Page 167 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Her heart only wanted one thing.

And it was what it could not have.

"At this rate, I'll be the only one there, because ye'll be an auld maid!" Marisse told her. She swished her hair in annoyance. Randomly, looking around the shop, her fingers alighted on a golden ring.

"So then, ye've taken it off, at long last... I suppose that's a good sign..."

Marisse picked up the simple gold ring, with interest. Tilting it sideways, she glanced at the inscription on the inside; then screwing her face up she pouted.

"Monker sand?" she pronounced, badly.

"It's French," said Ainslee, tutting. "Mon coeur, avez sans départir," she said. "It means... um... something..."

Ainslee felt her cheeks redden. She was not quite sure what it meant, but just that it was important and it mattered. Fastening the ring back onto her left hand, she studiously ignored Marisse's gaze.

"Och, yer nae still wearing it," tutted Marisse. Ainslee gave her a sly look.

"Why nae? Tis still gold, as good as any other," she said, but with a trace of a blush.

"Because, sweeting, yer man left ye high an' dry, an' it is time ye moved on," said Marisse, not pulling any punches.

Ainslee fiddled with the ring, uncomfortably. Her brow prickled with sweat, which was not all down to the heat coming from the fire in the shop.

"Och, nae fash, will ye," she said, irritably. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, Ainslee continued her chiseling. But the light was fading, and the candlelight in the shop would never be sufficient for the intricacy of the work she was doing.

Putting the sword down with a clatter, Ainslee's face drew into a frown.

"Och, tis nae use, I cannae see nae mair," she said, getting up. "The heavy cloud makes it impossible!" Inside, her thoughts swirled. Turning to Marisse, she let off steam.

"We'll nae finish this!" she huffed. Marisse put her arm around her. "There should be hours o' daylight, but this rain means I cannae see it well enough for his Lairdship!"

"Ye ken hoo lang it takes to make a sword like this? An' hoo many men are needed? An' we only have the two o' us, plus Bobbie who can do the hilt?"

Ainslee looked despairingly at Marisse, who soothed her.

"I dinnae ken, but I can probably guess," she said, smoothing down Ainslee's rebellious locks. Right then Ainslee looked wild. Fixing her with a grin, Marisse reached for a flask, tucked into her basket. Without a word, she set about pouring into the goblets strewn about in the blacksmith shop.

"Ye need a dram, hen...," she opined. Ainslee looked skeptical, but still took the drink.

One and a half minutes later, the world was imbued in an acceptable haze. Ainslee felt a little embarrassed. "Och, nae mind me," she said, by way of apology to Marisse.

Blushing deeply, she smiled at her friend. "Listen to me, blathering on, I didnae e'en ask ye hoo ye were, or what ye were doing..."

Leaning back against the work table, Marisse took a dram, as both of them snuck a glance at Ainslee's father, asleep with his mouth wide open, across the room.

"Ye gonnae wake him?" asked Marisse, as it looked like Ainslee was preparing to leave the shop. Ainslee just laughed.

"I dinnae think wild horses could wake him!" snorted Ainslee. "Ye dinnae ken my father. In fact, did I tell ye the time he did fall off o' his horse, asleep?"

Clutching her face, Marisse laughed. "He didnae," she said, as Ainslee just nodded.

"He did," she said, gaily. Then she looked serious. "Anyhoo, what brings ye here?"

Marisse looked at her straight. "Ye do, I am taking ye into toon, so get yer warm wrap on...,"

Ainslee shot her a look. "I need to buy some herbs, for potions... an' Kilamory is the only place I can get them... besides, it'll give us chance to have a chinwag....Och, one last thing. Take that ring off, lest any lad mistakes it for a wedding band!"

Ainslee smiled, ruefully. Slowly, she removed the ring, setting it down in a small pot on the ledge near her. Resigned, she fetched her cape, and arm in arm, her and Marisse walked off together.