Page 212 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"But Ainslee, tis dangerous for a lass on her own, ye shouldnae ha' traveled...," Malcolm said, beginning to chide her. But something in her eyes stopped him.

"I didnae... Bobbie from the shop came wi' us," said Ainslee, smoothing things over.

Reluctantly, Malcolm nodded. "Braw," he said, whilst inwardly wishing it had been him instead. Then, a stray, jealous moment descended. "Um, who?"

His thoughts must have shown. Laughing, Ainslee said, "Naeone, och, tis just the hired hand, nae mair than a lad!"

Malcolm blushed. "Och," he said, before turning to Ainslee. She was radiating sensuality. It was hard being near her. Gingerly, Malcolm grinned. "Well, that's braw then!"

Bringing her shawl around her tighter, Ainslee drew up towards him a little closer. "Tis jeelit oot!"

"Here, lass," Malcolm handed her another blanket. Ainslee took it, snuggling softly. Malcolm's heart panged.

Idly, she scrunched her curly hair. It was wringing. For the first time, Malcolm noticed she was soaking.

"Lass, yer drookit!" He couldn't help it. His hand went to her hair, touching it.

Smiling ruefully, Ainslee drew closer. She was right beside him now. Malcolm felt his heart beat.

"Aye, aye I am. Tis auld wives and pike staves oot there! An' all for nothing..."

Ainslee smiled sweetly before him. Malcolm felt his stomach prickle.

"Naething," he said, pouring her a dram. Ainslee took it, without speaking, and sipped deep from the cup, before sighing.

"Naething?" said Malcolm. He longed to touch her. It was burning him. Instead, he found her another blanket, and pressed it in against her clothes.

"Gramercy," she said, taking the blanket. "But really, I should get oot o' these wet things..."

Ainslee arched an eye towards him, leading Malcolm to almost total apoplexy.

"I, um, I can look awa'," said Malcolm uncomfortably. Ainslee just laughed. "So, um why was it for naething?" he asked, looking down.

"Didnae deliver it," said Ainslee, laying something down. A clinking of metal sounded against the hard smiddy shop floor. Malcolm could not see it, but looked around.

"Whit?" he said, glancing. Ainslee smirked, out of nowhere, she placed something cold across him. "Och!"

"Lookout!" Ainslee grinned, brandishing a large sword at his face. "I'll have yer heid!"

Malcolm blinked. Lowering the sword, Ainslee brought it closer, before handing it to him. Taking the sword, Malcolm examined it.

Holding it to the fire, he ran his finger along the jeweled hilt. "A bonny piece o' kit," he said, admiringly. Although it was hard to see, Malcolm could feel its quality. "Ye've done a braw job..."

Ainslee's eyes twinkled. "I ken," she said. "Too good for yer brother... I was glad he wasnae there. This sword should be yers..."

Malcolm felt his senses prickle. With no warning, he was emotional. The dark gemstones glinted in the poor light, as he lifted it to his shoulder.

"I cannae," he said, simply. He handed it back to Ainslee, who shook her head.

"Ye can," she said. "Ye can an' ye will, because I tell ye, Malcolm, ye had better win in this fight..."

Ainslee's voice was trembling, to Malcolm's astonishment, she looked on the verge of tears. Emotional himself, he rushed to comfort her.

"Lass," he said, bringing his arm around her.

This.

For so long, he had longed to comfort her. Now he finally could. Softly, she leaned into his arms, the perfume in her hair teasing him as they embraced.