Page 11 of Highlander’s Devious Ally

“So she spent the night with Lyall Stevenson," he growled. “I wonder what happened in that castle?”

“It could have been nothing...” Fergus began, but Jock’s glare was enough to silence him.

“Please do not insult my intelligence, Fergus," he warned. “Ailith is a beautiful woman, and Lyall, though I hate to admit it, is a very handsome man. Yes, there might have been nothing, but look at them. They look as if they were made for each other, but I am about to show them both they are not.”

“How, M'Laird?” Fergus looked puzzled.

“By telling Mistress Ailith something she has needed to know for a long, long time," he replied grimly. He turned his head as the door opened and in came Findlay, grinning foolishly as usual.

“M'Laird, this lady wis askin’ for ye at the gate," he said, looking for acceptance like a dog begging for treats. He opened the door a little wider to admit a dark, attractive woman in her twenties. She had a gorgeously curved figure which she was showing off to good advantage in a low-cut scarlet dress, which revealed a great deal of her generous white breasts.

She was wearing crimson lip rouge and carried herself with a coquettishness that showed exactly what her profession was. Jock had used her services many times and was about to do so again. He still had an hour or so before Ailith arrived.

“Finn! How often have I told you to knock before you come in?” Jock asked thunderously. He was more angry than usual because he knew that Findlay had probably heard something which he should not have, and so had Molly, the whore who had followed him in. Finn would not betray him on purpose, but he could blab something in his clumsy way. He would have to bribe the whore too, and that would cost him a pretty penny.

Finn slunk out of the room.

The woman sidled up to him, her deep blue eyes twinkling darkly. “Well, Jock, is yer betrothed givin’ ye trouble?" her voice was innocent but the look in her eyes was not.

Jock said nothing, but he gave her a strange, lascivious smile as they left the room. “We will discuss it upstairs," he replied. “Do you have your costume?”

“Aye,” she replied with a wink.

Ailith had worn a modest brown woolen dress and shawl for dinner that night, without any jewelry or ornament. She should have looked dowdy, but her flowing hair and striking eyes meant she would look lovely even if she had been wearing a sack.

“Ailith!” Jock came up to her and wrapped his arms around her then gave her a soft affectionate kiss. She had always liked his kisses, and still did, but since Lyall had come into her life, she knew that something was missing.

He put her away a little to look at her, shaking his head. “How can a lady who is dressed so simply look so gorgeous?”

“Jock," she laughed, flapping her hand at him. “I did not have time to curl my hair and lace myself into an elegant gown tonight. Anyway, it is just you and I who are here.”

“And why dress up for the man you are going to marry?” Jock laughed, but there was an edge to his voice. Ailith pretended she had not noticed.

They sat down and began to eat their cullen skink, a delicious fish soup, then pheasant pie with all the vegetables from the castle kitchen gardens with sweet fruit and cream to follow. They chatted about the village people, the church, the exploits of the King and other inconsequential matters, and Ailith felt reassured. Jock had his faults but so did everyone else, herself included. She began to relax.

“How is M'Laird Stevenson?” Jock asked suddenly.

Ailith startled, and her heart stopped beating for a moment before she recovered her composure. “I believe he is well," she replied, then tried rather clumsily to change the subject. “Jock, that was a wonderful meal. The cullen skink was a masterpiece." She smiled at him a little too brightly.

“A friend of a friend told me you saw him last night.” Jock’s voice was even, but dangerous, and his face was as hard as flint.

“Yes, Jock, I went to his castle to discuss something with him and his sister." Her voice was indignant. “It was too wet and cold to ride home so I stayed. Do I need your permission for that?”

“Alone?" he asked silkily. There was an unpleasantly suspicious look on his face.

Ailith’s mouth fell open in astonishment and disgust before she lashed out at him with an open palm across the cheek. Instinctively, he covered the spot where she had slapped him with his hand. He felt like putting both his hands around her neck and squeezing, but he restrained himself with great effort.

“Did you lie with him, Ailie?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

She stood up, knocking her chair over. “Of course not!” she roared. “How dare you? What kind of woman do you think I am?”

“I thought that you were a decent, intelligent woman with whom I could bring up a family,” he answered. “But it seems I was wrong. Are you still a virgin, Ailith?”

She stared at him for a while, refusing to believe what she had just heard. At last she answered, but she needed all her willpower to keep herself from screaming at him again. “Yes Jock, I am,” she replied through gritted teeth. “But I am not giving my maidenhead to you. Our wedding is off.”

“I see,” Jock said, pouring a glass of wine for himself. “You may want to reconsider that, sweetheart.”

She frowned at him. “Why?”