He glared at Beth for a moment, then he spun away, kilt swirling out around his legs, and strode out of the barn.
The dance finished, Angus escorted Isobel, as he now knew she was called, back to her seat and made his escape before she could find another reason to detain him. He was almost at the door when he was arrested by a pull on his kilt as he strode past a group of the older folk. So desperate was he now to find out what Morag and Robert were doing, that he pretended he hadn't noticed and tried to march on. The resultant deathgrip on his attire nearly disrobed him. He stopped and looked down into the delicate face of Beth's grandmother. The tiny fragile hand held onto his kilt like a limpet.
"Angus," she said pleasantly. "I'm afraid I need to go to the privy. Would you be so kind as to escort me? It's a wee bit embarrassing, but as we're kin now I kent ye wouldna mind. And ye're a braw laddie. If I stumble, ye'll have nae trouble catching me, I'm thinking."
Angus now most definitely smelt a rat. This old lady who had just been demonstrating the steps of a remarkably vigorous dance, had no more need of being assisted to the small shed out the back than he did. And she did not seem the sort to be embarrassed by something as natural as going to the toilet, having joined in lustily with ‘Geld him lasses, geld him,' and then led the chorus of the extremely bawdy song Angus had taught Sir Horace Mann's clerks several months ago in Florence. He looked around. Alex was in one corner with several other men, all much the worse for drink, trying to balance his sword on his nose. Duncan was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Beth.
Praying that they had gone where he was trying to, and that they would stop Robert and Morag before any harm was done, he gave his arm to the suddenly frail old lady, assisting her to rise. He would deal with the wee yellow-haired shite later, if he'd dishonoured Morag.
"I'm sorry, Morag," said Beth when Robert had left.
"Dinna be sorry," replied Morag, sniffing loudly and valiantly attempting to fight back the tears. "I should be thanking you. He tellt me he loved me. He tellt me he just wanted to be alone wi' me for a wee while. He tellt me I was beautiful." A tear trickled slowly down her cheek.
Beth knelt down beside her in the hay.
"You are beautiful, Morag," she said softly. It was not true. The girl was pretty enough, but no more than that. But now was not the time for fine distinctions.
"No, I'm not," said Morag sadly. "I'm daft in the heid, that's what I am, tae believe him."
"You're not daft, Morag, you're young is all," said Beth. "You've got to learn that a man'll tell you anything if it'll get you to lift your skirts for him. It takes time to fall in love with someone, more than two days, anyway. You're not in love with him, are you?"
"Not any more I'm no', the bastard," she replied with feeling, wiping her eyes on her skirt. "He made me feel awfu' good, though. Sort of special and warm inside. How d'ye ken the difference? How d'ye ken if he's the right one?"
Beth sighed. She had no idea. She had fallen in love with a spoilt brat who'd threatened to cut her fingers off, and married a man she didn't like who had turned out to be the love of her life.
"It's not easy," she said after a minute. "You need to take the time to get to know him, to feel that you can relax with him, tell him anything, trust him. Men can be very convincing though, when they're aroused. But if a man really cares for you he'll not try to take your virginity before you're married. Or rather, he might try, because sex is a powerful urge, you understand. But if you say no he won't try to make you."
"He would have, would he no'?" said Morag, starting to recover now.
"Yes, I think so, if I hadn't found you. I'm not saying he didn't like you, Morag, and he certainly desired you. But he should have respected you too, and he wasn't doing that."
"No, you're right, he wasna," she said. "Oh God, I don't think I'm ever going to find the right man!"
Beth suppressed a smile. Life is very serious when you're fourteen.
"There are lots of nice young men in the clan. Give it time, Morag, you've only been a woman for two months. You're very young to be marrying."
"My ma was fourteen when she married Da," Morag pointed out. "And she'd known him for years before. I dinna ken anyone worth marrying!"
"What about Angus? He seems to like you," Beth said without thinking, then wished she hadn't.
"Angus?" said Morag, snorting. "Angus still thinks of me as a wee bairn. He's more likely to duck me in the loch than invite me to the stables."
Beth could not dispute this, knowing Angus.
"Do you like him, though? Can you tell him anything, and do you feel relaxed around him?"
"Well, aye," said Morag, reassessing the relationship before Beth's eyes. "Or at least I could. But since he's come back this time he's been different. Sort of stiff, a wee bit formal like. I dinna think he likes me any more."
Beth could have gone into the likely reasons why Angus would be suddenly awkward around Morag, but realised that her life would not be worth living if she did and Angus got to find out. Better the girl find it out for herself.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she said instead, standing. "But I am sure of one thing. If you stay away much longer you'll be missed. Are you ready to go back yet?"
Morag accepted Beth's hand and stood. Her eyes were still a bit pink, but that could be put down to the drink, if anyone noticed.
"Aye," she said. "I am. And I'll no' forget this night in a hurry."
When Robert emerged from the stables Duncan shrank back into the shadows so as not to be observed. He watched the boy walk across the clearing, then, only feet from the barn, change his mind and veer away, heading instead for the lochside, his steps slowing as he went. A bare ten seconds after he'd disappeared into the trees Angus appeared, heading purposefully for the stables. Duncan moved forward to meet him halfway across the clearing. Behind Angus, Kenneth emerged from the barn, started to run, saw Duncan and stopped.
"It's over," said Duncan as he reached Angus. "There's nae harm done."
"No' yet," said Angus, "But there will be when I get my hands on the wee shit." He moved to pass Duncan, who grabbed him by the arm.
"He's no' there," he said. "Beth's dealt wi' it. Robert's gone and Beth's comforting Morag. Ye'll do nothing but harm if ye play the avenging angel now."
"Ye let Beth deal wi' it?" Angus said.
"Aye, she's fully capable, as ye well know. I didna want the wee gomerel to challenge me."
"Did ye no'?" replied Angus hotly. "Well, I'd be delighted if he challenged me. Where is he?"
"He's away off to the loch tae think things through. He didna hurt her, Angus. There's nae cause for a fuss."
"He tried to rape her, did he no'?" cried the young man, losing his temper. "He enticed her there and then he tried to rape her, and ye say there's nae cause for a fuss?"
"She went there of her own free will, and he tried to seduce her. Beth got to them in time. It … "
"Christ, Duncan, ye're going soft," spat Angus contemptuously. "He's sullied the clan and disrespected a wee lassie and ye're willing tae let it pass? Well I'm not!"
Duncan's fists clenched at his side, and he only refrained from hitting his younger brother by reminding himself that this display of temper was inspired by his fondness for Morag. Angus spun away in the direction of the trees, then stopped suddenly, arrested in his pursuit of Robert by Kenneth, who had approached unheard and now wrapped his arms around the young man, pinioning him. Angus froze.
"Let me go," he said through gritted teeth. "Let me go, Kenneth, or I'll kill ye when ye do."
"Hear your brother out first," said Kenneth softly, "and then ye can do as ye wish an' I'll no' stop ye."
There was no point in struggling and losing his dignity. No one man could match Kenneth's strength. No two men could.
"Right then," Angus said, glaring at his brother. "Say your piece, and then let me go. I'll no' kill the bastard, if that's what's worrying ye. I'll just make him wish I had."
Now he had a captive audience, Duncan realised he had no idea how to calm Angus. He thought for a moment. Morag. She was his weak spot.
"He didna rape her, Angus. He didna seduce her either. They did no more than have a wee kiss and a cuddle before Beth disturbed them. Morag was already changing her mind. Likely she's had too much wine and let herself be sweet talked. Ye ken all about sweet talk, Angus, ye're a master of it."
"Aye, I am," agreed Angus. "But I'd no' use it to try to dishonour a bairn!"
"She's no' a bairn anymore, as ye well know, man. She's a woman, although a very young one. She's feeling the power of being a woman for the first time and what it can do to a man. It's a mighty thing, and ye're feeling the effects of it yourself, if I'm right."