* * *
In those rare moments when she was awake, she would listen to the men as they spoke in their native Gaelic. Aishlinn felt the language had a rough and powerful quality to it and somehow it made her feel closer to her mother. She wished she had been blessed with learning it, but where she grew up people were not allowed to use anything but the English. The king’s edict had been passed not long after Aishlinn had been born. Its simple goal was to squash anything Scottish. Whether it was their language, customs or traditions he’d not allow the lowlanders any of it. They were now part of England and English they were expected to behave.
They did camp that night, but not for long for they had lost two days by seeking shelter at Aric’s home. After only a few hours of sleep, Duncan gently nudged her awake. It startled her and she let out a slight squeal. “Haud yer wheesht!” Duncan whispered and smiled as he helped her to her feet. He debated whether he should carry her or allow her to walk on her own. He watched her closely for a moment and when he saw she did not teeter to the point of falling, he decided the latter.
As they walked in the dark, Duncan at the ready should she need his assistance, Aishlinn whispered to him. “Thank you for allowing me to walk.” Although she would never admit to it, she rather liked being carried by the tall Highlander. Duncan noted a tinge of pride in her voice and he was about to whisper “you’re welcome” when she tripped on a rock and nearly fell flat on her face. He caught hold of the back of her tunic, and pulled her upright. Letting out a heavy sigh, he scooped her up and carried her to the horses.
Aishlinn bit her lower lip to keep from protesting, although she was quite glad to have him hold her. Eejit! She thought of herself. Men like him do not care for lasses like you. Quit acting a fool.
Rowan bid her good morning in English when Duncan handed her to him. He mounted his horse and readied the plaids. Still embarrassed over tripping and wanting to impress the men with the fact that she was learning some of their Gaelic words, she smiled sweetly, and with a good deal of pride said to Rowan, “Haud yer wheesht!” The men remained quite still for a moment before Duncan burst out laughing. Aishlinn face burned crimson. “Did I not say it correctly?” she asked him as Rowan handed her up.
“Nay,” Duncan laughed as he set her upon his lap. “Ye said it correctly, lass.”
“Then why are you all laughing?” she asked, rather puzzled. “I merely bid him good morning in your own language.” She could feel Duncan shake with laughter.
“Nay, ye didn’t, lassie.” Duncan said shaking his head as he tapped the horse’s belly.
“Does haud yer wheesht not mean good morning?” Confusion and embarrassment began to flood over her.
“Nay lass, it does no’.”
Aishlinn waited impatiently for an explanation. When she saw none was forthcoming she said, “But you’ve said it to me each time you wake me.” She was quite confused and growing more perturbed the more they laughed.
“Aye, I have,” he said. “But only because when I wake ye, ye let out a bit of a scream.”
She had not realized it and she felt humiliated.
“Ya were scarin’ poor Rowan with it!” Duncan’s laughter was building up again.
She folded her arms across her chest and huffed. They may have saved her life, but they could be as rude as the day was long when they wanted to be.
Biting his lip to help squelch his laughter, Duncan explained it. “In yer English it means for ye to be quiet, to hold yer tongue.”
If there was something beyond embarrassment she most assuredly felt it. She wanted to jump from the horse and hide somewhere until the feeling went away. She supposed she would only need a fortnight or two. She felt an apology to Rowan was in order, in spite of the fact they were all having a grand time at her expense. “I am sorry, Rowan,” she murmured.
Manghus said, “No worries there, lass. We’ve been tellin’ him that for years!” The men burst into another fit of laughter and she decided then that she would not try to speak their language again. And if they didn’t stop laughing, she might not speak to them again in any language.
Chapter Ten
They had ridden through a dense forest for several hours before spilling out onto what could only be described as the most beautiful glen Aishlinn had ever seen. Majestic mountains rose before them as they crossed a very wide meandering stream. Rich, lush grass, interspersed with all manner of flowers, blanketed the hilly landscape. Sheep could be heard in the distance and sounded as though they were answering to the calls of the birds and insects that chattered all around them.
As Duncan led the way towards the mountains, an overwhelming sense of awe flooded over Aishlinn, before the dread set in. If the English ever found her, she hoped they would be merciful and kill her swiftly so that she might be buried on this land. Dead or alive, she never wanted to leave.
“Is it no’ as beautiful as we told ye lass?” Duncan asked.
“Nay,” she smiled. “It is even more so.”
Picking up the pace, they rode in silence for a long while as they headed west. Aishlinn could not shake the fear that was building in her stomach. Fearful that if the English did find her she would be forced to leave. And if they didn’t, what kind of life was in store for her? Would she find her family? And if she did, would they accept her as one of their own? There were too many unanswered questions rolling around in her head, making her feel uneasy and frightened.
Unable to hold in all the questions she had, she looked up at Duncan. “Are you sure Duncan, that your chief will not care that you’ve brought me with you?”
“Now lass, we’ve told ye before he’ll no’ mind.” He could understand her worry and could not fault her for it.
He studied her face more closely. The swelling had gone done a good amount, but still had far to go. He found himself looking forward to seeing what her face would look like without the welts and bruises.
“Do you think Duncan,” Aishlinn said as she looked out at the land before them, “that if we can’t find my own people, that your chief would allow me to stay with yours?”
“Aye, I do.” He had no doubt of that. Angus was a good man and he’d not turn someone away who needed help. And if anyone needed help it was this young lass.
Aishlinn’s brow furrowed as her mind raced. She wasn’t really listening to him as she chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m a good worker. Perhaps he’d allow me to stay if I promised to work hard. I can do many things. I could tend the animals or work in the kitchens. I could even work the fields.” Her voice trailed off as she thought of all the things she was quite capable of doing.
“Do you suppose he’d allow me to stay if I promised to do those things?” she glanced up at him, looking for reassurance.
“Nay,” he told her.
Her eyes grew wide with apprehension. “But you just said he would let me stay.”
“Aye, I did.” He was being playful with her.
“But-” she began before he cut her off.
“I said he’d let ye stay, Aishlinn. But he’ll no’ be putting ye to work in the fields. Mayhap the kitchens, but no’ the fields, or with the animals, or building things.” He let the words sink in for a moment. “He’ll let ye stay Aishlinn, that I promise. But no one will be expecting ye to work like a man.”
Her first instinct was to protest. Why on earth were these men so insistent that there were certain things that only a man could do? She thought about it for a moment and then realized perhaps it wasn’t that only a man could do them, but that he should do them.
Her mind went back to the night with the earl. He had told her that she had to bed him as payment for him allowing her to live and work in his castle. The earl expected it from all the women who lived there. It was payment for the enjoyment they had in living such a fine life behind his castle walls. If one could call working from sun up to sun down for no coin and a thin pallet upon the floor an enjoyment or a fine life. Fear began to rise in her at the possibility that Dunc
an’s chief might expect the same things from her.
Very quietly she asked, “Duncan? Will your chief be expecting certain things from me?” She was afraid of what his answer might be.
Duncan smiled, knowing full well what she meant but deciding to be mischievous about it. “Aye, lass, I’m afraid he will.”
He felt her shrink with dread the moment the words left his mouth. He had expected she’d protest and become angry, but instead tears welled and he immediately regretted toying with her. Mayhap there were some things that a man should not jest about. “Lass, ’tis no’ what ye think.”
She looked up at him and the tears intensified the dark green of her eyes. He felt like a toad and told himself he would never do that to her again. He would not jest of such things and he would never bring tears to her eyes.
“He’ll only be asking for yer respect and honesty and nothing more.” He wasn’t sure if she believed him and his guilt grew with each tear that fell down her cheek.
“The chief be a happily married man.” He hoped that knowledge might quell the fear he was now certain filled her heart.
“I promise lass. I’d no’ let another man do to ye what the earl did.” He searched her eyes for some sort of acknowledgement to his promise. “I’d kill any man who tried.”
Aishlinn did not know at first that Duncan had been toying with her. But when she looked into his face she could see the sincere guilt he had felt. When he looked into her eyes, and promised he’d never allow anyone to hurt her again, she knew he spoke the truth.
She felt thankful and relieved to know that someone cared enough to keep her safe. She knew it be a common, brotherly sort of promise he had made her and nothing more than that. But she was glad for it all the same.
* * *
None of them slept well that night as they camped hidden in a very small grotto at the base of the mountain. They had built a fire, but it did nothing to help warm Aishlinn’s aching and tired bones. The cave was damp and frigid. Mists of gray formed with each breath they took. No matter how many plaids she had upon her, the cold from the damp floor wicked up through her skin and caused her teeth to chatter. When Duncan woke her a few hours later, he had a look of great worry upon his face. “Have ye a fever, lass?” he asked as he placed his hand upon her forehead. Her skin was cold and clammy.
“Nay,” she told him through chattering teeth. “The ground is so cold.”
Duncan immediately scooped her up and carried her to where his men waited. ’Twas Manghus he handed her to today while he mounted his horse. Once Duncan had her upon his lap, he wrapped two plaids and a blanket around her shivering body. “It won’t be long now Aishlinn, and we’ll have ye a warm bath and a soft bed.” She fell asleep almost immediately, glad again for his warm chest and arms.
They rode hard and fast. Duncan’s only concern was getting Aishlinn to the safety of his people and the castle walls. The sun was high to the west when they made their way through the valley that opened up to the land belonging to Clan MacDougall. Aishlinn woke when she felt the horses come to a stop at the top of a large hill.
The grandeur of Castle Gregor was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. An enormous thick wall made from large gray stones that seemed to stretch on forever surrounded the keep. Within that was another equally imposing wall of stone that encircled the immense castle, its stables, courtyards and various small buildings. Five square towers stretched tall above the four-story castle. It all lay sprawled near a very large loch that glistened gold in the afternoon sun. The sight was as beautiful as it was imposing.
Numerous cottages spread throughout the rolling lands as light smoke billowed from their chimneys. Heather and gorse dotted the land and grew thicker as it traveled up the mountainside, seeming to fight for space among the trees. Tears came to her eyes as she looked upon the majesty of it all.
Excited to be home, Duncan gave her a slight hug. The gesture, she was certain, meant nothing to him, but it sent another curious shiver up her spine when he had hugged her. She was not used to being hugged by anyone, let alone a man. She shook the feeling aside and convinced herself that he was simply glad to be home.
The men let out loud cries that announced their return. Aishlinn held on tightly to Duncan as their small group raced down the hillside and in through the wooden gates that had been thrown open. They came to a stop on the west side of the castle and within moments they were surrounded by dozens of very happy people. Shouts of glee went up through the crowd and although she could not understand the language they spoke, their smiles and cheerful faces told her they were glad for the return of their men.
Duncan leapt from his horse and was immediately pounced upon by children and people of all ages. They were drowned in a flood of hugs, kisses and pats on their backs. Aishlinn remained on the horse, smiling nervously at the sight before her.
After allowing his people time to welcome him home, Duncan turned to Aishlinn with a broad and beaming smile. He reached up, grabbed her by her waist and carefully lifted her down. But instead of immediately placing her upon the ground, he held her for a very long moment as he looked into her eyes. The sunlight glinted off his chestnut colored hair and beard and she thought he looked quite handsome. If the strange feeling in her stomach did not cease and desist immediately she thought she might faint. Still holding her, a curious smile had formed on his face before he spoke. “Welcome home, Aishlinn.”
Home. ’Twas a simple word that held so much meaning and heart to it. The sound of his voice when he said it, with such genuine tenderness, brought tears to her eyes. Could she really be home?
Duncan decided he rather enjoyed holding her and chose not put her down. He liked the way she felt in his arms when he held her. Within moments they were swept away into the sea of excited people who shouted at them. Who be the lass? Why is she wearing trews? What is her name? Is she yer bride? Duncan understood the questions but would not answer them now for he had to get Aishlinn into the castle so that she could be tended to.
Manghus bid them good day, wanting very much to return to his wife. Rowan led Duncan around the castle to the doors of the kitchen. He threw open the heavy wooden door as Duncan whisked her inside. They stood in a very large kitchen that was alive with all manner of people who had stopped to see what the commotion was about.
A rather stout and auld woman let out a gasp when she saw the lass in Duncan’s arms. Wiping her hands upon her apron, she walked quickly to them. “Duncan McEwan! What happened to her and why be she wearin’ yer trews and tunic?”
Although the woman spoke in the Gaelic, the look on her face said enough; she looked a frightful mess! Duncan told the auld woman that Aishlinn spoke no Gaelic and to please if she could, use the English.
“Ye be English?” The auld woman asked, looking quite horrified. Rowan chuckled and shook his head. “Nay!” he told her.
“She be a fine Highlander!” Duncan said. He bent low and spoke in a hushed tone so that only the auld woman could hear. “She be an orphan, raised in the lowlands, no’ blessed with being raised to ken her own language.” He shook his head as if terribly saddened by it. “’Tis a sad story indeed Mary. One I hope to one day share with ye. But for now, could we no’ have a hot bath for the poor lass?”
Mary studied Aishlinn, her face holding a sad and pitiful expression. “Ya poor thing!” Shaking her head she began racing about with the speed and command of someone half her age. She grabbed a young boy and told him to fetch someone named Bree. She told another to grab more young lads and tote tubs upstairs. While she belted out orders and rushed about the kitchen, Duncan looked at Aishlinn with a smile upon his face.
“Aishlinn, that be our Mary. She be in charge of the kitchens. And anything else she’s a mind to take over!”
The auld woman stopped and gave him a stern look. “I’ll have none of yer lip this day lad! Just because ye be a man now does no’ mean I can’t still give ye a skelpin’!”
Duncan laughed at her, befo
re he turned to look at Aishlinn. “Mary helped to raise me. She’s probably the only woman in the world I be truly afraid of!” Aishlinn turned her lips inward to keep from giggling. The thought of Duncan afraid of anyone, let alone this sweet auld woman was laughable.
“Well don’t stand there like an eejit!” Mary scolded him. “Take the lass up to Bridget’s auld room. I’ll have baths and a hot meal ready shortly.”
Duncan gave Mary a wink before he raced from the kitchens and carried Aishlinn up three flights of stairs.
Rowan led the way to a bedroom at the end of a very large open hallway and opened the door for them to enter. The room was large and well lit by two very tall windows. A large fireplace stood to their right while a beautiful bed sat to their left. The bed was adorned with luxurious looking blankets and pillows and a large wooden trunk sat at the foot of it.
A small table that held a brush, combs, and tiny glass bottles rested between the tall windows. Ornate tapestries hung on the walls and thick rugs lay upon the floor. Aishlinn had never seen such a beautiful room before.
“Duncan could you please put me down now?” she whispered. “I am feeling better and I see no rocks on which I could trip.”
Duncan carefully set her down and stayed near in case she was not as well as she said. “This’ll be yer room, lass,” he smiled at her.
“Who else stays here?” she whispered. She was wondering who her roommates might be and would they mind sharing their room with her.
“None. Ye’ll have it all to yerself,” he replied.
There was no hiding her surprise. She had never had a room all to her own before.
“Be there a problem lass?” Duncan asked.
“Nay,” she told him breathlessly. “It’s a grand room.” Inwardly, she thought, far too grand for someone such as me.
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 9
