Highland Storms Read Online Free PDF Page B

matters and neither of her daughters wanted to take on these tasks. Flora was too busy looking after her mother and Kirsty – well, she was hoping to get married, although as yet there had been no announcement.
    ‘ Ah, there you are girls. Come in, come in. We’ve only just started.’ Ailsa was sitting at a round table by the window, together with Flora, working on a huge quilt which was spread out between them. It was made up of dozens of tiny squares of material, all scraps left over from other projects or cut up old garments. Since there was no money with which to buy new lengths of silk, they’d had to make do with whatever they could find. To Marsaili’s mind, this in no way detracted from the beauty of the quilt, which was a piece of art in itself. The ladies were now in the process of embellishing it even further by adding embroidery to some of the squares. They had decided on a theme of flowers, since this allowed for individuality yet a uniform appearance.
    She and Kirsty took their places at the table and picked up one side each, continuing with the motifs they’d been working on the previous day. Marsaili was creating a sprig of heather, the purple and lilac hues vivid against the pale cream square she’d chosen to embroider on. Kirsty had just started on a rose, the bright yellow of it making another splash of colour on her side of the quilt.
    ‘ How are you today, madam?’ Marsaili asked the older woman politely. Ailsa had asked her to call her by her name, but somehow it didn’t feel right.
    ‘ I’m very well, thank you, my dear. It’s such a lovely, sunny day. How can one not be in good spirits?’
    ‘ Indeed.’ Marsaili smiled, but thought to herself that it would have done Ailsa the world of good to actually go outside and enjoy the sunshine and fresh air, rather than stay cooped up in her tower. Unlike Seton, Marsaili didn’t think Ailsa was ‘away with the fairies’, as he’d put it, but she was frail and nervous. Small and birdlike, she looked as though she’d blow away in a strong wind. Her face was remarkably unlined for a woman of her age and the ash blonde hair mixed with grey suited her, but some exercise might have put roses in her pale cheeks. Marsaili had a feeling Ailsa would be pretty with a bit of colour, but she refused even to come downstairs for meals.
    ‘ How is your lovely hound? I thought I heard barking earlier?’
    Ailsa’s remark seemed innocuous, but Marsaili sometimes wondered if the woman knew more about what was going on at Rosyth House than she let on. Her pale blue gaze gave nothing away, however, so Marsaili replied with the lie she thought was required.
    ‘ Fine, thank you. He was probably just answering some of the other dogs. You know how they love to make a racket.’
    Ailsa smiled. ‘Yes, of course. And has he acted as a deterrent to the determined suitor you were telling me about?’
    Marsaili had concocted a story about a love-sick groom, who she claimed was pestering her, in order to obtain the necessary consent to keep Liath with her at all times. Ailsa had been in favour of this and had given her permission.
    ‘ So far, thank you. Liath is a wonderful guard dog.’
    Ailsa nodded. ‘Good, I’m glad.’ Then, as if her mind flitted from one thing to another, she changed the subject and began to talk about some gossip she’d heard from Flora. Marsaili breathed a sigh of relief. She had sensed many times that Ailsa was afraid of Seton, and after the woman’s many kindnesses to her, the last thing she wanted was to force her into a confrontation with the man.
    Stabbing her needle into the material with unwarranted viciousness, she swore she’d handle him herself. She just didn’t know how yet.
     
    ‘ Wishin’ ye guid weather,’ the landlord called after Brice as he left the inn the following morning, feeling slightly bleary. Although the heather mattress he’d slept on was comfortable enough, the little inn hadn’t afforded much in the