Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  “Who else knows?” Aishlinn finally found the courage to ask.

  Isobel shook her head. “No one.”

  Aishlinn slumped back into the chair, her mind racing with even more unanswered questions. Angus was her father and he had apparently loved her mother enough to want to marry her. But why, why did she end up marrying Broc? How had she even known Broc?

  Isobel came and sat across from her. “I ken ye have many questions Aishlinn. Some we’ll have answers to, others not. I’m afraid the answers ye seek the most are buried with yer mother and with Broc.”

  She gently squeezed Aishlinn’s hands in her own. “Yer mum and I were half-blooded sisters. Her father was an Englishman, but mine a Highlander -- a true Scotsman. My father died when I was but a bairn. Our mum married the Englishman when I was three. He had promised we would stay in the highlands, but soon he changed his mind and forced us to move to the lowlands. We hated it there.”

  Isobel turned and smiled at her husband. “Our grandmother was the cook here, long before Mary, and we would visit every summer. Our mother had decided to move us here for we all missed the highlands, especially yer mother. We met Angus the summer yer mother turned ten and five.” She turned back to Aishlinn who sat stoically before her.

  Aishlinn could see the pain in Isobel’s face as she spoke. “I was in Inverness when I learned of Laiden’s death. I moved back here, to Dunshire immediately.” A tear escaped her eye. “I came back to help my mum and grandmother. Laiden’s death nearly killed us all, but none more so than Angus.”

  Both women turned to look at Angus who had been standing very quietly near the fireplace. The pain of the memories could be seen etched across his face.

  “Angus had fallen into the bottle for a very long time, so great was his anguish over losing ye both,” Isobel said, turning her attention back to Aishlinn. “We all believed the lie Broc had told, Aishlinn. Had any of us even an inkling that what he said was not true, we would have come for ye both.”

  Aishlinn did not doubt it for a moment. How differently all their lives would have been had they not believed the lies.

  “I believe that you would have,” Aishlinn said softly as she gave Isobel’s hand a light squeeze. She could not blame anyone in this room for anything Broc had done.

  “’Twas a year after her death, or what we thought was her death, before Angus and I realized we were in love. We were married and less than a year later we were blessed with Bree,” Isobel said.

  “My guilt, after seeing ye for the first time Aishlinn, was immeasurable!” she told Aishlinn. “I felt like I had betrayed yer mother, my sister.” More tears flowed and she was powerless to stop them.

  “Isobel, none of this is your fault, or Angus’,” she told her. “This is all Broc’s doing. The blame is his, and his alone. You did not betray my mother. Broc did. He betrayed us all.”

  Aishlinn’s heart ached for Isobel and Angus. She knew they must feel a tremendous amount of guilt for believing Broc. They had built a life together, Angus and Isobel. Now, all these many years later, here comes Aishlinn, a ghost from their past, to show them their life had been built on the lie told by a man with a sick heart and a sick mind.

  It made sense to Aishlinn now, why Broc had not allowed her to leave his home after Laiden had succumbed to the fevers. Had he allowed Aishlinn to leave him, there was a chance his lie would have been discovered. She wondered if Moirra had known the truth or at least enough of it that she would have seen to it that Aishlinn was returned to Angus. Perhaps that was why Broc kept her: to save his own life.

  Angus let out a long sigh. “Aishlinn, I am truly sorry for all that was done to ye.” His shoulders sagged with guilt and sadness over the life his daughter had been forced to live.

  Aishlinn stood, pushed her shoulders back and her lifted head high. “I’ll not have either of you feeling guilty over the lies told by a mad man,” she said firmly. “What’s done is done and we cannot change it. Broc had control over us for twenty years and I’ll not allow him to keep it!” She put her hands upon her hips. “He was a sick man and we all know it. There’ll be no more guilt, no more what ifs.”

  Angus chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Ya do have yer mother’s temperament.”

  A smile came to Aishlinn’s face. “I’ll take that as a compliment and thank you for it.” Too many years she had heard she was nothing like her mother, not in looks or spirit or heart. Her heart swelled with pride to learn those were simply more of Broc’s lies.

  Isobel went to her husband and hugged him tightly. She whispered something into his ear. Whatever she had said caused him to raise his eyebrows and his lips to curve up rather devilishly. He chuckled at Isobel before turning his attention back to Aishlinn. “I believe we have another matter to discuss,” he said.

  Aishlinn eyed him curiously and wondered if perhaps there were more secrets to unfold this day. “What matter?” she asked nervously, doubting she had the strength to take any more secrets.

  “The matter of Duncan,” Angus said. His eyes twinkled when he saw her face burn with embarrassment. “It seems he’s fallen in love with me daughter!”

  Slowly Aishlinn sat back in the chair. It felt utterly strange, for one, to have Angus so readily refer to her as his daughter. Even more embarrassing was the prospect of discussing her feelings for Duncan with him. She sighed heavily for she doubted Duncan still cared for her, not after what she had done to him earlier in the day.

  “It matters not,” she said. “He was so angry with me earlier, that I do not think he still holds good feelings towards me.”

  A scowl came to Angus’ face. “Angry with ye? Over what?”

  Isobel recounted the incident on the archery field for him. “I see,” he said, running his hand along his chin as his face beamed with pride. “Me daughter can shoot that well, aye?”

  More embarrassment flooded over Aishlinn. “It matters not that I can shoot well. What matters is that I was rude to him in front of his men.” She clasped her hands together to hide the fact that they were shaking.

  “I doubt it will be something he can get over easily. I am certain he no longer cares for me as he did.”

  Angus let out a huge laugh. “Ya think that do ye?”

  It was impossible to look at either of them, for fear her true feelings would be readily seen in her face. She loved Duncan, loved him more than anything. But she knew that she had made a terrible mistake by openly disrespecting him in front of his men and she was certain that he would not be able to forgive her. Slowly she nodded her head and whispered, “Aye.”

  “Well ye better be tellin’ Duncan that he no longer cares for ye, because I dunna think he kens it!” Angus chuckled.

  Aishlinn looked at him, quite puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  His smile was broad as he put his hand upon her shoulder. “Because right before ye came to see me, he told me that he loved ye.”

  “He did?” Her heart began to pound and her palms grew moist. Aishlinn knew he had cared for her, but he had not yet told her that he loved her. Certainly Angus must have misunderstood the words Duncan had used to describe his feelings for Aishlinn. “He told you that?”

  “Aye, he did.” Angus squeezed her shoulder slightly. “Go. Talk to the lad, Aishlinn.”

  She stood quickly before realizing she could not go to Duncan. “I can’t!” she said.

  “Why not?” Isobel asked.

  “He has not released me from my room yet! He said I was not to leave until he gave his permission.” She felt silly saying it aloud. She had disrespected him earlier and wished not to that again.

  Angus laughed more boisterously. “Lass, ye go find him. And if he grows angry with ye over it, ye tell him to haud his wheesht or ye’ll tell yer father of it!”

  Aishlinn smiled and flung her arms around Angus’ neck. Her father, she thought. My father. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of knowing that she did in fact have a father and one who was able to care for her, to claim h
er as his own in the blink of an eye. It mattered not to him that twenty years of lies had separated them and had kept them apart. She was his daughter and that was all that seemed to matter. Tears raced down her cheeks as she sobbed, her head resting on his chest.

  Angus patted her back and tears filled in his own eyes. “Lass, don’t be cryin’ now.” He looked to Isobel for help. “I canna stand it when a woman cries!” he said. Isobel came to them both and wrapped her arms around them.

  “I haven’t met a highlander yet who could!”

  * * *

  After speaking with her father, Aishlinn left him and Isobel and went immediately to seek out Duncan. She wanted to first apologize for being disrespectful to him earlier that morning. She could only hope that he would accept her apology. Secondly, she wanted bring him back to Angus and Isobel and together, they would tell him that she had indeed found her real family.

  She was not certain where he might be so she stopped in the kitchens to ask if Mary had seen him. “Aye, a while ago lass. Has he given ye permission to leave yer room?” Mary asked as she stirred a pot of stew that hung in the fireplace.

  Without a clue how to explain the last hour of her life, Aishlinn fibbed. “Aye. He has.”

  “He said he needed some fresh air,” Mary said as she cocked her head towards the door. “Ye’ll probably find him out of doors. Check the training fields, he likes to go there sometimes to think.” Aishlinn was out the door before Mary had time to bid her good day.

  Black Richard had spotted her as she exited the kitchens. He ran to catch up with her. “How be ye this fine day, Aishlinn?” he asked as he walked alongside her.

  “Fine, and you?” She was on a mission to find Duncan and wanted not to waste time with idle conversation, therefore she did not slow her pace.

  “I am well,” he said, wishing she would stop for a moment to talk with him. He caught a glimpse of the determined expression upon her face. “Ya seem to be in a bit of a hurry this day,” he said.

  Aishlinn stopped rather abruptly and put her hands on her hips. “Aye, I am. Is there something you need?” she asked and hoped that she did not sound as perturbed as she felt. She needed to speak with Duncan straight away.

  Black Richard reviewed her for a moment. He had been carrying around some strong feelings for her for quite a time now. He decided to throw all caution to the wind, swallowed hard and felt as though he were leaping into an unknown abyss.

  “Only the company of the most beautiful woman in the clan.” He hoped she would see and hear his sincerity.

  She hadn’t a clue that Black Richard held any romantic feelings towards her. Had she not been so focused on finding Duncan she would have realized more readily what he was saying. Instead, she was distracted and wanted only to find Duncan.

  “Who might that be, Richard? I’ll help you find her as soon as I’m done.”

  He sighed heavily as his shoulders sunk. “I be lookin’ at her right now.” He wasn’t ready to give up the pursuit just yet.

  Aishlinn shook her head, wishing to be done with him. “Black Richard, I’ve really no time at the moment,” she said as she resumed walking.

  “I can see that, lass,” he said resuming his pace beside her. “I wish it were me ye were in such a hurry to find,” he blurted out. “And not Duncan.”

  She stopped, quite perplexed by his statement. Again, men were such confusing beasts. “What do you mean?”

  A blind man could see how Aishlinn and Duncan felt about one another. What was not quite so apparent however, was whether or not they had acted upon those feelings.

  “Aishlinn, I ken ye have feelings for Duncan, and he ye.” He paused for a moment to focus at his feet. “If however, it does not go well with Duncan, the way ye wish,” he looked into her face then, into those bonny green eyes of hers and felt a tug at his heart. “I would hope ye would keep me in mind.”

  Aishlinn was quite confused and not at all certain what the man was getting at. “In mind? In mind for what?”

  He could not resist the urge to move a bit of loose hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. ’Twas a very intimate gesture to be sure and one he probably should not have succumbed to the desire to take. He cared not, for he was certain it would be the one and only chance he would ever have to feel the softness of her skin. “As a suitor, Aishlinn.”

  His statement flabbergasted her, for not long ago, Duncan had told her that Black Richard held nothing more than a friendship toward her. She supposed she should be quite angry with him right now, but could not find it in her heart to be. Duncan had lied, she was sure of it, but he had lied only because he wanted to keep her to himself. Black Richard, although quite a braw and handsome man, did not make her stomach jump or her heart race rapidly whenever he was near the way Duncan’s presence did.

  Not long ago she would have turned red with embarrassment and not had a clue what to do or how to respond to such a statement. Flattered by his words, she smiled at him sweetly as she laid her hand upon his cheek ever so gently. “Thank you, Richard.”

  “But?” he was certain he knew what she would say to him next. ’Twould be something along the lines of thank you but no thank you and he felt his heart sink at the thought of it. Regardless of what she would say next, he felt relieved in letting her know he was quite interested in more than a friendship with her.

  “But my heart,” she said as she pulled her hand away, “belongs to Duncan.”

  Black Richard nodded his head, disheartened that her hand left his face far too soon. He had known all along but had decided to take a chance anyway. At least they both knew for certain where the other stood.

  As he was beginning to bid her good luck with Duncan, from out of nowhere he heard a low, guttural growl right before being knocked completely on his arse.

  * * *

  Seeing Aishlinn and Black Richard together had been more than he could take. Duncan had been standing with Wee William, Tall Thomas, and Rowan when he had caught sight of the two of them, walking along as if they had not a care in the world. White-hot anger burst before his eyes when he saw Black Richard touching Aishlinn’s face. White turned to red the moment he saw Aishlinn return the touch with one of her own as she smiled ever so sweetly at him.

  All went black from there and the next thing he knew, he was growling as he ran towards Black Richard, grabbing him about the waist and knocking him to the ground with a loud thump.

  Having been caught off guard, Black Richard was temporarily stunned with the wind knocked from him. As he was rolled over onto his back, he saw Duncan’s face, twisted in anger, staring down at him. Black Richard’s years of warrior training and battle experience kicked in. Gaining his wits, he took a deep breath as he arched his back, grabbed Duncan by the arms and threw him off, sending him tumbling over his head where he landed on his back.

  Duncan immediately got to his feet, crouching in a defensive stance. His anger kept him focused only on the man before him, and not Aishlinn as she stood nearby yelling at them both to stop. The two men paused only long enough for each to size up his opponent. Duncan took a deep breath as he lunged again at Black Richard, grabbing him by his bare arms as he quickly knocked him off balance by thrusting an ankle behind Richard’s calf, bringing him hard to the ground.

  Duncan pounced upon Black Richard, pinning him to the ground with the weight of his knees and sheer brute strength. Duncan was momentarily caught off guard by the fact that Black Richard was smiling up at him.

  “So ye do have feelings for the lass after all, aye, Duncan?” Black Richard was goading Duncan and it was working for more white-hot anger surged through him, and gave Black Richard the break he needed.

  He lunged his legs upwards and kicked Duncan at the tender spot on his lower back with his knee. Duncan loosened his grip as he was forced to suck in air. Black Richard used the opportunity to his advantage and twisted Duncan off him and pinned him on his back.

  They paid no attention to the people who had gathered
around them, least of all to the woman they fought over. As the two of them fought, Aishlinn shouted at three boys who were standing together watching the two grown men make complete fools of themselves.

  “You!” she shouted at them, “Fetch me buckets of water straight away!” The boys were too startled to object and scurried away to do as they were told.

  Aishlinn stomped angrily up to Wee William who was cheering the fight on. “Wee William!” she yelled at him. “Give me your sword and scabbard!” she demanded.

  Wee William looked at her as if she were a fool and said “Nay. Let the lads fight it out, lass.” He was enjoying the pummeling going on before him.

  Aishlinn huffed as she swiftly reached toward Wee William’s waist and in one deft move unbuckled the belt that held his scabbard. She let the belt fall away as she stormed back to Duncan, who now had Black Richard pinned underneath him again. Taking the heavy scabbard into both her hands, she lifted it high into the air before bringing it down hard against Duncan’s skull. She didn’t really have the strength to actually wield it in any professional manner. She let the weight of it do the work for her.

  Duncan had not expected an attack from the rear. Quite shocked and in a good deal of pain, he released his grip on Black Richard and brought his hands to the back of his head.

  “What the bloody hell!” he yelled as he rolled over to his back and saw his Aishlinn standing over him. She was glowing from the tiny twinkling sparks that floated in front of his eyes from the hit he had taken. She looked downright furious.

  Quickly and with great precision, Aishlinn pulled the sword from the scabbard with her right hand and held the tip of it just inches from Duncan’s chest. With her left, she thrust the scabbard down hard against Black Richard’s sternum, pinning him to the ground.

  “Do not either of ye move!” she said angrily. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense and it will stop now!”