Page 198 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

The wind rippled through her, through the both of them, but Ainslee was strangely untouched by the encroaching winter. All she could think of was the injustice of everything that had been done.

"Mal," said Ainslee, her pretty face stunned. "I shouldnae ha' believed it... That ye could betray us...Nae yer father...I... "

Ainslee stopped short of making an apology, but the emotion lapped out of control inside her.

Malcolm smiled at her, at last. "I couldnae. I couldnae do anything like that, especially if it meant taking ye away from me!" he sighed, then continued.

"I just need ye to ken, Ainslee, I nae left ye. Maybe I cannae expect ye to wait... but that ring I gave ye, meant something...to me, anyway...the wording, perhaps ye nae kent what it meant..."

"I kent," Ainslee gave a little start. She hadn't meant to admit to this. It was the last thing she had meant. Cross with herself, Ainslee gathered herself together. Taking her wrap against the encroaching wind, she finally looked at him hard.

"I kent what it meant," she said in a hard voice. "E'en if I didnae ken the words..."

Malcolm reached over, for a moment, and almost touched her. But his hands stopped short of reaching hers. The strange truce between them did not quite extend to touching, yet.

"I nae forgot," said Malcolm, staring at her hard. "An' I nae will, Ainslee. I will make ye believe that..."

Ainslee's mind went to the ring's inscription.

Mon coeur, avez sans départir.

Then she shook her head. She could not risk having him back. He had hurt her too bad.

CHAPTER 13

"Come, if we want to be back at the village in time for dark...," Ainslee beckoned to Malcolm, who seemed to have turned to stone on the back of his horse.

It was awkward between them, on that narrow crick of road; just him and her, now that the others had gone.

Anxiously, Ainslee looked around, shrugging in the cold air, hopeful for a sight of Marisse. But she was gone. Maybe, thought Ainslee, she had left them on purpose in order to talk.

But Malcolm was still there, waiting.

Ainslee turned toward him. "Ye do want to go home, dinnae ye?"

Malcolm stirred himself. A glance into the murky gray skies, he smiled. "Aye," he said, pulling the reins on his stallion. "I dinnae want anything more!"

Finally, he had reprised his own horse, leaving Ainslee to hers, and the little dappled mare mightily relieved.

Ainslee bit her tongue, and tried not to tell him he better be prepared. Suddenly, she didn't have the heart to. He looked so daftly happy she couldn't. But after ten years away, Ainslee knew only too well that things would not be as he had left them when Malcolm returned.

Instead, she smiled. "Best put yer clothes on, lad," with a little wink, at Malcolm's exposed flesh, being blasted by the arctic sidewinds to the road.

Malcolm shrugged, but threw his leine on, unphased by the cold winds. Ainslee marveled at his hardiness, almost as much as she did his muscular frame.

Ten years away had done much to improve his physique, and there had been nothing wrong with it to start with.

Trotting along, side by side, they traveled quietly. The air was fresh and wild, gusts from the east kept rocketing them, but somehow the snow which had fallen overnight did not repeat itself. But as they went, she sensed he was lost in clouds.

A silence opened out, getting bigger all the time. There were so many things; the places he had been, the lasses he had been with...

The longer they rode, the harder it got.

Her belief in him dangled in between them like a stray hope. She should be able to seize it, resume things between them. But first, she needed to face him. He had never meant to leave her, but what had happened after he did? What of the women he had met?

She needed to know more, even if it hurt her.

Looking down, and then ahead at the road, Ainslee set her eyes to the village.