Page 215 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

The sensation of his skin still tingled on her fingers. Softly, Malcolm kissed her, and moved away from the hearth.

"Nae," he said, kindly. "Tis nae right, I cannae just take yer innocence, nae like this..."

Sitting herself up, Ainslee looked put out. "Whit if I say ye can?" she asked.

She was about to tell him she was twenty-eight, and more than old enough, when he kissed her softly on the mouth.

"We wait," said Malcolm, pulling her up from the ground. Ainslee felt herself stirring. Her emotions were suddenly pumping through, hot and cold.

"Ye wait," said Ainslee, hotly. An angry gust had taken her. Now she felt shamed. "I've waited ten years for ye... but I ken it wasnae the same for ye!"

"Ainslee!" Malcolm protested, but Ainslee did not give him the option. She was on her feet, eyes blazing.

"Nae, ye nae waited for me, ye had yer fill, I heard ye wi' James!" Ainslee pouted. Malcolm could say nothing. He knew it was true. Ainslee's eyes flashed virtuously.

Now Ainslee was trembling. Her head was full, she could not take this anymore.

"I tell ye, Mal, when ye go to yer brother... ye better fight him well. I want ye to live...until then, I dinnae ha' anything to say to ye!"

With that, Ainslee turned on her heel, and went running, back to the box bed in the backroom. Her heart was bumping at record speed. But it was only when she reached her bed, she let herself loose.

Slamming her head down on the pillow, she sobbed hard. It felt like she did not stop sobbing until well after the birds rose for dawn.

CHAPTER 17

She rose late that day, sleep taking her only when the cockerel crowed. Blinking the sun back madly, Ainslee glanced around.

Panic!

The day had started. The familiar clangs of her father's anvil were sounding, as were the comings and goings in the smiddy barn. Scrambling from the box bed, Ainslee surveyed the mess.

In the hazy light, the smiddy backroom looked more unloved than previously imaginable. Pulling on her clothes, Ainslee sighed at the debris everywhere.

Pokers, irons, and hammers lay strewn everywhere. Even in the bed, there was a pile of rusty nails. No wonder she couldn't get comfortable!

Muttering under her breath, Ainslee began to put things right, whilst trying valiantly to put the events of the previous evening from her mind.

"Och, tis as if we live in the smiddy shop itself!" she chided, to nobody, picking up the umpteenth blackened tool, and tutting.

"Tis a whole lot better than a freezing deck!"

The unexpected voice made her turn her head around. There, in the jamb of the door, was James.

"Believe me hen, this wee smiddy is a paradise compared to life on the ocean waves...at least yer bed is nae wet!"

Ainslee grinned, politely, as she quickly gathered the shawls around her frame. She had not quite finished dressing, and been taken by surprise.

Seeing her dressing, James fell back. "Och," he said, blushing. "Excuse me!"

He began to go backwards, out into the adjoining smiddy shop. Idly, Ainslee wondered if Malcolm was still there.

"Nae," said Ainslee, waving at the captain. "Tis nae fash, come on in..."

James came in cagily, "Sorry, lass," he said, looking away. "Ah, um, tis nae fash, but we'refamished, an' wondered if ye've any oats, or stuff..."

Ainslee looked up. She was supposed to be bringing food. Chastened, she jumped about, busying herself with the pot in the hearth.

Hurrying, she brought it over to James. After he had wiped his hands, he sat down at the low table, and smiled.