Page 5 of The Black Wolf's Captive

‘Lady Ailsa, I’ll be sure to seek you out later and claim my prize,’ he said. She was fuming and if looks could kill he would be a dead man. He smiled, released her hand and moved off into the crowd.

An hour passed before the greetings were all dispensed with and Ailsa scanned the room in the hope of staying as far away from Duncan Campbell as possible. Damn the man. His pledge to dance didn’t seem like an empty threat but she hoped to avoid it for as long as possible. Maybe the brute would get too drunk and forget, or even better, choose one of the other girls to torment.

They were certainly making eyes at him that was for certain, constantly sweeping past the group he was in so as to be noticed. Standing in the midst of the crowded hall, the Campbell men had become the centre of attention as they were all young, strapping and wild-looking. Ailsa had to grudgingly admit that Duncan was far and away the most handsome man in the room. Resplendent in his black plaid, shot through with red and blue, he seemed even taller indoors. The blaze of candlelight gave a rich sheen to his now tidied hair. Brushed back from his face it was the deep blue-black of crows’ wings. Black like his soul no doubt, though he seemed to have an easy friendliness with his companions. And so in spite of herself, she let her gaze fall on him again and again.

With the formalities over the guests relaxed into noisy conversations and with much flirting and lingering looks amongst the younger ones. Ailsa grinned when she spotted an old friend in the crowd and some of the tension from her awkward encounter with Duncan Campbell drained away. Hamish was old Chief McDougall’s youngest son and part of the power struggle currently steering the old man towards an early grave. Red haired, boisterous and with an abundance of charm, he was a frequent visitor to Cailleach.

They had grown up in close proximity. When his father had first brought him to Cailleach, a big, awkward, lump of a lad, she had felt a bit sorry for him and had taken him under her wing. He, in turn, had been drawn to her friendly manner and rebellious spirit. And so they had spent many hours exploring the woods and fields around the castle, bouncing around on their little ponies and scampering off to the loch with barbed spears to snag eel and pike from its depths. Ailsa had not seen him for some time and so she marvelled at how much he had changed, his once boyish face now hardened into manly good looks. Gossip named him as quite the seducer around the village.

‘Hamish it’s good to see you and grown so tall since last we met,’ she said, sweeping up to him.

‘That’s because I eat a prodigious amount Ailsa. My poor father cannot keep up with my appetites,’ he declared laughing.

Ailsa could not resist teasing him. ‘If gossip is to be believed it would seem that your appetites are not confined to food,’ she said saucily sweeping her eyes over several young ladies who were looking longingly in his direction.

‘Come now Ailsa, you must give me leave to enjoy myself. The ladies take delight in my company and it would be selfish of me to deny them their pleasures.’

‘As humble as ever I see.’

‘Are you jealous Ailsa?’ he retorted, a satisfied grin lighting up his face.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I have no interest in your indiscretions but you’d best hope your father remains ignorant of them.’

‘My father is ignorant of most things these days and has ever felt me beneath his notice.’ Ailsa was taken aback by the note of bitterness in his voice and it must have shown in her face for Hamish recovered himself quickly.

‘Why are you not married off to some scoundrel already Ailsa? You are far and away the most striking girl in the room. I should make it my mission to seduce you,’ he said, bumping his shoulder playfully against hers.

‘Hamish!’

‘As you would have me guilty of seducing every other woman here, then I must give you the same honour, else you may feel slighted by my overlooking you.’ He smirked at her and she knew he was teasing.

‘You talk such nonsense, Hamish. You should cease your prattle and continue your conquests hereabouts.’

‘Why should I, when I have the most alluring woman in the room all to myself? You can serve to make the others jealous and ignite their ardour for me.’

‘You are a terrible wastrel.’

‘Aye, and you are becoming more dangerously beautiful than ever.’

Ailsa ignored his compliment as the whine of the musicians tuning their instruments filled the room. The dancing was about to start and that awful man would be looking for her. Well, she had absolutely no intention of submitting to Duncan Campbell’s wishes and turned coquettishly to Hamish. ‘I do love to dance don’t you Hamish?’

‘You never have before, in fact, you’ve often professed your hatred of dancing.’

She could see her tormentor making his way through the crowd towards her as the musicians commenced a lively jig.

‘People can change can’t they?’

‘Well I for one am not about to miss the opportunity to dance with the bonniest girl in the room,’ said Hamish taking her by the hand and sweeping her out past Duncan and into the middle of the throng. Ailsa looked back with satisfaction at her opponent’s stony face, a smug smile playing on her lips. There, she had got the best of him.

Ailsa spent the rest of the evening studiously ignoring Duncan Campbell, dancing with an array of eager suitors. It cost her dear as her ankle was sore but it was worth the pain just to confound him. He did not approach her again but she could not stop him staring at her which he did relentlessly as the evening wore on. His dark eyes seemed to bore into her and turn her cheeks to fire.

She flirted outrageously with all her suitors, to the delight of her mother whose hopes of soon marrying her off soared as the evening progressed. Ailsa was only vaguely aware of the effect she had on them, of the way the blaze of candles and firelight lit up her flushed face and turned her hair to dark fire, of her ready smile which brought her lively intelligent face to life, of her lithe, nimble body as it whirled over the dance floor. They were as smitten as she was indifferent.

Hamish sought her out entreating her to drink some more whisky. ‘Have it. It’ll keep your strength up.’

‘No Hamish, it’s making my head spin.’

“Then you are no Highlander Ailsa.’

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