Page 211 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Her gaze was still fastened upon him, glowing.

"I will go, I will find things, I will nae let ye doon," said Ainslee, before turning to leave. Malcolm smiled.

Looking down, he noticed the iron nut in his hand was in fact a ring. Astonished, he held it closer.

Not just any ring.

"Mon coeur avez sans départir,"

Malcolm read the inscription, it was the posy ring he had bought for Ainslee, all those years ago! He gave a gasp. "Ainslee?"

But she had gone.

CHAPTER 16

"Ainslee!"

Malcolm stood dead, as a white silhouette of Ainslee floated into the room. It was dark.

Moonlight drenched the room, blanching out the edges of her shape.

Malcolm blinked. In the closed up walls of the smiddy shop, he was the only one awake. Ainslee's father had gone to bed some time ago, and Marisse had long departed for home.

Only Captain James' snoring could be heard, filling the room like a thick siren.

"Ainslee?"

It was more of a question, because he could not see her face. She was just a blur in the half-light, as Malcolm squinted through the crack in the door.

A sharp blast of winter burst in, dancing rings around the smiddy, and giving escape to the smoldering embers in the fire. Slowly, the door opened, revealing Ainslee's face. Malcolm's heart lifted.

"Och, so tis ye!" he said, relieved. Ainslee entered the room, removing her hood. Malcolm watched, transfixed, as her hair fell to her waist. It was wet. It had been raining.

Or possibly snowing. It was hard to tell from the confines of the smiddy. Looking up, Ainslee smiled, absently.

"O' course tis me. Who else did ye expect to see?"

She made her way into the smiddy, setting down her pocket bag. Glancing around swiftly, she lit a rush from the firelight, and carried it over.

"Where are they all?" she asked, her dark eyes glinting in the dark. Malcolm felt himself weaken. The scent of Ainslee's perfume wafted over him. He closed his eyes.

"Asleep," said Malcolm. Ainslee came to sit beside him. Now they sat together, side by side, in front of the sleepy firelight. A rush came over Malcolm.

"Braw," said Ainslee, drowsily. He could see the tiredness in her eyes. He felt it too. A sudden heavy aching encased him. He felt an overwhelming urge to hold her, just touch her. Her hand was just there...

Self-consciously, Malcolm flinched back, leaving Ainslee to look at him awkwardly.

"He wasnae there," she said, unexpectedly. This brought Malcolm up straight. Blinking, he questioned her.

"Who wasnae there?" he said. Sleep was calling him. It had been all night. But despite its call, he had resolved to wait for her. It had been hard. Who knew that sitting about could be so tiring?

Perhaps it was everything building up inside him - the anticipation, the traveling... He had gone through a lot to make it back to her. The last ten years flashed through him. It had been overwhelming, but suddenly, it did not matter. Now, she was there.

"Bruce," said Ainslee, smiling. Her dark eyes shone, as she turned her head to face him. "He wasnae home. So there's nae use in going to the keep now..."

This news washed over Malcolm. Then he remembered something. "Och, but ye shouldnae have traveled alone! Ye left wi' out telling - an' I was going to come too!"

"Nae," said Ainslee, her jawline tensing. "That was the whole point in me going to find oot more... we dinnae want word o' ye going to get to Bruce afore yer ready..."