that one can make a successful attack in the winter.”
“He will have to act now and be quickly successful if he is to end this by winter.”
“And ye dinna think he will act now or quickly.”
“Nay. He hopes to make me take the first step—a misstep, of course. By the time he decides I willna do as he wants, then ‘twill be too late to do anything until the late spring, early summer. Soon we will reach the time of the year when, if ye arena hindered by the snow and the cold, ye are caught in the rain and the mud.”
“Then I had best be on my way, or I shall soon be trapped here.” She saw by the quick, sharp way he looked at her that he would fight her leaving Rathmor, and that both relieved and irritated her.
“And just where do ye think ye would go?” Alexander knew it would be wise to just let her go, but he also knew he would not do it. “Ye are still my prisoner.”
“Why? What reason can ye have? My kinsmen willna pay, so ye gain no profit from keeping me. Since there isna a man in all of Scotland who would believe me a maid after I have stayed six weeks with ye, then ye already have your vengeance. There is no more use for me here.”
“As I have said—ye care for the children,” he said roughly. “They like ye to be near.”
“So I shall stay near. I just willna remain in Rathmor.”
“Ye will stay here!” he yelled as he stood up and slammed his fist down on the table.
“Why?”
“Because ye can still be useful here. Aye, and ye could prove useful to your kinsmen. There is a lot ye could tell them about Rathmor—about its strengths and weaknesses. Nay, ye will stay here until I give you leave to go.”
“So be it, but I willna stay in your bed.”
“I hadna noticed that ye found it such a distasteful place to be.”
“Ye have some skill, and we both have a passionate nature.” She shrugged. “I grow weary of being the pawn in this game between ye and my uncle. Ye took my maidenhead, let that be enough. If I must stay here, then ‘twill not be to continue as your whore. Ye shame me before the children, and I willna abide it any longer.”
“Fine, have it your way.” He strode to the door, unbolted it, and yanked it open. “Get out.” As she started by him, he grabbed her by the arm and forced her to look at him. “Ye will soon change your mind.”
“I dinna think so.”
“Nay? Ye hunger for what we share as much as I do.”
“Aye, but ‘tis a greed for something offered only at night. Ye slip into the bed, and we grab at the heat we share like bairns after a sweet. Then comes the dawn and ye turn cold, pushing me aside. I dinna think even using me to strike at Donald made me feel quite so much the whore as that does. I have had enough of it. Since ye only spare me such warmth at night, in that bed, then I shall take myself away from ye at that time and in that place.”
“Ye willna be able to hold to this plan.”
“I will, for ye are a cold, even cruel, man during the day. Ye offer a lass nothing. Ye blame me for things I had naught to do with. I grow weary of being the brunt of your troubles and angers. Keep them. I shall miss your skill and the hint of feeling ye gave me in the night, but it no longer outweighs the shame of how ye treat me all day.” She yanked free of his hold and marched away.
Alexander watched her until she was out of sight, then slammed the heavy door after her. He knew what game she played. She wanted him to offer her more than his passion. He would not. Never again would he open himself to some woman, trust her, and make himself vulnerable. He had already given Ailis far more than he had given any other woman in several years. If Ailis was too blind to see that, then it was simply too bad. He would not invite her back into his bed.
A chill wind slipped through the torch- and moonlit bailey, and Ailis held her cloak more securely around her. It was only mid-September, but it was already colder than she liked. She feared it would prove to be a very long, hard winter. That was the last thing she needed, she thought as she glared up at the tall familiar figure on the west wall. He was not looking at her, but instinct told her that he had been. Alexander had become like some persistent shadow, watching her all the time. It was growing almost impossible to ignore.
She released a soft, bitter laugh, then quickly checked to be sure no one had heard her. There were a few people who already questioned her sanity. After all, only a madwoman would leave Alexander MacDubh’s bed. At first Ailis had found that attitude faintly amusing. Now she wondered if there might be some truth to it. There were times in the night, when she lay awake twisted with hunger for Alexander, that she questioned her own sanity. All she seemed to get in return for her attempt to regain some dignity was sharing a bed with Sibeal and dreaming about sharing one with Alexander. She also spent a lot of time in the evening walking around the inner bailey, trying desperately to soothe some of the growing emptiness, the tense restlessness, that was stealing so much of her sleep. Ailis hoped people would think her walking was due to her growing tired of captivity, but she feared they all knew exactly why she walked almost every night.
As she started a third circumvention of the keep, she finally caught Alexander looking at her. He stood up on his wall flanked by three men-at-arms and stared down at her. She stuck her tongue out at him. It was childish and she knew it, but there was a mild sense of pleasure in it.
Alexander heard the snickers of the men near him but decided to ignore it. He started to walk along the wall, following Ailis. It had been nearly a month since she had left his bed. Once or twice he had contemplated using one of the other willing wenches at Rathmor to ease the hunger that gnawed at him, but he knew they would be no help. Once or twice he had even contemplated going and getting Ailis and dragging her back to his bed. What could she do to stop him? Each time he had asked himself that question, Alexander had decided that he did not really want an answer. So he slept alone. Or, at least, he tried to sleep. More times than not he lay awake wanting Ailis. He had begun to avoid her as much as possible, afraid that his need would overwhelm his sense of right and wrong, and that he might actually try to forcefully take what she refused him. The thought of that appalled him.
“So why do ye stalk her now?” he muttered to himself as he reached a narrow flight of steps that led to the bailey and started down them. “Ye would be wise to stay away. Ye are in a condition where begging wouldna be beyond all possibility, and she would sore love to hear that from ye.”
“Sir?” asked a man-at-arms who waited patiently at the foot of the steps.
“Where did that lass go?” Alexander demanded.
