a mere child be slaughtered and helped with whisking the lad away to safety.
The FitzGeralds, the name had sounded familiar to Aislinn and now she knew why.
“Do ye know of what deeds the Tudor King does?” “I believe so.” Aislinn shuttered at the thought.
“So ye see,” Rhiannon continued. “Milord was only given back what had been taken away when his father died. Rest assured, milord had to suffer his tender years bowing to the Tudor King, but he bided his time. He endured, so that he could once again return to his home. He had not bargained to be knighted and given back his lands, but fate sometimes is ironic.”
“But isn’t his loyalties dangerous, knowing how the king is fond of eliminating anyone that he considers a threat?”
“It is dangerous even if ye do bow down to the man. Gerald Og is proof enough for that.” Rhiannon realized that the room had become shades darker indicating that she had talked long enough. “Moira asked me to make sure that ye wouldn’t linger, and just look what I’ve done. We must hurry now for Moira had wanted to have time to arrange yer hair.”
Aislinn couldn’t help but laugh, as her hand went to her short tresses. “Tell me, how could this take long to arrange?”
Rhiannon just gave her a knowing smile. “Moira has something quite special in mind. She thinks even milord will find it appealing and perhaps his temper may be appeased.”
“Humph! What do I care if he finds it appealing or not?”
Rhiannon watched Aislinn as she nervously ran her hand over the back of the fine wood of the sofa. She looked up then with uncertainty in her words. “Do you really think that she could do something with it? My hair, I mean. It would be nice if something would please the old grump. Nothing I do ever makes him smile. He’s always yelling and complaining about one thing or another.”
“He cares for ye. Is it not obvious to ye then?”
Aislinn’s eyebrows furrowed. “He feels an obligation. There’s a difference.”
“Nay, not always. I see the way that he looks at ye.” “What? With disgust?”
Rhiannon chuckled. “Nay. He looks at ye with warmth; his soul reaches for ye.”
“Most likely you are seeing the part that’s trying to reach out and strangle me.” Even though she said those words, Aislinn wanted to believe that it could be possible that he at least liked her. Dougray was strong, determined and opinionated, nothing like any of the men whom she had ever dated.
“Methinks that ye underestimate yerself. Admit it: ye are drawn to him also.”
“I might like him, if he would not be so ill tempered. Occasionally I see a redeeming quality or two, but not enough to make me imagine that anything could ever come of it. We’d kill each other if we were ever left alone in a room long enough.”
“Maybe we should put this to the test, aye? Could prove most interesting who would come out the victor.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” They continued to talk as they headed up the winding stairs.
After a long soaking in the tub with fresh roses floating around her, Aislinn felt revived. She was ready to face anything, even if it was one of Dougray’s sour moods. Moira had laid out a beautiful red velvet dress that was cut tight to the hips and fell in folds to the ground. With Aislinn’s long, slender physique, it was a stunning effect, molding perfectly to each and every curve. “I’ve never worn anything like this before.” Aislinn looked down at herself wondering if she should dare to wear it. “Are you sure it looks all right?” Her gaze found both Rhiannon and Moira smiling.
“Ye are beautiful. Trust me, A.J. Now come sit.” Moira pointed to the velvet-lined chair. “I will do yer hair and then ye can make yer grand entrance.” She did seem to work magic, curling a few ends of her dark hair and pinning to her head a tightly woven net that was made out of gold strands.
It gave the appearance that her hair was long and was tucked beneath the headdress. “No one will know that ye have cut off all yer hair.”
“Not that I care,” Aislinn informed them.
“Of course not,” both women answered in return.
They handed her the mirror. The glass was not as clear like the mirrors in her century, but she could make out her image. She was amazed. She actually looked like a picture-book lady.
“Are ye pleased?” Moira hoped.
Aislinn looked at her, warmth evident in her eyes. “Now where were you when I went to the senior prom?” She saw the confused look and she waved her hand. “Forget I said that. I love what you did, Moira. I feel like a princess.” She stood and took a deep breath before she headed toward the door. “I just hope that I don’t trip or something.”
“Ye will do fine,” Rhiannon encouraged.
After she headed down to meet Dougray and his guests, Rhiannon looked to Moira. “Ye think that she never owned anything so fine.”
“I don’t think that she has. She did not come with anything, but the attire that is only befitting of a man.”
“She must have come from a strange world with women dressing like men. Do ye suppose the men dress like women?” Rhiannon asked and they both burst out laughing. “I suppose not. If the women are as tough as Aislinn, then the men must be even more so.”
“I do not think that I would want to come across one of her clansmen.” Moira shook her head. “I would be frightened.”
“Oh, Moira, men are all the same and after one thing from us. We fit together.”
“Ye wouldn’t think so by the way the Abbot Kirwan preaches every week.
I had to do penance for just a thought. Ye’d think that I committed a mortal sin.”
“Yer religion is a strange one. The old ways are much simpler.” Rhiannon mulled over the differences.
“Are ye not afraid that yer soul will burn in hell for yer heathen ways?” Rhiannon laughed. “Nay. A soul lives on forever and not in this one place called heaven that yer priest has told ye. Unlike ye Christians, I do not fear what lies beyond death. It will only be the next step in my life.”
“If ye do not mind, I will pray for yer soul anyway, Rhiannon,” she half- heartedly joked.
“And I will ask the gods to be kind to yers.” She smiled joining in her mirth.
Aislinn could hear Dougray’s voice above the other guests. They were conversing in Gaelic and she readied herself to do the same. She found that it was becoming easier and easier to do so since most of the inhabitants of Dunhaven still clung to the old language.
She would have felt more comfortable if she could have made her entrance in her sweatshirt and homemade slacks. “Oh well, here goes.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
Everyone fell silent, making her feel incredibly uncomfortable. Her eyes met Dougray’s and she was not sure that she felt any better. He stared at her, like he didn’t even recognize her. His gaze clung to her every movement and his eyes flashed with azure fire. What she didn’t realize was the red velvet of her dress had heightened her smooth skin making it glow with pale gold undertones. Dougary had known that she was a striking woman, but tonight she seemed to outshine his expectations.
“Dougray, are ye not going to introduce us to this lovely creature?” This came from the older man with broad shoulders who was now standing next to him. Wind and sun bronzed the man’s face. There was an inherent strength in his features that made him remarkably handsome with his dark hair and light eyes.
Finally Dougray came to his senses and moved forward to greet her. He leaned close so that only she would hear his words. “Ye look enchanting.” She gave him a startled look and his deep chuckle met her ears. “Don’t look so stunned. I am known to give a compliment when one is due.” He took hold of her arm and led her forward to meet the honored guests. He started with the dark-haired gentleman first. “May I introduce Lady Aislinn Hennessy. She is of a land far from here, and in my care until I am able to return her safely to her father.” It was amazing how this fabricated story could flow from his lips, as if it were the gospel truth.
“Milady, this brass gent is Chieftain Owen Dubhdara,” Dougray introduced him and the chieftain bowed ever so slightly.
“And…” Dougray pointed to the other gentleman who had moved forward now to be introduced. He was a thin man with a rather pointed nose. His hair was light brown with streaks of gray. His mouth was small causing his smile to appear like an unnatural curve. “…this is Sir Robert Burke,” Dougray finished, as the man took her hand brushing his lips over her knuckles.
“It is always a pleasure to meet a beautiful young woman.” He released his grip. “If I had known that ye would be greeting my ship, I would have taken to the seas myself. I thought only savages resided in distant lands.” It seemed as though he was giving her a compliment, but Aislinn recognized a slight undertone that spoke differently.
“Oh, trust me, kind sir, we are savages.” Her brows arched and her eyes glowed mischievously. She felt Dougray’s slight, warning pressure on her arm, but still she did not stop. “Where I come from, we dance around naked most of the time and only wear clothes when forced.” She smiled completely, putting Robert Burke off guard, but she could tell that Dubhdara was fighting a smile that tugged dangerously at the corners of his mouth. She then laughed a loud boisterous laugh. “I am only joking.” Again she felt Dougray’s grip tighten, but she heard his light chuckle and knew he wasn’t too upset with her.
Even Dubhdara’s chortle was rich and sincere making Aislinn like him immediately. Burke, on the other hand, laughed behind his open palm, a courtesy laugh, as though he had not understood the joke. He made her feel uneasy with the way he stared at her.
At dinner, Aislinn was seated beside Dubhdara and Dougray at the high table. She was pleasant and answered many of the questions that were put to her. She was free to say whatever she pleased, within limits, of course. She didn’t want her story to sound so far fetched that they would question her.
The company was pleasant enough but she was anxious to have it move along a little faster. She had something up her sleeve for this evening, as long as everything went according to plan. The day had proven to be warm and the night was pleasant enough without a hint of rain. She knew that the entertainment would be moved to the court area outdoors. An Irish clear night was something to behold and it allowed her the freedom that she needed.
Aislinn waited for she knew that soon the men would retire to a more private setting, so that they may discuss the real issue of this visit. The name Dubhdara O’Malley seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she was not at all sure why. She knew some of the Irish history that her father had told her, but she had listened with a child’s interest. Now she wished that she had paid closer attention. She might have been able to help with decisions that had cost Ireland its freedom. Maybe this was the reason she was here. Could history really be changed, and if so, to what cost? These questions plagued her mind.
Her eyes caught just the person she had been searching for. “Edmond,” she called to the boy. He came to her side immediately, anxious to be of any service.
“Milady.” He bowed.
“Edmond, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” “Aye, milady.”
“Do you know Dermot…I’m sorry I do not know his last name. He is about so high.” She held her hand to where her shoulders were indicating how tall the man was to her. “He was one of the kern.”
“Aye, milady. I know whom ye speak of.”
She put her hands on the boy’s shoulders giving them a quick squeeze. “Good. I need you to find him and tell him to meet me over at the far corner near that alcove.” She turned the boy around and indicated the area that she meant. “Do you understand?”
Edmond nodded. “I will not fail ye.” He took off in search of Dermot, as if his life depended on it.
Aislinn slowly made her way to the area that would shield her from prying eyes, but would also enable her to draw attention of a certain lord when the time was appropriate. Now all she had to do was wait for Edmond to bring Dermot to her.
She had felt simply awful that she had been the cause of the man losing face in the eyes of his peers. Here she had thought by insisting that his life be spared everything would have been all right. Now it looked like death would have been less torturous for the man. She had witnessed the ridicule that Dermot had to endure, and all because of Dougray’s stubborn pride. It was beyond cruel, and if she didn’t do something quick, next she’d have Dermot’s suicide on her head.
Finally Dermot came into view, but he did not see her and was about to turn away. She stepped away from the shadows. “Dermot,” she hissed drawing his attention. He turned toward her with obvious dread making her heart go out to him. She waved to him wanting him to come closer.
“Please, milady, I cannot be seen with ye. Do ye want me banished as well?”
She ignored his plea for if her planned worked everything would be back to the way it should be. “Listen, we don’t have much time.” She glanced over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching. “I want to correct what has happened to you. I have a plan.” She pulled him farther away from view of anyone who might happen by, and closer to the edge of the alcove. She peeked over the side. It was a long way down and if she slipped it would be her death, but she was confident that this would never happen. She was strong and able to do sixty or so pull-ups. This should be a cinch.
“What are ye plannin’?” Dermot was beginning to become skittish. The woman was trouble, and for him, just being near her could prove disastrous. “Because I see it in yer eyes, and it is something I’ve no wish to be a part of.” He started to back away, but she grabbed hold of his hand.
“You will thank me later for this. All I’m going to do is dangle over this ledge.”
“What?” He knew now that she must be mad, and she was going to get him killed along with her. He might as well just jump, when she did.
“I’ll be fine. Trust me. All you have to do is pull me to safety and you’ll be deemed a hero. Ta da, you will be back in his lord’s good graces.” She waved her hand like she was the fairy of good fortune, granting him his wish. “I’ll be strung up,” his voice squeaked. “Do not do this. I implore ye. I am in so much trouble as it is. I will be near a hundred before I can prove that I am once more a worthy man.”
Aislinn was not listening and had already climbed onto the ledge, which was not an easy feat with the long dress that she had been forced to wear. It was a good thing that the castle stone was not damp from rain. Her grip was secure.
“Stop, please,” he hissed and glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had noticed. Without warning, she let out a blood-curdling scream. He nearly bolted from fear. Cormac was the first to reach them.
Aislinn drew Dermot’s attention with her whispering plea. “You fool.
Pull me up now before someone does it for you.” Her urgent demand moved him into action. He grabbed a hold of her forearms, though he was sure she was pulling herself over more than he was managing the deed. One last tug and she fell forward sending them both to the ground. At that moment, Dougray and his honored guests made an appearance. Dermot closed his eyes in dismay. This compromising scene didn’t bode well.
“What is going on here!” Dougray bellowed his outrage causing the others to part to one side, so that their lord could move forward. He glared down at Aislinn who was sprawled across Dermot in a most unladylike fashion. “Dermot, this is the last straw. You will die by this sword.” Aislinn heard the metal scrape, as it was unsheathed. She was upon her feet in a flash.
“Don’t be utterly ridiculous. You should be praising Dermot for his courage.”
Dougray hesitated as he looked at Dermot who still had not risen. “Explain.”
“He saved my life. I was leaning over the ledge.” She pointed just to m
ake her point. “And I guess that I leaned too far and ended up falling over. If it weren’t for Dermot, I would have fallen to my death. He’s a hero.” She motioned for Dermot to stand. He couldn’t claim the title on his derrière.
“Aye, milord.” Cormac came forward. “I saw it all for myself. Dermot indeed saved the lady.” Thank God for Cormac because Dermot was still sputtering like a fool, but at least he was on his feet now.
“A man who needs to be congratulated.” The O’Malley’s voice bellowed as he pounded Dougray on the back.
Aislinn could tell that Dougray was not entirely buying this whole scene, but knowing he had no other choice right now but to accept it. “Aye. Dermot, we will speak later on the reward, for now come join us in a drink.”
Sir Robert Burke looked to Aislinn, his brows lifted questionably. She quickly looked away, not wanting to meet his scrutinizing gaze.
The crowd started to withdraw, ready to hear Dermot’s version of his quick thinking that led to saving Lady Aislinn.
Aislinn would have followed but Dougray put a restraining hand on her arm. “A word with ye, milady.” He had lowered his voice so that only she could hear him. He smiled and nodded as each person went on their way, but when they were alone his gaze was anything but pleasant. He let go of her arm and walked over to the ledge that she had been dangling from. He closed his eyes, as the image of her falling to her death nearly choked him. When he composed himself once more, he looked at her. “Why?” was all he said, as he folded his arms against his chest and leaned against the stoned wall. “I’m not sure that I understand the question.”
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