Page 47 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

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He was gone.

Aileen sat miserably in the window seat of her chamber, needle poised in hand, ready to exact lasting revenge on the sampler she was stitching. She needed to take it out on something.

In the last few fading strains of light, she had watched as Scott had ridden away.

Watching his dark head disappear over the horizon, Aileen sighed miserably. The only thing that surprised her was it had taken this long.

The whole castle seemed to buzz and hum with an invisible energy, which came feeding off them all. Putting down the sampler, Aileen sighed.

She had done as much as she could for one day, and anyway, she was unable to concentrate any harder. Chasing the last few rays of daylight, Aileen felt wretched.

The nights were drawing in. What had been a hint of fall had become a winter's chill. Without warning, the bare boughs of the trees caressed the landscape, lonely in their emptiness.

All the talk in the castle was of her upcoming marriage. The servants were abuzz with curiosity to know more; no one had been this excited for ages.

It was just a shame that she wasn't.

Two days.

That is how long Scott stayed on in Duncan Castle without speaking to her before he left. And in that time, Aileen was just aching for him to knock on the door.

Two days. He had had two entire days to come and see her!

Disappointment sank into Aileen's heart. This was proof, if she needed it, that he really wasn't interested in her.

Burying her head in her knees, Aileen fought off a deep sob that was starting in her throat. She needed him. She had practically thrown herself at him, and once again, he had completely rejected her.

Worse still, the more that Aileen thought about it, the more clear it had become that this was never actually about her. She cast her mind back to that first time he had approached her at the race. Not because he cared. How could he when she was dressed as a boy! But because he thought he could make some coin out of a wager.

That was all it was about. And while she was grateful to Scott for saving her life, he had taken every advantage possible over it.

Setting the sampler aside, Aileen gazed mournfully outside. But her eyes were not really seeing. Instead, they were picturing the look on Laird McLeod's face when Scott brought her to him. They had practically lit up when he realized he had bagged himself a bride for his son. Then, Scott had taken her riding again. At the time, she had thought it was about her and him. But it wasn't. It was about the bets. It was always about the bets.

And he had done well out of her.

There was nothing else to say. Picking herself off, Aileen tried really hard not to despair. He had made his choice. He had left her.

That was all there was to say about it.

"Miss, he's here!"

Mary's voice rose excitedly at the sight of the procession. From across the room, Aileen leaped up and jumped to the window. Sure enough, a dark horse was trotting in through the gates of the castle.

Aileen hid and looked, getting her first glimpse of the laird's son.

"Och, he's bonnie!" murmured Aileen at the sight of a tall, dark, dashing man dismounting from one of the horses. The man, in full McLeod plaid, walked around to the side of another horse and appeared to confer with the rider.

Aileen's eyes roamed appreciatively all around the dark strangers while she investigated every inch of the procession. Behind him was another man, possibly the servant. He appeared stooped and slightly fey, with greasy blond hair and the beginnings of a bald patch on his temple.

"Um, aye," said Mary, as if unsure. The pair of them hid behind the shutters as they peered through the tiny gap in the window.

Somewhere in the background, Fiona's voice could be heard marshaling the children and staff to the front of the castle.

Her cheery voice called out behind the door, "Woo! Aileen, he's here. Shake yer bones!"

The sound of her voice immediately rankled Aileen, and she scoffed.