Page 12 of Highlander’s Devious Ally

“I will cut a long story short,” he said, his eyes gleaming at her maliciously. “Why do you think your father was so insistent on you marrying me?”

She shrugged. “He would never tell me,” she replied. “Why?”

“Because there is a curse on you,” he answered. “That curse will fall should we not be married. Your company will fail, you will lose your parents, and all you hold dear will be utterly destroyed.”

“And why would you want to marry a woman with a curse on her?” Ailith asked, her voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. She did not believe in curses, reasoning that people made their own destiny.

“It is not really on you,” he replied. “Your father was meant to marry my father’s sister, my Aunt Agnes, a very beautiful young woman, but also a witch. When your father saw her friend, your mother Maria, however, he was immediately smitten and married her instead. Agnes died of a broken heart, but before she died, she put a curse on your father and mother. She cursed them with no sons, and only one daughter, and she cursed that daughter to a loveless marriage—with me—and if you do not marry me your life will be ruined. The reason she chose me was because your father and my father disliked each other intensely. I was only two years old then, but the story has been passed down to me, and it is true.”

She did not think Jock was the most intelligent man she ever knew, but hearing those words from his mouth was a surprise.

“You actually believe in curses?” she asked in disbelief. “An educated man like you?”

“Yes, I do,” he answered, “because I have seen evidence of them.”

“I pity you,” Ailith answered scathingly. “But why would she want a member of my family to join with yours when they did you so much harm?”

“Because once we are married you will be my property,” he replied. “Mine to do as I like with. Whatever and whenever I like.”

7

Another Night

Ailith felt a tremor of fear trickle down her spine. He was staring at her with an expression she had never seen before, an evil leer that terrified her to the depths of her soul. She turned to rush to the door and Jock followed her, but in his eagerness to catch her, he tripped over the chair she had knocked over and fell headlong. She heard his cry of pain as he bumped his elbow on the floor, then she ran out. She knew that a sore arm would not keep him down for long, so she was relieved when she found a key in the lock and turned it so that he was locked in. She put the key in her pocket.

She forced herself to be calm as she walked out to the courtyard and retrieved her horse, but she could not fully relax till she was outside and over the moat. After that, she urged her mount into a gallop and she was soon far away from the castle. She was sure Jock had managed to escape by now, but even if he had sent a company in pursuit of her, she had too big a lead. But where to now?

Ailith decided that going to her own house was too dangerous since Jock knew where she lived, so she decided to go to an inn in the village of Inverleith where she could lay her head for the night. It was not the kind of place she would have picked had she any other choice, but she was desperate and frightened. All she wanted to do now was to lie down and sleep, and hope that perhaps when she woke up she would find that it had all been a dream.

She was only a quarter of a mile from the village when she saw the horseman cantering up the trail towards her. He must be an expert horseman, she thought, because it was almost dark, but there was a beautiful full moon flitting in and out of the clouds which helped a little.

Lyall recognized her first. “Ailith?” he asked in disbelief, pulling his mount up beside her. He put a hand out to pull on the rains and gently bring her to a halt. “How did you get here? Why are you alone in the dark?”

She gazed at him wordlessly for a moment, feeling a great surge of relief, then she burst into tears.

“Ailith!” he cried as he swiftly dismounted and helped her to do the same. He gathered her into his arms and held her while she sobbed on his shoulder. He was terrified because anything could have happened to her, and angry at the same time, because whatever it was must have had something to do with Jock. He was sure of it.

Presently she calmed down and he wiped her face with his handkerchief. “Where are you going?” he asked. “And why?”

“To the inn in the village,” she replied, her voice trembling.

“You cannot go there!” he protested. “It is full of the worst sort of people, Ailie. Come back to my castle, then you can explain what has happened. It seems you will be staying with us again tonight.”

He helped her onto his own horse and got up behind her, and in half an hour they were there. The emotional toll of the evening had tired her out but when he took her in his arms to carry her upstairs she protested.

“No Lyall, I need to tell you about this,” she said desperately. “If I do not tell someone I will go mad.”

He nodded and they went in through the main entrance to a warm parlor. She was shivering as she sat down and he threw his cloak over her, then sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me what made you go out riding in the dark, Ailie.” His voice was gentle, but puzzled. “I am sure you did not do it by choice.”

She sighed, then covered her face with her hands. “It is Jock,” she murmured. “He knew that I came here last night and we quarrelled about it. He told me things that I did not know, things that I wish I did not know now.”

Tears were running down her cheeks again and he gathered her into a tender embrace and waited until she was ready to speak again.

At last, she took a deep breath and began to tell him what had happened. As the story went on he grew angrier and angrier as he realized how Ailith had been so badly used, and he knew with certainty that if Jock had been standing in front of him at that moment he would have killed his enemy without a second thought.

“He is not fit to breathe the same air as decent people,” he growled, then something occurred to him. “Ailith, did he touch you in any way?” His voice was anxious, but had an edge of anger to it.