Page 182 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Biting back a smirk, Ainslee nodded, murmuring a quick "thank ye."

She watched, as the man poured some of the dark colored wine from the nearby flagon. Ainslee watched, on edge. She had been hoping for some of the amber firewater, served in the center of the table, in a wee pitcher. But now the man had plunked a cup of wine unceremoniously at her.

He practically poured it down her neck. But never mind, because the waitresses had been around with dishes.

She was about to get back to the more important business of eating -her pottage had just appeared in front of her - when a familiar voice made her freeze.

"Tis a wee whiskey an' water, for the lady," announced the voice, pleasantly.

When Ainslee looked about, it was to see Malcolm, smiling airily at her, as if they had never parted. Her heart gave a start.

Nodding, the serving lass poured her a dram, and then went, leaving Malcolm edging closer to her, on the wooden bench.

"Nae fash, tis on me," he said, with a big grin. Marisse eyed him interestedly, but Ainslee refused to look.

Dropping her head, she pretended to concentrate on her meal - but the truth was she could barely summon an appetite for the watery pottage. Taking a hunk of dried bread, she dunked it in the tepid soup. Marisse glanced at her curiously.

"Allow me to introduce mysel'," said Malcolm, still grinning. His eyes invited Ainslee, but she did not meet them. Inside, she was a ball of fury.

How dare he come here! She had been right to not want to stay! Cursing Marisse bitterly, she glanced away, as Marisse and Malcolm spoke.

"I'm Malcolm," said Malcolm, without adding any more. Ainslee hated him fervently right then. "Pleased to meet ye, an' ye?"

"Marisse," said Marisse, her big blue eyes smiling, she elbowed Ainslee, who glared at the ground. She felt sick. Setting down her spoon, she thought desperately how to get out of this.

"So then, who's yer pal?" questioned Marisse. Ainslee's ears instantly sprang up. She had not been aware of a second person. Despite herself, she stole a quick glance at the man beside Malcolm. As she did, she could not help noticing, first, Malcolm's toned physique.

In the darkened alley she had not appreciated his toned muscles - in the last ten years away he had certainly become more rugged.

Seeing her looking, Malcolm gave her a little wink, and Ainslee looked away, but not without first noticing his friend.

"This here is oor captain, James," said Malcolm, slapping James on the shoulder. Marisse giggled, and Ainslee rolled her eyes. It was going to be that sort of night.

James beamed at Marisse. His dark eyes roving around her slender shape. Marisse sipped her dram, and patted down her skirts. Her eyes flashing, she searched James' face.

"A captain?" she said, in impressed tones. Ainslee wanted to disappear, but she could not help listening, despite herself. She wanted to know what Malcolm had been doing these last ten years.

"Aye," said Malcolm, before James spoke. "He's taken us everywhere, this lad!"

Fury bustled in Ainslee. So that was what he had been doing, seeing the world. Going anywhere, except staying here, with her!

Sipping down her drink, Ainslee bathed in rage. So now he was flirting with her friend? Digging her nails into the palms of her hands, Ainslee struggled to get a grip.

"Aye, just got back from the Caribbean," said James, casually, his thick brogue filling the room. Ainslee immediately looked about. She couldn't help it.

"The Caribbean?" she spluttered. Her drink almost spat out, Ainslee composed herself. The room was noisy, dinners crammed into small tables, and all around them was supping.

Even so, there was more than a bit of interest in the tones of captain James, from those around them.

"Really? Where's that?" asked Marisse, her eyes all roundening. Ainslee tutted below her breath. She did not know much about adventuring - or whatever it was that Malcolm would claim to have been doing. But she was deeply skeptical all the same.

"Och, tis a lang, lang way awa'," assured James, his dark eyes twinkling. Now Ainslee cast a cool eye over him. He too was rugged, but a little more heavily set than Malcolm - not fat exactly - but well fed. "Miles, in the Aethiopian Sea! An' ye should see the things we saw!"

Ainslee looked at him, in open disbelief. But she did not direct her remarks at James, instead, she stared straight into Malcolm, with a hearty sniff.

"Months an' months, aye?" she said, in disdain. "Well, the pair o' ye look verra well fed... ye didinae perchance have to eat the crew?"

There was a ripple of laughter, but not before Malcolm sent her a searching glance. Perhaps he could tell she questioned his friend's tall tales. So, casually, he reached down, coins clinking in his leather pocket.