Peyton did not recognise the voice. ‘I have come to speak with Lorna,’ he said.
‘My daughter has nought to say to you. Get you gone. I want you off my land, Peyton Strachan.’
‘It is Laird Strachan, haven’t you heard?’
‘Aye, I’ve heard. A villainous bunch, the Strachans, and you, as bad as any. Lorna wants nought to do with you. Be off.’
‘I want to hear that from her own lips, and I’ll not take no for an answer,’ he said.
Douglas Gilpin tried to slam the door, but Peyton put his boot to it. Lorna appeared at her father’s shoulder. ‘It is alright, Father. Let me speak to him, please.’
‘Very well. If you must, but be quick about it,’ snapped her father.
‘You may keep watch on me from the house.’ Lorna rushed out and dragged Peyton away.
‘Keep watch?’ he cried. ‘Does he think you have reason to fear me, lass?’
‘No, but you should not have come here unannounced. We have a visitor.’
‘Who?’
‘His name is Giles Roper. He is a friend of my father’s.’
‘Well, he’s not important. Look at me, Lorna.’
She stared at the ground as the wind wafted her hair about her face. She looked uncommonly bonnie, yet remote, as if he could not touch her.
‘Why will you not look me in the eye, lass? Why so distant? Are we strangers now, after what he shared?’
‘Hush. Do not speak of that ever again. You cannot,’ she hissed, eyes darting back to the house. ‘My father is listening. Would you shame me and make me your whore in his eyes?’
‘No, I would make you my wife.’
‘Stop. Do not say anything else. We sinned, but we can sin no more.’
‘Lorna, I have shown my devotion for years, and if I slipped, and it spilt over into lust, then forgive me for that dishonour. But I need a straight answer, lass. You cannot leave me hanging.’
She sighed. ‘Why must you come on this of all days? I thought I had made it clear. I told you to stay away.’
‘Since when have I ever done as I was told, lass?’ he said, laughing, but she did not laugh with him as she once would have. Peyton went to take her hand, and she flinched.
‘Am I so repulsive as a suitor all of a sudden?’ he said quietly.
She glanced back at the house and then met his eye. ‘Aye, you are.’
The cruelty of her words took his breath away. ‘What are you saying, Lorna?’
‘That I don’t want you,’ she spat. ‘I don’t want to be your wife. I never did because you frighten me, Peyton. I have a better suitor now, a man who is not always brawling, cursing and stinking of ale and sin.’
‘What suitor?’
‘My father has found me a safe man who can give me a comfortable, respectable life. That will never be you. He is here, now. So go, and do not come back here.’
Lorna rushed away, leaving him standing like a fool in the ashes of his hopes. He rushed to his horse, and as he took one last look back, Lorna’s father came out of the house with another man – tall, lean and greying at the temples - his replacement in Lorna’s affections. The man narrowed his eyes, and Peyton wondered at their venom. He kicked his horse and rode like the furies, humiliation following him down the path like a crushing shadow.
***
Even in the middle of the day, Rascal’s Inn was rowdy with drunken men – mostly merchants and travellers seeking shelter from the winter’s chill. They sought other diversions, too, and that had been Peyton’s plan. He sought to cleanse his palate of women and all the turmoil they caused - Lorna with her frigid dismissal, his sister, Lowri driving him mad with worry, and Cecily MacCreadie unmanning him with her beautiful, almost wanton defiance. What a handsome couple she and Glendenning would make. Peyton pictured them, blonde heads together, whispering secrets. He almost choked on his bitterness.
