******
With her newfound strength and determination Aishlinn tackled her studies that afternoon with the fierceness of a Highland warrior. Smart enough to know she could not learn everything she wanted to in a day, she was determined to succeed and cared not how long it might take.
Bree and Ellen joined her in the study room to help her in anyway that they could. Aishlinn decided that while weaving was indeed a wonderful thing to learn she would put that on hold while she turned her entire focus to learning to read and write, as well as speak the Gaelic.
That evening when Duncan came to her room to escort her to the evening meal, he noted that there was something different in her demeanor. She did not look at the floor while she walked; instead she held her head high, her shoulders back, walking with the grace and dignity of a nobleman’s daughter.
Although she was quite determined to have a new opinion of herself, not one of conceit but merely one of realizing she was more than she had ever been allowed to be, she was still quite nervous around Duncan. She blushed red when Duncan told her she looked beautiful in the new green gown that Bree and Ellen had made for her. You can’t change everything in one night she told herself.
After they had eaten, Duncan asked “Would ya like to take a walk around the loch with me, Aishlinn?”
“Aye. That would be very nice,” she said as he took her hand and led her out of the castle and through the gates towards the loch. With no breeze and a nearly full moon, the loch stood gleaming in the darkness like a giant silver platter. Night insects and creatures called to one another, their sounds carried through the warm night air.
As they walked hand in hand Duncan broke the quietness of the night by saying, “There is something different about ya this night, Aishlinn.”
“How do you mean?” she asked.
He took a moment before answering. “Ye have a new presence about ya, as if yer stronger, in yer heart.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I wonder, was it my kisses that brought this new presence to ya?”
From the corner of her eye she caught his wry smile. “Perhaps.”
She was not sure if she should share her morning conversation and awareness with him. Had he not kissed her and she not had the smile on her face, the conversation with Mary and Laren would never have taken place. She felt it right then to give him most of the credit. “I think it had much to do with it.”
“But not all?” he asked playfully.
“It was a realization I came to this morning, with the help of Isobel, Mary and Laren,” she said.
“And what was that realization?”
She let out a sigh, wanting very much not to sound full of herself. “That I am not as plain as I might have once thought. Nor am I as unintelligent as people in my past might have wanted me to believe.”
Duncan stopped and turned to her. “Well it’s about time,” he said before pulling her to him. “I’ve been telling ya that for sinnights now.”
Were it possible for a man to be considered beautiful, Duncan McEwan would be that man. The moon cast silver bands across his twinkling indigo eyes. When he had pulled her to him for the first time last evening Aishlinn was certain his muscles had been chiseled from stone. His arms had felt so hard and strong yet they gave her a sense of safety.
All she could think of at this moment, however, was how badly she wanted to kiss him. Although she had a new inner strength, she did not think she had the tenacity to reach up and kiss him.
He gave her no time to think of it. Before she could get up the courage, he leaned into her, his lips feeling like a whisper, lingering just on the precipice until she could stand it no more. Putting her hands around his neck she pulled him to her, deepening the kiss and surprising herself with her own courage.
His large hands swallowed her waist as he drew her nearer. He felt her teeth as they began to nibble upon his lips, just as he had done to her the evening before. Duncan found himself growing more excited at her boldness. He wondered only briefly from where this new strength, this new confidence of hers came. Briefly only because he was swept away as she searched for his tongue with her own.
Their breathing came faster as they caressed one another. Her hands caressed his face, then his neck before spreading down his shoulders to his arms.
He wanted, needed and hungered for more of her as he pulled her even closer. There was a passion in her kiss, one he had not expected, had not prepared himself for.
Slowly he slid his hands up and down her back, resting only briefly again at her waist before traveling back up her sides. A gasp came from her as he touched the sides of her breasts before winding his way up to her neck.
Aishlinn had never felt this way before, so desperate for a touch, a kiss. She loved the way his mouth felt on hers, warm and moist. It was as if they searched for a deep secret. And when his hands touched her breasts, she thought she would most certainly faint from the sheer pleasure as well as the improperness of it.
The more he kissed her, the less she cared for what might be proper and what not. She only cared that he would kiss her this way again and again. As her breaths grew faster her body grew warmer, as if she had been stuffed into the ovens.
Duncan could have taken her in that moment, there, on the ground in front of the loch and not cared who might stumble upon them. He wanted to feel her skin on his. He wanted to know what she might look like with her naked skin bathed in the light of the moon. And from the way she was returning his kisses, his touches, he thought she might not object.
Before they could do something they might later regret, he pushed her from him. He could go no farther than this, not here, not now. His heart told him he wanted to do this properly, to court her as a she deserved.
Aishlinn looked at him with a look of exasperation upon her face. “Why did you stop?”
Duncan laughed at her. “Lass, I had to or I’d have stripped ya naked and taken ya here and now. I think ya be deservin’ a little more respect than that.”
He kissed her lightly on her forehead while she took deep, slow breaths in an attempt to calm herself.
“I don’t think ya be wantin’ me to do that on our first day of courtin’.”
As much as she hated admitting it, she knew he was probably right. Even with her new sense of worthiness and confidence, she did not want the first time she laid with a man to be out of doors, on the ground where anyone might happen upon them.
She almost asked him how long he would court her before he would lay with her, but bit her tongue. Thinking she might go mad before it happened, she could only thank him for respecting her. Inwardly, she wished he would behave like the devil she knew he could be. She prayed that the courting process would not take long for she didn’t know if she had the strength to hold onto her own self respect and dignity.
******
For the next few days their routine remained relatively the same. Duncan would meet her outside her bedchamber each morning with little tokens such as a ribbon for her hair or a bit of dried heather or more flowers. He would escort her to the kitchens before heading off to either train or see to his duties as acting chief.
It was not easy to study in the afternoons, what with her stomach tied in knots with anticipation of him escorting her to the evening meal. After the evening meal, they would enjoy a walk around the loch where they would share stolen kisses that were becoming more and more intense.
A light rain had come to Castle Gregor this day, casting dark gray shadows across the loch and lands. The castle felt oddly quiet as if its moods matched the weather around them.
Aishlinn was finding it more difficult to study for her mind kept turning to Duncan’s kisses. Bree and Ellen were with her, giggling more over lads than they were concentrating on their studies. Aishlinn shushed them more than once, reminding them that if Isobel overheard their giggling she would be most displeased.
There was a knock upon the study door and Bree jumped up to see who it was. She returned moments later, an impis
h grin on her face as she clutched a bit parchment in her hands. Quickly she scrambled back to her seat next to Aishlinn.
“What is it?” Ellen asked. “Who was at the door?”
Aishlinn was trying to ignore them but it was nearly impossible.
“Twas a messenger,” Bree said. “For Aishlinn.”
Aishlinn spun to face her. “A messenger? For me?” she was very surprised over it. It was then that she saw that Bree was clutching something to her chest. “Is that for me?”
Bree nodded. “Tis from Duncan!” She giggled before handing it over. Aishlinn’s hands shook with excitement as she carefully unfolded the parchment. Her smile was instantly replaced with a look of disappointment. “Tis written in the Gaelic!” she said.
“I’ll read it!” Bree said excitedly as she grabbed the parchment. Aishlinn was not sure what the message might say and she was worried it would hold some very improper message. Before she could take it back, Bree began to read it aloud.
“Mo Chuisle,” she began.
“In English!” Aishlinn pleaded.
“My pulse, my heart.” Bree couldn’t help but giggle when she saw Aishlinn turn as red as a beet. “My pulse, my heart. Ye are beautiful and I am finding it quite difficult to concentrate on my duties this day. Meet me near the stables as soon as ye read this. Duncan.” Bree clutched the note to her chest as she and Ellen giggled again.
“Och! ‘Tis so romantic!” Ellen said excitedly.
Aishlinn took the note and folded it as neatly as her trembling fingers would allow. She tucked it into her apron before going back to her studies.
Bree and Ellen looked at her curiously. “Are ya no’ going to meet him?” Bree asked.
“Aye, I will,” Aishlinn said staring at the pages before her. It was impossible to focus on any of the words.
“But he said as soon as ya read it to meet him,” Ellen said, wondering why Aishlinn didn’t rush from the room.
“Aye, it did,” Aishlinn said, trying to keep her voice calm.
Bree and Ellen exchanged puzzled glances. “Aishlinn?” Bree said, “Why are ye not goin’ to him?”
“I don’t want to appear too anxious to see him.” She finally smiled at the two girls. “I’ll go to see him, but when I’m ready, not merely because he says come woman!” she explained. “Tis not always a bad idea, ladies, to make a man wait on occasion.” She wondered how she knew such a thing. Perhaps it was some more of her natural instincts that were kicking in.
Bree and Ellen were stunned at Aishlinn’s reticence. “If it were me,” Ellen said, “and twere me affections Duncan wanted, I’d not make him wait!” she giggled. “I’d have flown to meet him!”
As much as Aishlinn wished she could have sprouted wings and flown as Ellen suggested, she also did not want to appear that she was too ready and willing to drop everything to be at his beck and call. It was nearly all she could do to keep her feet firmly planted and not go rushing to meet him. Aishlinn knew that by making him wait, just a few moments longer, his want of her would grow even more intense and make the kisses even more passionate.
When she felt sufficient time had passed, she finally closed her books. She bid Bree and Ellen a good day and left them giggling in the study room.
She had to will her feet to move at a steady and deliberate pace. Had she not, she would have run at a great speed and it would not do to go to him covered in sweat and out of breath. As she walked toward the stables she could see him pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair. He appeared more frustrated than she had anticipated and she suddenly felt guilty for making him wait.
He looked up to see her coming towards him and a scowl came to his face. “Aishlinn!” he shouted causing her to walk just a bit faster. “Where have ya been? I sent the message long ago! Did ye no’ read it?”
“I received it and it was written in the Gaelic. I did not know all the words, Laird McEwan. Bree had to read it to me.” She could not understand why he was angry with her for she had only made him wait but a few minutes.
God’s teeth he hated it when she called him Laird McEwan. He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.
“When I summon ye, it is very important that ye come to me immediately, Aishlinn.” He would be made chief one day and it would not do for him to appear weak by being made to wait by his wife, if only for a few minutes.
She raised an eyebrow. “Summon me? That isn’t the way your message to me read, Laird McEwan. It professed that you missed me and wished to see me as soon as possible. Had I known it was official business that you summoned me for, I would have come straight away.”
His scowl deepened as his voice began to take on a note of anger. “So if I summon ya, ya shall hurry. But if it be a romantic moment alone with ye that I want, ya make me to wait?”
She cupped her hands in front of her. “Perhaps, Laird McEwan, you would like me to follow you around like a pup, waiting for your commands to retrieve for you? Or perhaps like a concubine, to be there to serve your needs whenever they arise?” Outwardly she remained calm, or at least hoped for the appearance of it. Inside she was frightened as well as angry with him.
He saw the flame of anger rise in those deep green eyes of hers, “That is no’ what I meant, Aishlinn.”
He came and towered over her. “I have many duties to tend to and my time is no’ my own to do with whatever I please.” It was true that he had only but a little while to spend with her. Could she not see or understand that any free moment he had he wished only to spend it with her?
“I do apologize most sincerely, Laird McEwan.” There was coolness to her voice as the flame of anger intensified. “So which is it you want me to be this day? Pup or concubine?” She would not shrink, would not cower and would not bend to him. “Is there something you wish me to fetch for you? Or should I lift my skirts and let you take me here and now, m’laird?”
It wasn’t just anger he saw in her eyes, there was hurt there as well. He’d been yelling at her as though she were a possession or one of his men, not the woman that he loved with every fiber of his being. “Did ye make me wait fer ya on purpose?” he asked.
“Aye, I did. But only for a few minutes.”
“Why?” he asked as the scowl began to soften.
She swallowed hard, not wanting to admit why. “Because I am not a pup nor a concubine nor one of your soldiers nor your mistress.” She looked into those piercing blue eyes and truly wanted nothing more than to have him kiss her, but she would not admit to it.
He sensed there was more. “And?”
She took a deep breath. “Sometimes the kisses are better when you are made to wait a moment longer to receive them.”
She worried that he would become so incensed with her that he would be done with her, would send her away, either to her room or from the clan altogether.
But he didn’t. With no warning he pulled her to him and began to kiss her hard on the mouth, his tongue forcing her lips open as he wickedly searched for hers. As much as she wished to not respond she could not help it. Grabbing his shoulders she pulled him closer as his hands held her waist with a firm grip and she felt his excitement growing against her. The passion was so intense in the kiss that she would have stripped herself bare had he asked her.
As she melted into him, her body weak, her heart pounding, she knew she wanted to be with him for all their days. She wanted to know what it would be like to lay with him each night, and to feel his hands upon her bare skin.
As quickly as the kiss began, it ended when he pulled away from her. A wry smile had come to his face as she stood trying to catch her breath. “Is that what ya meant by better, lass?”
The slightest breeze could have knocked her over as she stood with quaking knees and shuddering body. “Aye,” she said breathlessly, wishing he would kiss her that way again and damning herself for wanting him to.
“Well then, I shall no’ be so angry with ye the next time ya make me to wait.”
Twe
nty-Two
God’s bones, this woman was going to drive him completely mad! “Because I said nay,” he gritted, arms crossed over his chest. “And I’ll hear no more of it.”
Aishlinn was standing before him with her hands on her hips and a fierce look of determination set in her eyes. Over the past days she had changed. It wasn’t necessarily a new Aishlinn that stood before him. This was the Aishlinn he had been determined to set free, the one he had been sure had laid hidden just under the surface by the many years of abuse and harsh treatment. A small voice inside his head told him he had gotten what he had wished for and he had no one to blame but himself.
It seemed to Duncan that the more kisses he bestowed upon her, the stronger and more determined she became. He was wondering if perhaps he should not hold back on the kisses for a bit. But as he looked at her now with the fire in her eyes and the willful determination to have him hear her out, he knew he could not. She looked absolutely beautiful in the early morning light with the sun casting streaks of red through her hair. He was angrier with himself more than he was with her. ‘Twas all he could do not to drag her across the field to the trees and ravish every inch of her body.
“Laird McEwan” she said, trying to hold her anger in. “Would you prefer then, that when we are ever attacked in the future, that the woman go screaming about in a panic, unable to defend themselves?”
“The women can defend themselves, Aishlinn and they be quite good at it.”
He was beginning to miss the days when all he had to do was scowl at her in order to tame her temper. As far as the women she spoke of, they were good with knives. And there were a few he would put his money on in any wager against any man in either contest or battle.
“Aye, but with knives and pots and pans and nothing more. If you would but at least allow them to learn to use a bow--”
Laiden's Daughter Page 23
