Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  “I’m sorry. I was misinformed.”

  “Is that why you came bursting in here? Because you thought I was ill?” she asked him.

  “Aye, I did.” He was trying to steady his breathing as well as his anger at Bree for lying to him.

  Aishlinn studied him for a brief moment before she pursed her lips together and put her fists on her hips. God, how he had missed her, had missed that fire in her eyes. She shook her head and turned away from him and mumbled something under her breath.

  “What was that, lass?”

  “I said, a lot you care!” she shot at him from over her shoulder. She couldn’t look at him at the moment and kept her eyes glued to the land outside her windows. If she looked at him now, he might see the heartbreak hidden beneath her anger. She’d not give him that satisfaction.

  “But I do care.” More than she knew.

  “Is that why,” she said, finally turning to look at him, “you have avoided me at all costs for the past sennight? Is it because you care that you turn and run the other way when you see me? Is it because you care that you do not even say ‘good day’ to me?” She was angry and not afraid to let him know it.

  “I’ve have been busy with me duties and responsibilities.” He was flustered and knew the conversation they were about to have would not end well for him.

  “Well then, I would not want to keep you from all those important duties and responsibilities. With whom do I speak, Laird McEwan, about making an appointment with you? There is something important I wish to discuss with you,” she seethed. Duncan was certain he detected a bit of hurt to her voice. “At your convenience Laird McEwan,” she said as she curtsied elegantly before him.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her. Normally that would have been enough to cause her to back down from him. This day it did not work for she stood resolutely before him determined to hold her ground. “I have time now. What is it you wish to speak to me about?” he asked.

  Cupping her hands together, she stood her ground as firmly as she could. “I wish to leave the comforts of your castle.” In all reality it was the last thing she wanted to do, but Duncan had left her no choice.

  She could have stripped herself naked and begun flying about the room and he would not have been nearly as shocked as he was at the news that she wished to leave.

  “What? Leave here? Why? Where will ye go?” He did not like the idea of her leaving and he would not allow it.

  “I do not know. I am told I might be able to acquire a position as a scullery maid at another castle with another clan. I have worn out my welcome with you, therefore I wish to leave.”

  “Who told ye that ye’ve worn out yer welcome with me?” he demanded. He would knock the fool right on his arse for spreading such lies.

  She cocked her head slightly and looked at him as if he were daft. “You.”

  “Me?” he asked quite dumbfounded before the truth of the matter dawned in his rather thick skull. It wasn’t what he had said; it was what he had done.

  He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm himself. “Ya’ve no’ worn out yer welcome here. I’m quite glad to have ye here, Aishlinn, and I’ll no’ allow ye to leave.”

  If she could have picked up something and thrown it at him she would have. At the moment she was far too stunned and far too angry to do anything but stand with her mouth agape. “What do you mean you’ll not allow me to leave? Am I your prisoner?”

  Perhaps he could have chosen a better way to put it but it was too late now. “Nay, yer no’ my prisoner, yer me guest, and ye’ll remain my guest until Angus returns. Now I’ll hear no more of ye leavin’.” He started to walk away but she stopped him.

  “Pardon me, m’laird, but if this is how you treat your guests, then I’d prefer not to have that privilege thrust upon me. I wish to leave.”

  If he had to put her in shackles and throw her in the oubliette to keep her from leaving, he would. “Nay. Ye’ll no’ be leavin’.”

  Aishlinn took a very deep breath in through her nose and counted to ten before letting it out very slowly. It was all she could do to keep from throwing the chair at him. “Then I’m your prisoner, and not your guest.”

  “Nay, yer me guest.”

  Aishlinn held up her hand to stop him for it was getting all too ridiculous. “No matter what you prefer to call me, m’laird, the fact is I want to leave and you say you’ll not allow it!” She was growing increasingly frustrated with him. “I would like to know why.”

  “Why what?” he asked. He’d been momentarily distracted by the way the sunlight that streamed in through the window glanced off her lovely golden hair.

  Were all men this daft, she wondered? “Why will you not allow me to leave?” she demanded to know.

  He had been in more battles than he could count and he had the scars on his body to prove it. He had been with many women, most whose names he could not remember. He had traveled far and wide, and had seen things that most people never knew existed. He had scaled tall mountains, sailed across the ocean during a storm that had nearly taken his life and had even survived hand-to-claw battle with a cat o’mountain that had wanted to eat him for a midday meal. He had braved it all, relished in the glory and excitement that was his life. But somehow, he could not muster the courage to tell this slip of a girl the truth.

  Warriors were trained to never succumb to desperation. If you were distracted or too flustered, you could lose your life. It was vitally important to stay focused at all times. If you kept your focus and your wits about you, chances were you could survive any battle. The same however, could not be said for love.

  “What kind of brother would I be if I let ye leave, to just wander the countryside trying to find a new home? I swore me allegiance to ye, Aishlinn.” For the first time in his life, Duncan had succumbed to desperation. He had blurted his answer and could only pray it would work. He simply could not tell her how he felt, at least not yet. He wasn’t sure himself just what all these feelings were that were bouncing around inside his heart and interfering with the logical part of his mind.

  “Then why,” she asked, her voice soft and low, “do you ignore me? Have I done something to offend you?” She had been trying to figure out for days now, just what she had done to make him avoid her.

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Nay. Ye’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve been busy.” It wasn’t an out and out lie. “And, I was tryin’ to give ye room to find yer own way, to make new friends.”

  “I do not understand. Can I not make friends and have you for one as well?” she asked. “Or am I allotted only so many?”

  His scowl softened as he chuckled. “Nay,” he said knowing full well she could have as many female friends as she wanted. ’Twas the men that bothered him.

  “Aishlinn, I am sincerely sorry that I hurt yer feelings. I’m a daft fool of a man and I beg ye forgive me for it.”

  It was quite difficult for her to stay angry with him -- she felt so beholden to him for all he had done for her. He did appear sincere and perhaps he had been quite busy with his duties. She searched his face and felt he told her the truth.

  “I’ll forgive you, Duncan. I know you are a very busy man and I’ll not take up anymore of your time. But,” she said, hoping that she might not sound weak or foolish when she asked her next question.

  “But what, lass?”

  “But could you, at least on occasion when you see me, could you not run in the other direction?” She could not admit that the first time he had done that it had nearly ripped her heart from her chest. She had to bite her tongue to keep from crying over it now.

  The hurt in her voice brought a tremendous amount of guilt to his stomach. Though his intentions had been to protect her, he had in fact, ended up hurting her. “I do so promise.” He thought about taking her in his arms then, and kissing her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Holding himself in, he righted his shoulders and bowed to her. He had to leave the room before he did just t
hat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Though it was rather difficult for Duncan to hold his tongue and say nothing of his feelings for Aishlinn, he did make a concentrated effort to spend more time with her. It was both a pleasure and an agony to be so near her and not touch or kiss her. But if having some of his time meant that much to her, ’twas the least he could do.

  Aishlinn had finally convinced Isobel to allow her to work in order to earn her keep. Though Isobel would have chosen more refined duties, she had relented and allowed Aishlinn to help in the kitchens. It was a job that brought great joy to Aishlinn’s heart, but none to Isobel’s. The only condition put upon the agreement was that she could work only in the mornings. Isobel did not want to risk the young woman overdoing it to the point of exhaustion. When Aishlinn had asked to move from the room next to Duncan’s, and into the solar with the other non-married women, Isobel had adamantly refused.

  Aishlinn enjoyed working among the other clansmen and women because it afforded her the opportunity make friends and a chance to learn the Gaelic. She found it difficult to roll her r’s but refused to give up. Within a few days however she was picking up a few useful phrases and words.

  She would often see Rowan and Findley about the castle grounds. She thought them both fine men and was glad to have them for her foster brothers. They made Aishlinn feel quite welcome and on a few occasions, they had even helped with bringing in supplies and stocking the larders.

  Manghus was staying close to his own cottage because his wife was due to have their first bairn and he wanted not to be far from her. On occasion Gowan would bring his daughters to the castle when he had business to discuss with Duncan. Aishlinn would volunteer to keep the four little girls company while the men discussed whatever it was that men of their ilk were fond of discussing. Aishlinn truly enjoyed the time she was able to spend with the little girls, for it was the closest thing to having her own children that she would ever get.

  Nearly every day she would see Black Richard, Tall Thomas, Daniel and Wee William. When they weren’t practicing, they could often be found huddled together in some deep, manly sort of conversation. Black Richard appeared to be more refined and better educated than the other men he referred to as the best of his friends, but still, he was just as fierce as the rest of them.

  There were many times when Aishlinn would find a dozen children surrounding Wee William, clamoring for his attention or a ride upon his back. The man looked positively silly as he walked across the grounds with a child clinging to each leg and an arm while another rode on his back. The little ones would squeal with delight as they rode along on the gentle giant or when he would chase after them pretending to be a ferocious monster.

  Duncan would escort Aishlinn and Bree to dinner each night but he would encourage them to sit with those lads and lasses closer to their own ages. Aishlinn conceded, although she would have preferred to have her meals with Duncan and his men. While she was making new friends, and gaining more brothers than she knew what to do with, she still found herself daydreaming of Duncan.

  Often times when her work in the kitchens was complete, she would sneak away to help the other young women clean various rooms of the castle. Although she knew Isobel would be displeased with her if she learned she was doing far more than working in the kitchens, Aishlinn was not one to sit about with idle hands.

  On one particularly splendid afternoon, Aishlinn went outside to catch a bit of fresh air and to see if anyone wanted help tending the gardens. Having found she was not needed she decided to enjoy a walk around the castle grounds. They seemed to stretch on forever with all the hills and small glens. There were large stables and barns as well as little cottages scattered here and there. Just to the west of the castle, the tiny village seemed to be undergoing an expansion and its residents were in the process of building a kirk.

  She stood at the crest of a hill and watched a group of children playing on the training field. They were pretending to be fierce warriors and play fought with sticks. The sight of them made her heart ache for bairns and a family of her own.

  She had been watching them for a while when Black Richard approached her. He wore dark trews and a blue tunic and looked rather handsome with his black hair waving in the breeze.

  “Good day, Aishlinn!” he said with a smile upon his face. “Yer looking well this day.”

  “Tapadh leat,” she thanked him in Gaelic, quite pleased with her use of the language.

  He returned with “Se do bheatha,” raising a brow, impressed with her Gaelic.

  Aishlinn smiled and returned to the English. “I’m afraid I don’t know enough yet to hold a conversation, Black Richard.”

  “’Tis all right lass. Ye be catchin’ on quite well!”

  He bent and plucked a long blade of grass from the ground. “How are ye liking Castle Gregor thus far?” he asked.

  Her face beamed. “Oh, I like it very much! ’Tis a grand place and everyone has been so kind to me.”

  “Aye, we are a kind lot of people!” Black Richard chuckled. He rubbed the piece of grass between his fingers as he looked off into the distance. “Are ye making many friends as well?”

  “Aye, I am,” she answered. “Everyone has been go kind. And I’ve got more brothers now than I know what to do with!”

  He turned to her, looking rather puzzled. “What do ye mean, lass?”

  Smiling, she told him, “When I mentioned Duncan, Rowan, Gowan and the others were my brothers, the other lads and men asked could they be as well.” She smiled at him innocently. “I grew up with three brothers who were not at all kind to me. Growing up I wished for kinder brothers and now I have so many!”

  Richard tried not to laugh at her. He knew the lads here were enamored with Aishlinn. “Are ye sure of that, lass?”

  Confused, she asked, “Sure of what?”

  “Are ye sure they no’ be wantin’ to be more than just brothers to ye?”

  She was shocked at such a notion. “Nay!” she said. Silly man she thought to herself. Perhaps he had become over-heated during his sparring and he wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Why ye be thinkin’ that, lass?”

  She smiled at him as if he were a fool. “I am a plain woman, Richard. The lads are after Bree’s affections that way, not mine!”

  He turned and looked at her with a most serious expression. “Aishlinn, ye no’ be plain.”

  She studied him for a moment. First Duncan, then the others and now Black Richard. While she appreciated their kind intentions she believed not one of them. Shaking her head she said, “’Tis kind of you to say that Black Richard. But ye needn’t do so.” She was trying not to be rude. She simply knew better.

  Black Richard took in a deep breath of air before letting it out slowly. “Aishlinn, I be tellin’ the truth. Ye be not plain. Ye be a fine, beautiful woman.”

  Aishlinn was taken aback and felt her skin blush. These Highlanders certainly were fond of saying whatever was on their minds. “Richard, please do not say that which isn’t true!”

  “I speak no lies, lass,” he said softly. She truly did not know just how beautiful she was.

  Aishlinn wished he would simply go away. “Nay. Isobel and Bree are beautiful, Black Richard, not I.” She could feel her face growing redder and she had to look away from him. “I am plain.”

  With a raised brow and look of curiosity to his face, he asked, “Now, who here has told ye that lass?”

  Aishlinn thought about it for a long moment and could think of not one person here who had said anything even vaguely unkind to her. “Well, none here have.” The people here were far too kind to say otherwise.

  “Then who be tellin’ ye yer plain?” he asked. Aishlinn remained quiet as she stared at the ground. She was growing more uncomfortable with the conversation and wondered if he would think her daft if she suddenly turned and ran away from him.

  “Would it be the brothers ye spoke of? Them that was no’ kind to ye? Them that mistreated ye?” he ask
ed.

  Aishlinn shot him a scathing look that, had he known her better, would have told him that he was walking in unsafe territory. She chose not to respond to his question. She barely knew this man. And although she was certain he was merely trying to be kind to her, she felt his questions a little too personal.

  “’Twas them then,” he said quietly. “Now, may I ask why ye’d be wantin’ to believe mean and unkind brothers who mistreated ye? Do ye no’ think, lass, that ’twas them that no’ be tellin’ ye the truth? ’Twas them that lied to ye when they said ye be plain?”

  Honestly, the thought had never entered her mind. All that she had ever heard from her brothers, as well as her father, was that she was plain and ugly. No man could or would ever want her. She would never be as beautiful as her mum. How many times had they told her such things? Now she was here, living in a most grand castle surrounded by good and kind people; decent people who had gone out of their way to make her feel welcomed and safe.

  Black Richard could tell she was thinking hard on what he said. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head. “Lass, I be thinkin’ that a thousand men could come to ye and tell ye yer beautiful and ye’d no’ be believin’ a one of ’em!”

  She studied him more closely and wondered if she could trust him. Perhaps he was one of those men who said sweet and romantic things to a woman in order to obtain what he wanted. It was the only plausible explanation she could come up with at the moment. And why he would want such things from her she could not understand. She would ask Duncan of it later.

  “Aishlinn,” Black Richard said with a most sweet and sincere smile. “Would ye do me the most profound honor and allow me to escort ye to the evenin’ meal this night?”

  She had no idea how to interpret his invitation. Did he mean it in a brotherly fashion or did he have something else upon his mind? Brotherly attentions she could deal with. Anything other than that and she would simply not know what to do.