It had been a terribly dramatic afternoon and those were the sort that Ailsa not-so-secretly preferred above all others. Assuming nothing too awful happened of course - she wasn't a masochist! - but it was with a certainly spring in her step that she hurried up the path to her front door, hurriedly throwing it open and immediately calling for her husband, eager to share her delightfully exciting story with the one person in the world she knew would never look at her as though her pleasure in life was a misplaced emotion.  

"Ewart!" Ailsa practically skipped through the house, the slight throb in her ankle largely unimportant for the time being as she shed her cloak and hat, leaving them strewn in the hallway. Where on earth was he? His cloak was resting over a set of nesting tables she had purchased in Florence so he was definitely here somewhere...

She kicked off her shoes and leaned against the wall to examine her ankle, assessing whether she had a bruise already. There was definitely something there and no doubt she was black and blue all over from where she had been dragged along the floor - she needed a hot bath and witch hazel, but first she needed sympathy (and possibly somebody to help her soothe her tender body with said witch hazel).

"Darling, here you are!" She opened the door to his study with relief and flounced in, settling herself on the chaise by the fire he had brought in for when she visited him in his private sanctum and immediately pulled a pained face. "You won't believe what happened to me today."

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oh MJ mama likes ;)