Page 208 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

About to settle back down, Marisse looked up. "Ainslee? Ye alright?"

Ainslee just nodded, but held her head tight. Sensing her, Marisse came closer.

"Och, yer nae," she said, soothingly. Gently, she rested Ainslee's head against hers.

A bitter lump came into Ainslee's throat. She hated being made to feel like this. Brushing a stray tear away, she straightened. "Nae fash..."

Watching her in the shadow light, Marisse's eyes questioned.

"Ye still sweet on him?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but still Ainslee resisted.

"Nae," she said, unconvincingly. Marisse just smiled.

"Fannybaws," she said softly.

"I ken, I ken," admitted Ainslee, finally. "I will do as ye said... an' forget Malcolm Duncan..."

A silence, in which only her father's snores penetrated the air, then Marisse looked serious.

"I dinnae lass...," her voice trailed off. Ainslee instantly looked over.

"I dinnae ken, to begin wi', I wasnae sure. I thought yer man was gone, an' he had left ye... but now... what he said. Maybe tis true, an' he didnae mean to leave ye. Perchance he should have another chance...?"

Marisse's voice sounded uncertain, but with tiny hope. Ainslee's heart rushed with bitter hurt. It was the last thing she needed. If she needed anything at that moment, it was to be told to forget him.

But suddenly, Marisse was voicing hope. Ainslee's heart hardened.

"Nae," she said, blowing out the candle and settling down.

"It's nae use. I dinnae ken Malcolm Duncan anymore...The man I kent is gone forever!"

CHAPTER 15

"Fannybaws!"

Mister McDonald entered the room, his plaid flapping around his diminutive frame. In the smiddy barn, the two men looked around.

"Guid morning, to ye, sir," said Malcolm, courteously. He stood up as the tiny blacksmith stumbled into the room.

It was morning, and he and James were sitting, propped up on their makeshift cots. Ainslee and Marisse had come in, each carrying tranchers and jugs. Hearing her father's entry, Ainslee set down the wash bowl, and listened curiously.

Her father nodded a brief acknowledgement, and then continued speaking. All the while, attempting to re-tie the oversized plaid which hung around his waist. Watching him, Ainslee rolled her eyes.

"Tis fannybaws, young Master Duncan, if ye forgive me," said McDonald, his brown eyes fastening on Malcolm's tight. Malcolm looked perturbed.

"Ahm, um, whit?" he was forced to ask. He and James had been sitting discussing matters, when Ainslee's father had come crashing through the door, delivering his baffling verdict.

Mister McDonald smiled at Malcolm patiently. "My apologies, sir. I couldnae help overhearing whit ye an' the laddie said..."

Malcolm looked blank, so Mister McDonald elaborated. "Aboot the fight, between yer father an' yer brother..."

"Half-brother," said Malcolm, troubled. He rubbed his stubbly chin, despondently. It didn't matter to anyone but him, but times like this it rankled. "He was ma's stepson, by her previous marriage. In truth, he isnae really ma brother at all..."

His voice trailed off. At times like this, it helped to remember that Bruce was his brother, in name only. "But father brought him up as his own... an' see how he repaid him?"

Softly, he drifted off. When Malcolm came back to, it was to four pairs of eyes, all trained on him. This brought him up fast. "Ah, I mean, tis nae fash, sir, please continue wi' yer point..."