Ailsa had no idea what her uncle said to Ewan, but he had clearly said something, because for the next few days he was unusually attentive to Kirstin, while pointedly ignoring Ailsa. She was relieved, but still she did not trust him and made sure she was never alone with him.
A week of rain and wind had lashed Contullach, confining everyone to the castle, but at last the storms abated and the sky cleared, promising a few days of dry weather. Ailsa decided to take her harp to the loch, knowing it might be her last opportunity before winter took its grip of the land, so when she heard Fingal making plans with Ewan to ride out the following day, she made up her mind.
She rose early and asked Simple Rab to carry her clàrsach out to the stables.
‘D’ye want me to come with you, mistress?’ he asked as he helped her secure the harp’s oilskin case on to the pony.
Ailsa preferred to be alone and, since Ewan would be safely out of the way, she decided she could manage without the boy’s escort.
‘Thank you, Rab, but I think not.’ She saw his shoulders slump with disappointment and patted his shoulder. ‘You will be needed to help in the fields while the fine weather holds,’ she told him. ‘They cannot do it without you, Rab. You know Mrs Barr depends on you to make sure the vegetables are harvested and stored correctly.’
His round, kindly face lit up with pleasure at her praise and he went off back to the house, a definite swagger in his stride.
Smiling, Ailsa spent a few moments checking the pony’s halter and testing the straps that held the harp in place. She was about to lead the pony from the stable when she heard Ewan’s voice. She froze, but her panic subsided when she realised he was not entering the stable. The sound of more than one voice was coming in through a narrow slit in the stone wall at the back of the building.
She exhaled with relief. Ewan was talking with his cronies and would not trouble her. He would not even see her leave, as she would be going in the opposite direction. She was about to lead the pony out of the stable when she heard a name that caused her to stop. Instead of leaving, she moved quietly towards the small opening, straining her ears to hear what was being said.
She recognised a voice. It was Donal, a loutish, shambling dolt who was often seen in Ewan’s company.
‘When do you plan to lift them?’
‘It must be soon. ’Tis a pity it cannot be tonight.’ She winced as Ewan cursed. ‘Fingal wants me to go with him to visit our kinsman and we’ll not be back until the morning. But if we wait much longer there will be no moonlight to aid us. No, if this weather holds, then we must do it tomorrow night, or the next.’
‘But why Ardvarrick’s own fold?’ objected another guttural voice. ‘It would be easier to take the cattle from one of his tenants, nearer our own lands.’
‘That’s where Rathmore will be expecting trouble. If he still has men on watch, that is where he will put them. What he won’t anticipate is a raid on his own beasts.’
Ailsa pressed one hand to her mouth. She had not been mistaken. They were talking about Ardvarrick.
‘And it will hurt him more,’ Ewan went on, his voice dripping with scorn. ‘A raid so far inside his lands will show how unfit he is to be Laird. But we go armed and ready for trouble, you understand? Now, I must get back, before Fingal comes looking for me. Remember, he must know nothing of this...’
The voices were fading. She risked peeping out through the opening and saw Ewan and his cronies moving away. She should tell her uncle, but Ewan would only deny it and it would once again be her word against her cousin’s. He might also persuade his friends to continue with the raid. Ailsa went back to the pony and stood for a moment, thoughtfully rubbing its nose and trying to decide the best way to foil Ewan’s plans. Finally, she untied the reins and led the little animal out into the yard.
Logan handed his reins to Tamhas.
‘Take the horses to the stables, if you please. Then join me in my study. We’ll go over the accounts before dinner.’
He stood for a moment, drawing off his gloves and watching his cousin ride away. It had been a good day and surprisingly enjoyable, riding over his land, checking the provisions for the winter. He and Tamhas had also talked to the tenants, explaining how the agreement with Contullach should make them more secure, but reassuring them that he would not be withdrawing his patrols of the outlying pastures and homesteads until he was confident there would be no more raids upon the livestock.
He turned and walked towards the house. The late afternoon sun had turned the pale lime-harled walls pink, while the windows gleamed like gold. The beauty of it caught him unawares and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. He had been back at Ardvarrick for a month and he was beginning to settle into his new role as Laird. He grinned, remembering how reluctant he had been to return, but now he was looking forward to his first winter here for ten years.
Logan had enjoyed his travels on the Continent, but looking back he could see that his life in England had settled into a comfortable but aimless pattern. The endless round of balls, card parties and visits to the theatre had been merely an elegant way to pass the days, to keep at bay the ennui of an indolent and indulged lifestyle. Ardvarrick was very different. Every day brought a new challenge. He was responsible for the lives not only of his household, but his tenants. He ran up the shallow steps and into the house. The thought of such responsibility was sobering, but he relished it.
‘So, we are agreed.’ Logan tapped the map with his finger. ‘We’ll drain the southern slopes and plant more barley, and we can build the new barn here.’
‘Aye, that will work.’ Tamhas nodded. ‘And are you wanting me to draw up plans for a new jetty in the loch?’
‘I think so. The old one was perfectly adequate in my father’s day, but it is too small to handle extra trade. We have timber from our own forests we can cut down for it.’ He straightened. ‘A good day’s work, Cousin. Come into the drawing room and we’ll take a glass of wine before we eat. I vow I am so hungry now. I hope Norry has a good dinner for us.’
Tamhas laughed ‘Have you ever known her not? I—’
A knock on the door interrupted him.
‘There’s a young person asking for you, master.’ The manservant looked disapproving. ‘A female.’
‘Is there indeed?’ Logan raised his brows. ‘What sort of female, William? A lady? Is she young, old?’
The manservant frowned. ‘She is so wrapped up that I cannot tell you, master. And she’ll not give me her name. From her voice I’d say she’s a gentlewoman.’
‘A mystery, then.’ Logan glanced at Tamhas. ‘We are going into the drawing room, William. You may show her in there.’
Logan had given orders that a fire was to be kindled of an evening and the room was warm and welcoming when William showed in their mysterious visitor. She was shrouded in a voluminous striped plaid in shades of purple and green and it was not until she lifted her head and the evening sunlight fell on her face that Logan recognised her. He concealed his surprise and dismissed the manservant before turning to greet her.
‘Mistress McInnis. Set a chair for the lady, Tamhas, by the fire, if you please.’
She nodded and said softly, ‘Thank you.’
Ailsa pushed the folds of plaid from her head and stood, irresolute. All her attention had been on getting to Ardvarrick as quickly as possible, urging the little pony to an unaccustomed canter for much of the way. Now that she was here, she felt dazed and needed time to collect her thoughts.
Logan Rathmore was holding out his hand to her. ‘Will you not remove your arisaid, mistress? You will be more comfortable without it.’
Silently she unfastened the brooch and slipped off the plaid, handing it to Logan, who placed it carefully over the back of her chair.
‘There. Now sit down and warm yourself.’ As she did so, he took a glass of wine from Tamhas and placed it on a little table at her elbow. ‘Drink this, when you are ready.’
She ignored the wine and gripped his arm, saying urgently, ‘I came to warn you. About Ewan Cowie. He is planning mischief!’
Logan frowned at the dainty fingers clutching his sleeve. ‘Tonight?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Tomorrow, possibly the following night.’
She was very pale, there were dark smudges beneath her eyes and Logan’s first instinct was to reassure her. He smiled and covered her hand with his own.
‘Take your time and tell us everything.’ She was still clutching him tightly and he said gently, ‘Mistress McInnis, you are safe here, I promise you. Trust me.’
His calm tone had the desired effect. Ailsa released her grip on his sleeve and folded her hands together in her lap. He waited quietly while she composed herself. Then, haltingly, she told him all she had overheard from the stable. When she had finished, her anxious violet eyes moved from Logan to Tamhas and back again.
She said, ‘He wants you to think my uncle is not to be trusted.’
‘You have taken a great risk, coming here. Why did you not send a note, or go to Fingal with this?’ Logan asked her.
‘There are so few people at Contullach I could trust with such a task and certainly no one who would not be missed. As for my uncle—’ a faint crease furrowed her brow ‘—I am not sure he would believe me. Ewan would deny it, or laugh it off as a prank, but it is not, I know he means you harm!’ Her hands twisted together in her lap. ‘He is against any agreement between you and my uncle.’
‘I had already gained that impression,’ replied Logan.
She picked up her wine and sipped at it, her hands clasped about the glass as if she did not trust herself to hold it with just one.
‘The lifting of cattle is a very old practice,’ she murmured. ‘I am aware of that and I know it has been going on between clans for generations. My uncle is not entirely innocent and, although he no longer goes out himself, I think he has been turning a blind eye to Ewan’s thieving.’ She drew a breath. ‘I also believe my cousin has been taking some of the beasts for himself, picking out the strongest and healthiest and moving them to his own lands.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Often, when I am playing in the hall, people say things as they pass. They can be...indiscreet.’ Her shoulders lifted a fraction. ‘No one pays any heed to a harper.’
‘And you think Cowie is playing a double game,’ said Logan. ‘You think he is lifting my cattle on your uncle’s orders, but keeping some for himself.’
‘I do.’ Her frown deepened. ‘But not only from Ardvarrick lands, from my uncle’s tenants, too. There have been many reports of cattle going missing.’
Logan’s lip curled. ‘And, of course, it is easiest to blame the Rathmores!’
‘Who would suspect Ewan of thieving from his own kin?’ She turned her face up to him, her eyes dark and troubled. ‘I have no proof of it, only snatches of conversation. My uncle would want a great deal more from me before he could be made to believe ill of Ewan and his friends.’
‘I, on the other hand, have no difficulty in believing ill of them.’ Logan smiled grimly. ‘I had already decided I would not relax my vigilance just yet, even though the most valuable beasts have already gone to market.’
‘But Ewan knows you will be guarding the farms bordering Contullach land. I believe he means to attack your own cattle, the ones you keep closer to this house.’
‘The devil he does!’ exclaimed Logan. She watched him exchange a glance with his cousin, ‘Fortunately, that is easily remedied. Thank you for warning us of the danger.’
Ailsa acknowledged his thanks with a nod. Her business here was done. She suddenly felt very tired and not a little dispirited. She put down her glass and pushed herself to her feet.
‘I should go.’
‘Will you not dine with us?’ Logan glanced towards the window. ‘It will be dark in an hour. You had best wait and ride back when the moon has risen.’
The thought of a hot meal was very tempting and Ailsa hesitated. The Laird decided it for her. He took her silence for acceptance and nodded.
‘Good. Tamhas, go and ask Norry to have a third place set at table, if you will, and I will pour Mistress McInnis another glass of wine.’
Tamhas went out and Logan turned back to Ailsa.
‘Will you not sit down again, mistress?’ He watched her sink down again, her whole demeanour suggesting fatigue. ‘You have gone to a great deal of trouble to warn me. One might ask why.’
One small, white hand fluttered. ‘I had to do something. I do not want Ewan breaking the peace before it is even begun. He speaks for only a few of my uncle’s people, but he could ruin it for everyone.’
‘Which I think is his intention,’ muttered Logan, drily. ‘Who knows of your coming here?’
‘No one. I left word that I was going to Loch nan Clàrsairean to practise. I left the clàrsach under bushes there so that I could use the pony to ride to Ardvarrick.’
He glanced again towards the window. ‘It will be very late when you return.’
‘I often practise at the loch until the sun is setting. If anyone should notice my absence, I will say I forgot the time.’
‘But surely you will be missed.’
‘Oh, no. Fingal is away from home tonight and will not require his harper. No one else at Contullach will miss me.’ The bleak note in her voice smote him. Did no one value her, save for her musical ability?
He said, ‘I will ride back with you.’
‘Oh, no! I pray you will not, sir. It is quite unnecessary. I can find my way.’
‘Perhaps you can, but I will not allow you to return unaccompanied and in the dark.’ His tone was firm to show he would brook no argument. She glared at him, a stubborn set to her mouth that made his own lips twitch. ‘Do not look so mutinous, mistress, I am doing this for my own sake as much as yours. If any harm should befall you on the way back to Contullach, the blame would surely be laid at my door.’
He waited, observing her inward struggle, and after a few moments she capitulated with a murmur of thanks.
‘Good.’ He refilled her wineglass and handed it back to her. ‘I shall put you on one of my own horses, too. Your pony will travel faster without you on its back.’
‘That is very true. The poor beast is unaccustomed to moving at more than an ambling walk and I pushed him most shamefully to get here.’
She gave him a wan smile, trying to make light of the situation, and his admiration for her grew. The ride here must have been difficult enough, but he could only imagine how long it would take her to get back on the little pony.
Tamhas returned and Logan thought his young guest might feel awkward to be in the company with two men, both relative strangers. He did his best to put her at her ease, but it was when Tamhas joined in, mentioning the recent ceilidh and mutual acquaintances that she truly began to relax. Logan was content to sit back and listen as she chattered away, talking of people and events he did not know or barely remembered from his youth. For the first time he felt a slight pang of regret that he had stayed away so long.
Ailsa sipped at her wine and felt her anxiety lessening. She had arrived at Ardvarrick with only one thought, to warn the Laird, but once inside the house she had become all too aware that it was a much finer building than her uncle’s stark castle. Polished wainscoting and oil paintings covered the walls of the entrance hall and the panelled doors were decorated with gleaming brass handles.
She had been shown into the drawing room, where there was more gleaming woodwork and the wide sash windows made the most of the remaining light. She had noted, too, that the room was filled with the most elegant furniture, including the comfortable satin-covered chair where she was now resting. At first such grandeur had threatened to overwhelm her, but the warm fire, the wine and the kind attentions of her companions combined to soothe her nerves and, although she knew she must return to Contullach Castle at some point, she was not sorry to put off the moment of leaving.
When a servant came in to announce that dinner was ready, the Laird rose and held out his arm to her.
As if I was a fine lady, she thought, feeling a warm blush spreading up through her body.
However, even though she had not been reared in such a grand house as this, Ailsa’s upbringing had not been totally lacking. She knew what was required of a lady. She rose and placed her fingers lightly on the proffered sleeve, marvelling at the softness of the wool beneath her fingers, but even more aware of the strong arm beneath the cloth. She felt a strange mixture of comfort and excitement when she was with this man. He had asked her to trust him and she did. She knew in her very bones that Logan Rathmore would look after her.
Ailsa had thought the drawing room sumptuous, but the dining room made her stop and catch her breath. The curtains had been pulled across the windows, shutting out the night, and the room glowed with golden candlelight. A long table was covered with such an array of silver that the snowy white cloth was almost obscured. There were no benches around the table, only a set of elegant walnut chairs with padded seats and carved legs. Places had been set at the foot and head of the table, with a third place on one side.
Beside her, she heard Logan give a soft laugh. ‘My housekeeper appears to think we need to impress you, Mistress McInnis. You should be honoured, madam, I doubt we could do better if the King himself were to dine with us! However, I would rather not stand upon such ceremony and, if you do not object, Tamhas and I will move the place settings to one end of the table, so we may eat and converse more easily.’
The change was soon accomplished and Ailsa was persuaded to sit at the head of the table, with Tamhas and Logan on either side. The servant’s startled look when he returned with the first dishes caused Ailsa to giggle. She stifled it, but not before her host noticed.
‘Just so, mistress.’ He cast her a look brimming with laughter. ‘However, I think we can all agree that this arrangement is much more comfortable.’
The last shreds of reserve fled. They set to work on the dinner with an ease that Ailsa would not have thought possible. Logan and Tamhas served her with the daintiest morsels from the silver dishes and would have refilled her wine glass regularly, if she had not decided it would be wise to drink sparingly.
Logan wanted the conversation to flow as easily as the wine and he was quite prepared to work at it, but it proved unnecessary. Ailsa had a lively mind. She asked him about his time in England and listened avidly as he described to her the London Season with its balls and entertainments. Tamhas was more interested in the sport to be had at his uncle’s establishment in Hampshire, which led to a discussion of hunting and fishing before they moved on to his plans for Ardvarrick and the preparations for the coming winter.
‘After what you have told us tonight, I shall put an extra guard on the fold,’ said Logan, helping himself to more of the venison. ‘There are a number of heifers that look promising for breeding next year, is that not right, Cousin?’
‘Aye, there are. And I’d not want to lose that bull calf your father bought, either,’ Tamhas answered. His face became more serious and he added, ‘It was his final purchase before he took to his bed for the last time.’
Ailsa felt the change in the air. She glanced at Logan and was pained by the bleak look in his dark eyes.
She said quietly, ‘I am very sorry for your loss, sir, and that you did not get here in time to speak with him before the end.’
‘Thank you. The end was quick and that is a mercy.’
He was resting one hand on the table, the fist clenched, and impulsively she reached over and clasped it.
‘I am very sorry, truly.’
His eyes fell to where her hand covered his, then he looked up, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.
‘I believe you are and I thank you.’
The air changed again. The sorrow was replaced by a tension and something sparked between them, an understanding of loneliness. An affinity that defied explanation, but sent shockwaves through Ailsa.
She quickly withdrew her hand and turned her attention to the food in front of her as she tried to make sense of what had occurred. Nothing tangible, no words, merely a look, a meeting of eyes, but it had set her heart thudding like a wild animal’s. Her whole body tingled. She had felt nothing like it before and it frightened her.
‘Will ye take more wine, Logan?’
Ailsa almost jumped as Tamhas asked his cousin the question. She stared down at her plate, conscious of the fire in her cheeks. How long had she and Logan been staring at one another? It felt like a lifetime, but surely it could only have been a few moments.
And yet.
Logan was holding his glass out for Tamhas to refill it, talking normally, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She kept her eyes lowered, listening to the two men. It occurred to Ailsa that Logan was consciously deflecting his cousin’s attention away from her, giving her time to compose herself. Fanciful nonsense, surely, she told herself, but when at last she felt sufficiently composed to look up again Logan met her eyes, such warm understanding in his own that her world was once again shaken to its core. No one had ever looked at her in that way. No one had ever made her feel so...so alive.
By the time they had finished their meal the moon was already rising over the hills.
‘It is time we were leaving,’ Logan told Ailsa. ‘Your homeward journey will be a long one in the dark. I will send word to the stables and have them look out for my mother’s saddle for you.’
She said quickly, ‘I would rather ride astride. I have never learned to ride side-saddle.’
She was looking a little self-conscious and he made no comment, merely sent William off with his instructions.
It was less than half an hour later they were ready to depart. Logan escorted Ailsa to the stables and threw her up into the saddle. It took all his willpower to ignore the neat ankle and shapely leg she displayed as she made herself comfortable on the mare. She had been uneasy, constrained, at times during the dinner and he had no wish to make it worse.
After what she had told him of Cowie’s plans, Logan arranged for four of his men to accompany them, but apart from a stag and several hinds, they encountered no one as they rode through the moonlit glens to Contullach. Even pushing the horses as fast as they dared, it took them over an hour to reach Contullach land, but Logan barely noticed the time. He enjoyed riding on such a night as this, with the landscape bathed in moonlight and no biting wind to chill the skin. His pleasure was enhanced by the woman riding beside him, straight-backed, at home in the saddle, even with her skirts tucked up in a most unladylike way! She was unusual, this harper of Contullach, and she intrigued him.
They followed the winding track through the woods for another mile until they reached the loch and Ailsa directed him to the spot where she had left her harp, hidden among bushes at the side of the road. She jumped down and ran to retrieve it while Logan fetched the pony and helped her to secure the precious instrument to its back. When she had checked the fastening, she bade him farewell.
‘I thank you for your help, sir, but you need not accompany me further. It is but a mile from here to the castle and I have the moon to light my way.’
‘I will walk with you until the house is in sight.’
‘Truly, there is no need.’
He ignored her protests. Ordering his men to wait for him, he took the pony’s reins and set off along the narrow track that ran between the pine forest and the loch. Ailsa fell into step beside him. They walked in silence, but he was all too aware of the woman at his side, so much so that his skin tingled. Occasionally her fresh, flowery scent came to him on the night air. Whether it was a concoction of the dried seeds and plants stored in her linen press that had scented her clothes or the herbs she used for washing her hair he had no idea, but the fragrance reminded him of a summer’s day.
It was so different from the strong, cloying perfumes favoured by the English beauties. He recalled they had been especially pungent in the suffocating heat of the theatre or a crowded ballroom. He put his mind to trying to recall the perfume Lady Mary had used, but strangely it eluded him. He could not concentrate on anything but the moonlight and the dainty figure beside him.
When Ailsa stumbled, he was quick to reach out and catch her. The contact brought a sudden heightening of his senses. The moon shone brighter, the scents of the night, of pine trees and damp earth, were more defined. And Ailsa leaning against him felt like the most natural thing in the world. He was aware of every beat of her heart, of the warmth of her skin, her ragged breathing.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining like stars in the dim light. Only by a supreme effort of will did he resist the temptation to kiss her, but he knew that if he did so he would not want to stop. She was an innocent. She had put herself under his protection and he must not abuse that trust just because the moonlight had made him lose his wits.
Steeling himself against the screaming protests of his body, he set her on her feet.
‘Careful now.’
Surprisingly, his voice sounded normal, even indifferent. However, he could not deny himself the pleasure of keeping hold of one dainty hand.
‘I will help you,’ he said, tucking it into the crook of his arm.
‘I am perfectly capable of walking unaided!’
Her independence was entrancing, but he dare not tell her that.
‘You have just demonstrated that to be untrue,’ he drawled. ‘This is no time for stubborn pride, madam.’
She gave a little huff of indignation, but did not pull away from him. They walked on a few yards and her silence was as eloquent as any diatribe. Logan, his momentary weakness now under control, found himself smiling in the darkness.
He said, ‘I know you would dearly like to tell me to go to the devil, madam.’
‘I should not be so uncivil,’ she retorted. ‘It is merely that I hardly know you.’
‘How so?’ he teased her. ‘Have you forgotten we danced together on the night of the ceilidh?’
Was it his imagination or did her hand tremble on his arm?
‘You are no gentleman to remind me of that, Logan Rathmore!’
‘Did you not enjoy it?’
‘Yes. No!’
He heard a hissing intake of breath and laughed, but at the same time his conscience smote him and he said penitently, ‘Forgive me, Ailsa McInnis. You are quite right, I should not have mentioned it.’
‘No, you should not.’ They continued on in silence. Then, ‘Let me tell you, sir, that I had quite forgotten all about that encounter.’
Ah, so now it was she who could not let the matter drop!
‘Had you, now?’ A grin tugged at his mouth, but he replied gravely, ‘Then I am mightily cast down, mistress, because I cannot forget it. It is etched in my memory for ever.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ he continued. ‘Because I enjoyed it, very much.’
‘You...you did?’
‘I did. In fact, I—’
She interrupted him. ‘I can see the castle before us.’
They stopped. In the distance he could see the black outline of Contullach Castle against the night sky. Faint lights twinkled from the houses without its walls, but two brighter torches flared on either side of the gates leading into the castle yard.
‘This is where we must part.’ She pulled her arm free and turned to face him. ‘I thank you for your care of me, Ardvarrick.’
He held out the reins to her. ‘And I must thank you for your warning, Ailsa McInnis. I shall be on my guard now for any raids on my cattle.’
She seemed to struggle with herself. Then she burst out, ‘You will take care? What I mean is, I would not have anyone hurt.’
‘I can make you no promises, mistress. If Ewan Cowie is bent on mischief, it may be impossible to avoid it.’
Even in the moonlight he could see she was distressed at his answer. He put the reins into her hands, giving her fingers a comforting squeeze before he stepped back.
‘I will do my best to avoid violence, Ailsa, you have my word on that.’
She hesitated, as though she might speak again, but instead she tugged on the pony’s rein and hurried off towards the castle.
Logan watched her until she had entered the gates and was lost to sight before he turned away. As he made his way back to his waiting men, he went over the last few moments of conversation they had shared. It was just as well she had stopped him when she did, for he had succumbed to the temptation to flirt with her and she was too innocent to know that. What might she have thought if he had told her how much he had enjoyed that dance in the moonlight? What hopes might it have raised within her breast? Hopes that he could not fulfil because he had left his heart in England.
To mislead her in such a way would not be the actions of an honourable man. It would be the actions of a scoundrel.