“Please promise me, Duncan, that ye’ll give Aishlinn more time. She’s been through a hellish ordeal. She knows no’ who she is or what she wants from life.” Lowering her voice she asked, “Promise me ye’ll give her that?”
“Aye, I so promise.” It was what he had been trying to do all along.
* * *
Isobel took a moment to regain her composure before she entered Aishlinn’s room. She found Aishlinn standing near the open windows with a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders and she looked positively miserable.
Isobel quietly closed the door and sat on the stool near the fireplace. She had been angrier with Duncan than she had been with Aishlinn, for she understood far too well how being in love with someone often interfered with one’s good decision making abilities. Aishlinn had grown up without a mother and Isobel was certain that Broc had offered very little in the way of guidance when it came to matters of the heart.
“Come here lass,” she said, holding her arms open wide.
Aishlinn rushed to Isobel’s open arms and sank to her knees. She could not hold back the deluge of tears as she rested her head upon Isobel’s lap. The thought of Isobel being angry with her was unbearably painful as well as frightening. She would never want to do anything that would cause Isobel to send her away.
“Duncan did nothing wrong, Isobel!” No matter how much she wished that he had. She sobbed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands.
Isobel smiled as she stroked Aishlinn’s hair. “’Tis all right, lass. I spoke with Duncan and I am sorry for flyin’ into such a fierce rage. I have only yer best interests in my heart.”
Och! How she wished she could share with her the reasons why she felt so protective. Isobel wondered if she wouldn’t lose her mind before Angus returned.
Remaining silent, save for the tears and sniffles, Aishlinn closed her eyes. If her mother had lived, how completely different her life might have been. She would not feel so lost and confused right now and her heart, she was sure, would not be breaking.
“Why dinna ye tell me of the bad dreams, Aishlinn?” Isobel asked quietly.
“I wanted not to bother you. You have so many duties and responsibilities,” Aishlinn said. “My problems aren’t as important as others.”
Isobel lifted Aishlinn’s chin and looked into her eyes. “But Aishlinn, yer not a problem or a bother. Yer very important to me, lass.” For a fleeting moment she was quite tempted to tell her why.
“I am?” she asked very surprised to hear it.
“Aye, ye are!” Isobel said.
Aishlinn could not fathom it. “But how? I’ve only been here a short time.”
A warm smile came to Isobel’s face. “Does a mother need years to know her children in order to love them?” She wiped tears away from Aishlinn’s face. “Nay, she loves them the moment they are born or come to her. I loved Duncan, Findley and Richard from the day they came to live with us. I needed not days or months or years to know them. They were lads who had lost their families, just as ye’ve lost yers. They were good lads who needed to be loved and protected.” It had been easy for Isobel to love all the children she and Angus had fostered.
Aishlinn was perplexed. She was not a bairn or a small child. She was nearly a grown woman. Should that not make a difference? It made no sense to her how Isobel could love her so readily and with such ease. “But I be not a bairn nor a child.”
“Nay, yer not. But are ye no’ lost? Are ye no’ orphaned with no family of yer own?”
Indeed, she was.
“It is not difficult for me to love ye as if ye were my own, Aishlinn. Yer a sweet and fine young woman with a good heart and spirit. What is there about ye no’ to love?”
“Why then, could not my family, the people who raised me, love me?” she whispered.
Did it all just boil down to the fact that her stepfather and brothers were just mean and cruel people? She had blamed herself all those years. Had she been prettier or better or worked harder then perhaps someday they would love her. Time and again they proved her wrong.
She realized in that quiet moment with Isobel that it had mattered not what she did, how hard she had worked or tried to please the men who had raised her. It never would have been enough. It would not have changed who they truly were -- mean, selfish, angry men. Black Richard had been right. Why should she believe those who were mean and harsh to her over those who were decent and kindhearted?
“I know no’ why some people are mean and selfish, Aishlinn. I think some just have poisoned hearts and minds. Unfortunately, ye were surrounded by them for too long a time.”
She smoothed Aishlinn’s hair with her hand and thought on how she should broach the next topic at hand. “How long have ye had these strong feelings towards Duncan?”
Aishlinn bolted upright, her face burned crimson. Had her feelings for him been that obvious?
“It matters not what my feelings are for him; he thinks of me only as a sister, nothing more.” No matter how badly she would have liked it to be otherwise, Aishlinn knew there was no possibility of a future with Duncan.
Isobel tilted her head a bit. “Are ye certain of that, Aishlinn?”
“Aye, I am.” The thought of Duncan having any romantic thoughts towards her was as ridiculous as putting trews on a pig. “He truly looks after me as a brother does a sister,” she said. “Why, just yesterday he gave me good advice on men.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Isobel found that notion quite amusing. “And what, pray tell, is this advice he gave to ye?”
“He bade me to promise him that before I agree to allow anyone to court me, I’ll come to him first. He can tell me if they be good and kind men.” She lowered her voice as if to share a well-known secret among women. “And not the kind only after one thing.”
Isobel had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. What a rake her Duncan was turning out to be! Isobel knew it would matter not what kind of man might take a fancy to the young lass, for none would be good enough. She knew that Duncan was very much in love with this sweet young lady. It was merely his way of keeping her from falling in love with someone else.
“Is that not what brothers do for sisters?” Aishlinn asked naively.
“I suppose some do,” Isobel said. But she knew ’twas also something a brash young man would do to keep a young lady he fancied to himself. She decided it best, for the moment at least, to not explain it further to her.
Isobel put her hands upon Aishlinn’s shoulders. “Now, we’ll not worry on the matter any longer,” she said as she stood. “I think it be time to teach ye some of the finer things a lady ought to know.” She studied Aishlinn for a moment. Such a beautiful young woman she was. ’Twas her eyes though, those deep dark green eyes, that Isobel sometimes found painful to look into.
“Do ye ken how to weave, lass?” she asked.
Aishlinn stood and shook her head. “Nay. My mother was very good at it but I never had the chance to learn.”
Isobel swallowed hard at the mention of the lass’ mother. “Would ye like to learn?”
Aishlinn’s eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Oh yes! Very much!”
“Good. I’ll teach ye to weave and to sew properly. Come to my chambers after ye’ve eaten and we’ll start straight away.”
Aishlinn flung her arms around Isobel and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Isobel!” she said as she tried hard not to cry again. What few memories she had left of her mother told her she and Isobel were very much alike. Both were kind, dignified and sweet. She wondered for a moment if it would be disrespectful to her mother’s memory to think of Isobel in that manner, as a mother figure.
* * *
Aishlinn dressed quickly and ran to the kitchens to eat before racing to Isobel’s private chambers. Quite excited to begin to learn to weave, she tapped gently on the door before Isobel opened it. Her chin nearly hit the floor when she entered the room for it was filled nearly top to bottom with books!
Isobel watched Aishlinn closely for a long moment as she watched the young woman’s eyes grow wide with awe.
Aishlinn stood frozen as she soaked it all in. A massive fireplace nearly as big as the one in the gathering room took up most of one wall. A shield with two crossed broadswords hung over the dark mantle. A large trestle table flanked by benches stood in the center of the room. Soft and luxurious rugs were scattered across the floor.
And the books! Hundreds of books sat on heavy wooden shelves tucked into nearly every crook and cranny and dozens more sat atop the table. Aishlinn took no notice of the looms that sat in front of the tall windows, for it was the books that captured her attention and heart.
“Aishlinn, what are ye thinking?” Isobel asked curiously.
“You have books,” she said breathlessly.
“Aye, we do,” Isobel said, realizing the lass could not read. Isobel knew all too well the opinions the English held on educating girls. “Ya dunna read, do ye, lass?” Knowing the answer beforehand.
“Nay!” Aishlinn said, shocked at such a notion. “’Tis considered a blasphemy for a girl to read!”
Disgusted at those people who refused to educate their children, Isobel huffed. “People with power like to keep their people ignorant. They do it only so they may hold more power over them. Heaven forbid a body should have an intelligent, independent thought! Especially a female!”
She was determined to not allow this young woman to be lost any longer. Books would open worlds that Aishlinn could not begin to imagine existed. “We shall rectify that situation at once!” she told Aishlinn. “Ye’ll learn to read and to write and to figure sums. ’Tis quite important for a proper lady to know such things, lass!”
Aishlinn stood aghast at the thought. “But ’tis considered an offense against the church and the King,” she whispered as if their voices would be carried straight to the king’s ears.
Isobel laughed sweetly and shook her head. “Lass. Ye be no longer in the hands of the English. Here, we do teach our children to read. It is considered an offense not to!”
Slowly Aishlinn’s lips began to turn upward and she suddenly felt wicked, as if she were doing something very, very wrong. But the idea of actually learning to read was quite appealing as was the thought of becoming a proper lady. If only her brothers could see her now.
Chapter Eighteen
Had she known that learning to read and write would be harder on a body than working in the fields or hunting, she might not have been so excited at the prospect of a proper education. But it was exciting. Isobel opened entire new worlds to her and she was enjoying every minute of it, no matter how tired she was.
She would rise each morning and race to work in the kitchens. The moment she finished whatever tasks Mary had given her for the day, she would happily race to Isobel’s room. Even after the many days that followed she still could not contain her excitement. It still felt strange each time she was allowed to touch a book or put a quill to parchment to practice writing her letters. But she relished it and each day she thanked God for bringing her here.
When the nightmares came, Aishlinn would go to Isobel rather than Duncan. Some nights she would crawl into Isobel’s bed while other nights Isobel would sit near Aishlinn’s bed until she fell back to sleep. It was still difficult for Aishlinn to understand how Isobel could love her as her own.
She would read and write and practice sums for a few hours each afternoon before they would turn to learning to weave. Aishlinn loved the scent of the heavy threads and how soft they felt on her fingers. The sound of the shuttles as she passed one over the other was as soothing to her spirits as a lullaby to a new bairn. She could only hope to someday be as skillful at it as her mother had been and Isobel seemed to be.
Isobel was keeping Aishlinn so busy that it made it nearly impossible for Duncan to spend more than a moment or two with her. He was growing quite frustrated with it, but was profoundly glad to see the excitement upon Aishlinn’s face as she learned to read and write.
Isobel had also put a stop to them sitting together at the evening meals. She insisted that Aishlinn sit with her and the other ladies under the guise that it would help her to grow as a refined woman. Duncan could tell from Aishlinn’s bored expression during those meals that she did not like it any more than he did. Many times he caught her glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
Sleep brought no respite for him, for ’twas there he found her each night, in his dreams. Vivid, sweet, wicked dreams of her nestled in his arms, as she had been that one delightful night when nothing happened between them but sleep. In his dreams, far more than sleep was happening.
Angus was long overdue to arrive home but finally word had arrived in the form of a messenger. He brought with him a letter for Isobel as well as a group of musicians to entertain the clan. The messenger informed Duncan that the talks were not progressing as smoothly as Angus had hoped and he would be delayed for at least another fortnight.
Though Duncan would have preferred Angus return sooner rather than later, he knew his chief was where he was most needed. The safety and future of the clan took precedence over all else. Duncan could tend to the needs of his clan well enough and he only wished Angus had returned so that he could help him sort out the blasted feelings he had for Aishlinn.
Alone in her room, Isobel read the letter from her husband. Tears burned her eyes as she read it. She could almost hear Angus’ deep booming voice whispering softly to her through the words written on the parchment. His letter held promises of the many things he desired to do with her upon his return. Some were so detailed they brought not only a smile to her face but a blush of red as well. Even though he had just turned forty, he often behaved like a man half his age when it came to his wife.
He prayed -- and she knew he meant it only in jest -- that another man, perhaps one much younger and more braw than he, had not stolen her heart in his absence. Expressing his never-ending love and gratitude to her and how much he missed being near her, he prayed she be well and safe. He could barely wait to return home and to Isobel.
Holding the letter to her heart for several long moments she fought back tears for she missed her husband very much. She penned her own letter to him professing her own love and devotion and expressed to him that he was greatly missed, not just by her but their many children and clansmen. She also reassured him that there was no other man on the face of the earth who could steal her heart from him. He was the only man she would ever love.
Isobel decided it best not to mention the young Aishlinn for now. There would be plenty of time to sort it all out when he returned. ’Twas news, after all, that must be told face to face.
Leaving her private chamber to give her letter to the messenger, she saw Aishlinn sitting at the long table. The lass had a most serious expression upon her face as she chewed at her bottom lip and studied the letters on the page before her. Isobel could see that dark circles, from the stresses of learning and lack of sleep, had begun to form under the girl’s eyes.
Feeling perhaps that she had been pushing the lass much too hard of late, and with her spirits lifted after reading her husband’s letter, Isobel made a decision. She would give Aishlinn the remainder of the afternoon to do with as she pleased.
“Aishlinn?” she said, tucking her letter into the pocket of her skirt. “I’ve decided that ye’ve been working far too much of late. It is too bonny a day to be stuck in here.”
Not sure what Isobel meant, she asked, “Do you wish me to study elsewhere?”
“Nay! I wish ye to close the books and study no
more this day. Go. Soak up some fresh air and sunshine. Find Bree and tell her the secrets ye won’t tell any other. Find a lad to bat yer eyelashes at!” Isobel laughed aloud as she watched Aishlinn’s eyes quickly fill with excitement and relief. “I’ll see ye back here on the morrow. Now be gone with ye, before I change me mind!”
She needn’t be told twice. With great care she closed her book before running from the room. Not wanting to risk the chance that Isobel would change her mind and call her back to her studies, Aishlinn raced down the hallway and nearly tumbled down the stairs. Freedom for the rest of the day was too grand a thought to waste anywhere but out of doors.
She dashed through the kitchens and out the door, shouting hello and goodbye to those she passed. She paused long enough to take in a deep breath of fresh air and to feel the sunshine on her face. Arching her back and turning her face to the sun, she stood still for a moment, soaking it in, glad that the rest of the glorious day was hers to do with as she pleased.
As she raced past the laundries and rounded the corner at a full run, she ran straight into Duncan. She landed full into him with a thump, nearly falling backwards. Startled, Duncan reached out and caught her before she tumbled and using more force than he intended, he pulled her right back into him.
“Duncan! I’m sorry!” she smiled at him, excited to be free and to be seeing him.
“Where are ye running off to? Did ye escape Isobel’s oubliette, be that why yer runnin'?” he laughed, his eyes twinkling in the bright midday sunlight. He was very glad to see her and not ready to let go of her.
A wide smile came to her face. “Nay! She has given me the rest of the day to do with as I please!” she told him excitedly.
That was indeed promising news for Duncan. He was quite happy to hear he might finally have some time to spend alone with her. Knowing there were far too many watchful eyes around the castle, he worried that Isobel might learn that he was speaking with Aishlinn and decide to intervene. He wasn’t willing to risk it.
Timeless Tales of Honor Page 18
