Page 191 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Like they all did, in the Duncan clan since Bruce became laird.

"So allow us to escort ye back to yer clan," said James, a persistent grin on his face. Ainslee looked at Marisse. She nodded.

"We would be pleased to have yer escort, sir," said Marisse, her eyes leveling with James. Ainslee watched them together, wondering.

It seemed like Marisse had wanted him to back off, but something was sparkling.

"Tis oor pleasure, mistress," said James, with a side glance to Malcolm.

Ainslee felt her resolve shrinking. She tried her hardest not to meet Malcom's gaze. Nodding quickly, she signaled to Marisse.

"Alright then," she said, haltingly. Her head held stiffly. "We will ride together, but that is all...!"

And with that, she tapped her pony and was off.

CHAPTER 11

"Ainslee, so then, lass, um, how fare ye?"

Silence.

Beside him on the horse, Ainslee blanked him completely. It was an impressive 360 degree blanking. Even when Malcolm's stallion threw a wobbly, nearly jettisoning him from his saddle she didn't look.

Marisse did though. With a yelp she cried.

"Jings! Whit was that?"

But Malcolm wasn't looking. He was still fixated on her, her perfect face straight forward, as if it was cut from stone. Finally, when he had clambered back aboard his horse, he burst out laughing.

That did it. Against her better judgment, Ainslee turned to him.

"Whit's so funny?" she demanded, her pure skin twisted into a frown. Malcolm could not help smiling at her.

"Ye are, lass, that is quite some pout," he said, taking the reins again on his frisky stallion. Just his luck to have been set up with a horse that didn't believe in being ridden!

Ainslee harrumphed, a bit like his horse, and flicked her hair. Malcolm broadened his grin.

"See, there ye go again, ah, well, ye always were good at giving the evil eye...!"

Malcolm surveyed the bleak landscape as they went. It was a dreich day, damp, gray and altogether unpleasant. The galloping rain, which so far had left off, risked making a comeback. Right then, he didn't care.

Everything he had dreamed for the last ten years had culminated. He was going home, with Ainslee by his side. For a second, everything was alright.

But there was one problem; she was not talking to him.

Facing her again, Ainslee swished her head away, leaving Malcolm back to square one. He had to find some way of cracking the conversation open - but how?

As they trotted, he could not help watching her flawless form. The last ten years had been kind to her; barely a line anywhere, and her hair was every bit as silken as he recalled. Gazing at her smooth face, his eyes could not help wandering down to her hands. As she gathered the reins to her horse, he examined them closely. Was she wearing a ring?

Some time passed before he could ascertain she was not. With a bump, he remembered the love ring he had given to her, as a token of their engagement. It was nowhere to be seen.

Bitterly, he wondered what had happened to it, and whether she was engaged - or even married - to anyone else. Opening his mouth, Malcolm tried to put together the words in his head. But he was struggling to speak.

A daunting silence opened up. The longer it went on, the harder it was to pierce. If he was not careful, Malcolm would never speak to her.

Coughing, he went in for the kill.

"So, then, Ainslee, whit've ye been doing wi' yersel' for the last ten years?"