“A song? Yes, I could do this, but you would be missing something far more entertaining. Why my father, the great Chief Hennessy had the best legend teller in the whole village.”
“Yer father is a great Chief? I ha’ nah heard of him.”
“Oh but we come from a land far from here. Alas we have not heard of your glorious self, but yet here you are. Be it known that I will bring back tales of your bravery and prestige among your people.” She heard Dougray groan but she didn’t miss a beat. “Like yourself, my father is well respected among his followers.”
Merrick thought about this for a few moments. Try as he might, he couldn’t see that she was trying to trick him in any way. And he found that he rather liked this unusual woman. “A campfire story, hey?”
“Yes. One to spark the imagination to the fullest.” She played to the crowd now. “How many of you like to hear ghost stories, unexplained happenings that will scare the wits out of you?” She heard murmurs that they did and she noticed that a few had even nodded their heads. She turned her attention back to Merrick. “This tale is only for the bravest of all. All else should be wise to leave.” No one moved as their leader eyed each and every man with a warning that they better not move.
Merrick then waved his hand in front of him giving her the okay to continue.
She moved around the campfire dramatically waving her hands as she spoke. “Back in my country there is a strange little town by the name of Sleepy Hollow. It is a beautiful place with trees that bloom in the spring and leaves that turn shades of orange, yellow and gold in the fall. This place was everyone’s dream, but like everything that seems so perfect there was a downside to this paradise. They had a terrible secret that they tried to keep hidden.” Aislinn’s dark eyes widened and she waited for just the right moment before she spoke again in a tone that sent chills down everyone’s spine. “They were terrorized by the headless horseman.” She heard a few intakes of breath and she continued, “Every Hallows Eve, this headless horseman was in search of a new head. If you were unfortunate enough to be out when you should be tucked safe in your beds, he was liable to take yours.” She deliberately pointed to the gypsy with the earring. The man’s eyes widened and he took a step back like he was afraid that the horsemen indeed would come after him. Some couldn’t help but chuckled.
“Ichabod Crane was a well-educated man, the school teacher of the town….” She went on with the Washington Irving story, adding a few things of her own if she couldn’t remember the story exactly the way it should be, and loving every minute of it. She could tell that even Dougray started to relax. By the time she had completed the tale, he had actually enjoyed the show.
“…And the little town of Sleepy Hollow never saw the old school master again.” She ended with a bow. Merrick clapped his hands, and she lifted her gaze to meet his with a smile upon her lips.
“Well done, milady. I was most pleased. Ye may go home to tell yer great chief that ye are a grand storyteller yerself.”
“Thank you.” She graciously bowed again.
Merrick snapped his fingers and the man with the gold earring came forward. “Ye will give them a horse and some food to take with them. They are free to be on their way.” Merrick rose and so did Dougray to stand beside Aislinn. The gypsy leader came forward to speak to them. “Yer belongin’s will be returned to ye.”
“We are most grateful for yer kind hospitality, Merrick.” Dougray nodded his head.
“Aye, but ye should be thankin’ the lady.” He took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. “If we should meet again, I will have a campfire story for ye.”
“I would be most pleased to hear it.”
With that Merrick moved on into the night.
Aislinn was seated behind Dougray on the large horse, her arms wrapped around his waist. One of Merrick’s men led them part of the way before he bid them a good travel. The man was quick to disappear into the shadows. They were alone now, and Aislinn couldn’t help but let out a relieved chuckle.
“Something has amused ye, milady?” “Only that I saved your butt.” “Humph!”
“Oh come on now. Admit it. Words were stronger than your sword.” “Aye, this time perhaps, but if I should find myself in the midst of a battle, I would still rather have a weapon in my hands.”
“Ah yes,” she sighed. “That is how men think. Draw blood to solve their problems.”
“If there was another way, and if others would listen, I would gladly talk my way out of it. But alas, milady, there are those that have plugged their ears to a reasoning voice.”
She was silent wondering if he was speaking of his own experiences.
As they continued on for hours, she became drowsy. She leaned forward resting her head against his back. She felt him straighten making her sit up also. “Is something the matter?”
“Nay,” he lied. “Just settling myself.” Her arms around him had stirred emotions that he had thought were beyond him now. He patted her hands to reassure her that all was well. She resettled her head against his back. It surprised him that he liked the feel of her long arms on his waist.
Aislinn’s grip tightened. How strong he felt, firm, broad back. She had to resist letting her hands explore more. Indeed, she had to be tired if her thoughts were going there. She reminded herself that she thought him arrogant, bull headed, opinionated and these were his better qualities, but then…she couldn’t deny that he was very, very brave. She smiled to herself, those thoughts filtering through her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
She was jerked half-awake by a sudden pull on her arm. “What…what is it Prince Charming?”
“What did ye say?” Dougray turned in his seat to peer at her.
Fully awake now, she realized what she had just called him. She tried to cover it up with a yawn. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“I’d say. I nearly lost ye back there.” He pulled back on the reins. “We will stop for the night.”
Aislinn wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea, at least not after the dream she just had with her being Cinderella and Dougray, being Prince Charming. Strong arms holding her tight, lips caressing her…. “What?”
“Ye will have to loosen yer grip so that I can help ye down.”
“Oh. Oh, I can do it.” She was off the mount before he could say another word.
She stood a safe distance away, while he made camp. She was still a little disturbed over her dream of the Prince…no, Dougray’s lips that were kissing her.
“Aislinn.” She jumped at the sound of his voice. “What is the matter with ye? Ye seem skittish.”
“Nothing.” Her voice croaked and she coughed seemingly trying to clear it. “Nothing’s the matter. I’m just tired. It’s been a rough few days, if you haven’t noticed.” Her voice rose with each word making it sound as though she was angry with him.
“Sorry that I asked,” he mumbled as he sat down upon the ground. He pulled the hides over him and raised his eyes to meet hers. “Are ye just going to stand there?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Aislinn.” At the sound of his voice she jumped again.
“Oh, stop your bellowing. I swear, you are not happy unless you are issuing orders.” She plopped down beside him turning away from him. She drew her pack close using it as a pillow. She could feel his eyes on her for a long time, as though he was contemplating saying something to her, but in the end he settled down moving closer until his back was leaning against hers.
She chewed on her lower lip. This was going to be a long night, but to her surprised she slowly drifted to sleep, and when the first rays of the morning sun warmed her face, she snuggled closer relishing in the feel of the strong hands that caressed her.
Strong hands? Caressing?
Her eyes popped open with accusing words on her lips, but to her surprise Dougray was sound asleep curled around her with one bare leg draped over her hip, and his hand softly moving over her breasts. She didn’t want to w
ake him and tried to untangle herself, but he held on tighter pulling her closer.
“Do not go, Ella.”
Ella? A frown penetrated her brow. He was dreaming of holding another woman! “Wake up!” She jabbed him for good measure, not really sure if she was angry over the compromising position they were in, or that the man had called her by another woman’s name.
Dougray felt warm, his body responding to the feminine softness. His eyes slowly opened ready to greet…. His smile slipped from his face the moment that he realized who he had clutched against him. But she had felt so soft, so right in his arms. With sleep still fogging his mind, he acted on his feelings leaning forward to place claim to her lips. Aislinn shoved at his chest, but it was her glowering expression that had finally sobered him. With
a sigh, he reluctantly rolled away coming to his feet.
He cleared his throat and chose not to address what he had been about to do. He ran his hand through his hair. What was he about to do? “We better get moving.” His voice was choked with emotion making his request sound more like a gruff order. He was a little surprised when she answered him without one of her haughty retorts.
“Sure.” She slowly stood up. “Dougray?”
He paused, his back straightening to his full height. Slowly he turned, knowing he would have to face her wrath sometime and it might as well be now. “What just happened was a mistake,” he defended himself. “I was sleeping. Ye can’t hold me responsible for that, can ye?”
“Hey, I understand.” She shrugged showing her relief.
He chuckled nervously. “Ye and me together.” He shook his head. “Absurd. Right?”
“Oh yes, ridiculous,” she agreed. “Hey, you’re way too old for me anyway. I mean I won’t even be born for another five centuries or so.” She tried to laugh but somehow it didn’t seem funny.
He stared at her, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her shoulders to her chest, then as quickly he looked away clearing his throat. “We have to start moving.”
“Uh, yeah.” She may not be a good judge of men with her disastrous relationships trailing behind her, but she felt in her heart that Dougray was an honorable man. He wouldn’t take advantage of her just because he felt an attraction, and she wasn’t blind to the fact that he was looking. Heck, she was staring right back, but starting something with him, no matter how noble he was, would surely end up being the biggest mistake of her life. They argued endlessly, and she couldn’t forget the fact that she was from another century. As soon as she was able to talk to this Neala woman, she was going to go back to where she belonged. There could be no future between them.
Dougray was unsettled over what had transpired. He was not opposed to a casual coming together of a man and a woman, but Aislinn, as brazen as she may appear, was not a lass to be cast aside after they had both been pleasured. As for anything else…well that was impossible. She was too strong willed for his liking. They would be at each other’s throats, more than they would ever be beneath the covers. “Who is Ella?”
He was so startled to hear the name that he whirled around to face her, his bright dove-colored eyes clouding to a deep gray. Had that been it then? Were his desires only for Ella? Had he been dreaming about her? Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was not entirely true. He had known it was not his tiny petite Ella that he held in his arms. “I do not wish to speak of her to ye.”
“Why not?” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Your grimy paws groped over me with that woman’s name on your lips. Oh, I think that you owe me at least an explanation.”
“I owe ye nothing, lass.”
“And stop calling me lass.” She stomped her foot, her hands clenched as if she wished to punch him. “I have a name, damn you!” With that she stormed away from him. He thought about going after her to explain, but then in the end, he decided that maybe it was for the best that she cooled off first. He went back to the task at hand not ready to face his own feelings. Though his thoughts kept wondering back to how Aislinn’s taut body had felt under his caress. He may have spoken Ella’s name, but in his dreams it was not his dear departed wife’s face that he had wanted to kiss.
How he angered her to the point of wanting to throttle him. “The arrogant man!” She continued stomping away not caring if he was following her or not. She had to get away or the alternative was to send her fist into his face. She swung a branch out of her way. She would have continued on, but a voice from somewhere to her right startled her into an abrupt halt.
“If ye wish to live, do not go farther.” This masculine voice dared to demand his threat in the native tongue of the land. How she hated this world. Not a moment of peace before another man spoke orders that she bow to his will.
She slowly turned to face her opponent. He was tall, in his late twenties or so, with red hair that lay across his forehead and a mustache that draped near to his bare chin. He approached her, his sword drawn.
She spread her arms out, opening her palms. “As you can see, I am not armed.” She used the Gaelic since it seemed to be the language of choice.
The man stopped short. “Ye are a woman?” He seemed utterly amazed and that really pissed her off.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
The man seemed confused over her strange outburst and didn’t answer her. Instead he came forward. “Ye will need to come with me.”
“I think not.” Her swift kick found its mark before the man was able to take another step. He doubled over in pain, and she grabbed hold of his hair and jabbed her knee into his head. Before the man fell to the ground in agony, Aislinn turned and fled. She only managed a few yards before plowing into Dougray’s hard chest.
“There ye are.” He grabbed hold of her arm, ready to scold her for wandering off so far away from camp.
She struggled to be free. “Let me go, you fool. Once more, we’re being attacked.”
Dougray looked over her shoulder to see an angry man fighting with his mantle that had flipped over his head. Dougray moved Aislinn aside drawing his sword.
The man was cursing by the time he freed himself from the threatening cover. Dougray lost his ominous stance, and the man’s hostile retort choked in his throat.
“Murrough, well are ye not a sight for sore eyes.” Dougray sheathed his sword.
The man in question let out boisterous laugh and came forward. The twomen embraced as only two friends would do. “We thought that Butler had captured ye, and scurried ye away to hold ye hostage at Castlehold. My friend, where have ye been these last three days?” As he waited for Dougray to fill him in with the details, he eyed Aislinn suspiciously. His hand raised to his nose that felt just as tender as the lower portion of his body felt. He was most curious to know who Dougray’s traveling companion was, but was polite enough to wait for the introduction.
“These last three days?” Dougray was a little perplexed over this new information. By his calculations he had been gone almost two weeks.
Murrough became concerned. “Aye,” he said carefully. “Do ye not remember this? We met with the Butler, but the man would not listen to reason and attacked without warning.”
“I well remember it, Murrough. I just had thought that more time had passed that is all. How did we fair?”
“Only a few wounded, milord. The mist was so thick that the Butlers were forced to retreat. It was only when we had regrouped that we realized that ye were not among us. We searched the surrounding area, but only came across yer mount. We assumed the worst accusing the Butler of foul play, which he most profusely denied.”
“And with due cause, for he did not capture me.”
“As well I can see, milord.” Again Murrough glanced at the woman who had nearly knocked him senseless, and this was not a small feat to be had.
Dougray finally realized that he had not made the proper introductions. He turned to her. “This is Lady Aislinn Hennessey.”
Murrough gave him a rather comical look. “Lady Aislinn Hennessy?” “Aye
.” He kept his voice bland of emotion. “In the skirmish, I must have hit my head. It was the lady’s family that were good enough to care for me.” Murrough eyed the all too quiet woman in question. She didn’t look like a lady, and a woman of noble birth would never travel alone with a man without escorts. “Where are the others, milord?”
“Others?”
“Aye. The lady’s family?” “They were detained.”
“And her attendants?” Murrough persisted.
“We were attacked by highwaymen. Unfortunately, the young lady’s attendant was killed.” Dougray never had lied to Murrough, and he hated that he had to now, but there just wasn’t any other choice. He glanced at Aislinn wishing she would say something. By the glowering expression she threw at
him, he knew she was still upset. He cleared his throat. “Milady, may I present Murrough O’Donoghue.”
Aislinn nodded her head. “We’ve met.” She stepped forward then and Murrough met her halfway.
“I apologize for the way that I greeted you, milady.” He bowed. “And I apologize for my response.”
Dougray could well imagine what had transpired. The woman was quick as lightning, striking without warning.
“Where do ye hail from?” Murrough questioned. “I’m afraid that I cannot place the tell of your words.”
“Across the seas, a land far from here. We are only visiting, to see how the other side of the world lives.” The way that Murrough was looking at her, she felt that maybe she had said too much. She never thought to ask what year this was, but by their dress she could only assume that this was possibly the sixteenth century.
“The other side of the world, milady. That is indeed far.” There was skepticism in his voice.
Dougray decided to take over. “Her father is Donagh Hennessy, chieftain to her clan.”
Murrough looked to Aislinn then back to his friend once more. He couldn’t see why Dougray would mislead him. “Ye speak as though ye have known this clan? Are they related to the Hennessys that live beyond Dublin?” “Uh…yes, but that was a long time ago. We live…” Aislinn realized that they hadn’t come up with where she was going to pretend she was from. Obviously she couldn’t say the United States since it didn’t exist yet. “We live far from here,” she finished lamely.
Lost in the Mist of Time Page 13
