Findley's Lass

by Suzan Tisdale

  ~~~

  With Maggy in the middle, Findley and Patrick remained vigilant and watchful as they walked back to the inn. Findley stayed as close to Maggy as possible so as not to draw an unwanted attention to the shackles that bound them together.

  Patrick spotted them first. Just two blocks from the inn, he saw the two Buchannan men as they rounded a corner. Without missing a step he spoke quietly and calmly to Findley. “Do ye see them, Findley?”

  Findley followed Patrick’s gaze. Up ahead and coming toward them were two Buchannan men. Maggy tensed as Findley and Patrick scanned the area for more Buchannans as well as a quick escape.

  Findley knew there had been three that Richard had been watching back at the inn. He had not seen those men so he could not be sure if the men walking toward them were part of that trio or if they were two more.

  “Findley,” Maggy whispered as she slowed her pace.

  Findley and Patrick knew they’d draw more attention if they stopped abruptly so they pulled her along. “Relax, Maggy. Do nothin’ to bring attention to us.”

  Just a few steps ahead Findley spied a sign over a shop door indicating it was a dressmaker and haberdashery. “Into the shop, Patrick,” Findley said with a nod of his head.

  While Patrick led the way, Findley gave glanced toward the Buchannan men who were rapidly advancing. It didn’t appear as though they had been seen, but Findley wouldn’t feel any sense of relief until he had Maggy safely back in their room.

  Findley guided Maggy to the rear of the shop while Patrick pretended to look at the fine dresses near the window. Pulling Maggy to his side, his hand on the hilt of his sword, he gave a quick survey of their surroundings.

  An older man, apparently the shopkeeper, stood behind the long counter and conversed with an older woman. Apparently she was a noblewoman for she had two maids in her attendance. Both looked bored and solemn as they stood behind and to the side of the older woman.

  More people were scattered throughout the large store, looking at the fine fabrics, discussing dresses, shoes, and other mundane things in which Findley had absolutely no interest. Tall shelves that sat in the middle of the shop blocked most of his view.

  As he peered through a small opening in the shelves to get a better look at the front of the shop, he heard his name being called. And it was not Maggy who spoke it.

  “Findley!”

  He whirled around, shoving Maggy behind him for protection. Before he realized it, Patrick was standing beside him with a smile on his face.

  “What are ye doin’ here?” the woman asked as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a firm hug.

  “Aishlinn?” he asked, puzzled by her presence in the shop. He had said goodbye to her and Duncan more than two sennights ago. Why was she here?

  She pulled away from him, her bright smile beaming at him as she hugged Patrick and patted him on the back.

  “What are ye doin’ in Dundee? I thought ye were goin’ to find yer beautiful Maggy and her boys and take them back to Gregor?” Her look was a blend of confusion and disappointment.

  Maggy had reflexively drawn into herself, hiding behind Findley and Patrick. She had been terrified to see the Buchannan men moments ago and had been searching the shop for a means of escape. Her fear was momentarily displaced when she saw this strange, beautiful woman hugging Findley.

  Yer beautiful Maggy? Who was this woman, Maggy wondered. And how does she know of me? Maggy stood on her tiptoes and tried to get a better look at the woman. But Findley and Patrick were so tall that it was impossible, even on her tiptoes.

  “I could ask the same question of ye!” Findley said as he smiled down at Aishlinn. Her belly had grown since last he saw her. He could not fathom why she was so far from home in her condition.

  Aishlinn caught Findley’s glance at her belly and smiled. “Yer nearly as bad as Duncan and my father!” she said as she placed her hands on her hips. “I be fine! Our babe is not due until springtime.”

  Maggy’s ears perked up. The woman had an English accent. She tried to wriggle in between Findley and Patrick, but both men were like walls of stone! When Findley felt her press her head into his arm, he closed in tighter to Patrick. She fought the urge to kick them both.

  “My father insists on new furniture and fabrics for his grandchild,” Aishlinn said. “He says nothing is too good for his grandchildren. He wanted to send Isobel for me, but I convinced him she was needed at Gregor and that I could manage quite well. He finally relented, but only if Duncan came with me!” Aishlinn shook her head and smiled. “And we had to bring guards!”

  Hope began to throb in Findley’s heart. “How many?” he blurted out.

  Not knowing the importance of the question, Aishlinn giggled, “Only five and twenty!”

  Findley and Patrick looked at each other. ’Twas a good number to start with and for the first time in days, Findley felt hopeful.

  Maggy grew confused. Who was this woman and why would her father insist on guards to accompany her to buy furniture for her babe? And who was Duncan? She tried to wriggle through the human wall before her, only to be pushed backward again. Enough was enough!

  Maggy took her knee and landed a firm blow to the back of Findley’s knee. He was caught off guard as he felt his knee give way and he nearly fell down. Maggy took the opportunity to push her way in between the two men.

  The woman standing before her was breathtakingly beautiful. Her golden blonde hair was woven into an intricate braid around her head. An expensive and luxurious length of silk trailed from the top of her head to the hem of her beautiful green damask gown. Maggy thought she was perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

  “Hello,” Aishlinn said with a warm smile.

  Maggy had momentarily lost her voice. She looked up at Findley who was scowling down at her but she did not care. Her curiosity was piqued as to how this woman knew about her.

  “Maggy,” Findley said. She chose to ignore the tone of warning in his voice.

  Maggy turned back to Aishlinn. “M’lady,” she said, giving her a curtsey.

  Aishlinn shook her head, smiled and held out her hand. “Please, call me Aishlinn. Ye must be the beautiful Maggy I’ve heard so much about.”

  Maggy took her hand, confusion swarming in her head. But I’ve heard naught about you.

  Aishlinn read Maggy’s confused expression. “Findley could speak of nothing else but you while he was healing this summer.”

  “Healing? From what?” Maggy asked, growing more confused.

  Aishlinn turned her gaze to Findley. “Did ye not speak of it to her, Findley?”

  Was that a blush of embarrassment Maggy saw flashing across Findley’s face? And why was Patrick chuckling?

  “’Tis a story fer another time,” he said to Aishlinn before turning to Maggy. “And time is a luxury we do no’ have at the moment.”

  As Maggy looked to Findley and Patrick for answers, she caught sight of man approaching them. Fear shot from her toes to the top of her head. He was an imposing figure, tall, broad shouldered, but it was the scowl on his face that frightened her. Without thought, Maggy ducked in behind Findley and Patrick.

  “Duncan!” Aishlinn said happily.

  “Aishlinn!” Maggy detected more than just a hint of anger in his voice. “I’ve been lookin’ all over fer ye!”

  “Och! I’ve been right here, husband.”

  Duncan let out an exasperated sigh. “But ye were to stay beside me at all times! Ye sneaked off without tellin’ me! I swear ye’ve scared ten years off me life!”

  “I doubt there are any English here, husband,” she said teasingly. “And look, Findley and Patrick are here now, as well.”

  “I can see that, wife.” Duncan shook his head and lowered it. “Findley, do ye see what torture she puts me through?”

  Findley and Patrick laughed as they shook hands with Duncan. “Aye, we do,” Patrick said. “Is she worth the worry and torture?”

  Duncan crossed h
is arms over his chest. “I find meself askin’ that same question multiple times a day, Patrick.”

  Aishlinn raised her eyebrow and pulled on her husband’s arm. “And how do you answer that question, husband?”

  A slow smile came to his face as he pretended to ignore his wife. Duncan winked at his friends, “Be smart, lads! If a beautiful and beguiling woman tries to get her talons into ye, run! I swear, the torture, the worry is more than I can bear at times. Marriage be no’ for the faint of heart! Nay,” he shook his head, “It takes a strong man with the patience of Job just to get through the mornin’!”

  Aishlinn glared at him. “Yer torture is nothin’ compared to what I have to endure!” She was slipping into a Scottish brogue as she began to chastise him. “And it grows worse with each day! Dunna lift this, dunna lift that! Do no’ strain yerself. Do no’ test me patience wife! Och and arrrgh!” she said mockingly. “All the day long, like I be somethin’ fragile and weak, and I’m unable to care for myself!”

  Relief washed over Maggy when she realized the large and imposing man was Aishlinn’s husband. She was enjoying the back and forth banter taking place between the two people. Even a fool could see that they loved one another. Through a small sliver of space between Findley and Patrick, Maggy could see Duncan had slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

  “But, she does make up fer it at the end of each day,” he said with a devious grin.

  Aishlinn’s face burned red. “Duncan!” she chastised him. “Ye shouldn’t speak like that!”

  Duncan chuckled. “I dunna where yer mind is, wife. I was speakin’ of the fine meals you prepare me each eve!”

  Maggy felt laughter bubbling up and she had to put her hand to her lips to keep it from escaping. But the look in the man’s eyes as he stared down as his very tiny wife, brought a sense of sadness and longing to Maggy.

  She wished she could someday have that kind of playful relationship with a man, but those wishes would not be granted and her prayers would go unanswered. She knew all too well the kind of life that waited for her at the end of this ordeal; and it would resemble nothing like what the two young people before her shared.

  “Duncan, ye’ve scared Maggy! She hides behind Findley and Patrick!” Aishlinn reached in between the two men, found Maggy’s arm and pulled her through.

  “Maggy, this is my husband, Duncan McEwan,” she said with a nod of her head. “Duncan, this is Findley’s lass, Maggy.”

  It was Maggy’s turn to burn red. What on earth did she mean by Findley’s lass? Mayhap the young woman was confused, had taken a blow to her head at some point. There was no relationship between her and Findley. He was merely helping her get her son back and nothing more.

  Duncan bowed slightly and smiled at Findley. “She’s just as bonny as ye described her, Findley.”

  Maggy looked up at Findley. The muscles in his jaw were clenching and she detected a twitch forming in his eye. What on earth had Findley told these two people?

  “Findley,” Maggy whispered but could not think of how to form the question burning in her mind.

  Duncan and Aishlinn hadn’t a clue as to why Maggy looked at Findley with such a perplexed expression. They cast each other looks of confusion, shrugged their shoulders and turned their attention back to Findley.

  “Have ye eaten yet?” Aishlinn asked the three of them. “I realize it is not quite time for an evening meal, but I find myself quite hungry,” she said as she patted her belly with her hand.

  At the moment, Maggy had no appetite. There were unanswered questions hanging in the air. Findley was purposely ignoring her even as she tugged on his arm.

  “I’m afraid we’ve no time, Aishlinn. I’ve a need to speak with Duncan if ye dunna mind. ’Tis verra important.” Findley was unsuccessful in hiding his worry. He now had two women to worry over. There was no telling what the Buchannan men would do to any of the people he might come in contact with.

  Aishlinn sensed the seriousness in his tone. She had learned there were times when the men in her life wanted nothing more than to protect her and those they loved. Eventually she’d drag the problem out of her husband. Too hungry at the moment to beg for more information, she stepped toward Maggy.

  “We might as well give the men the privacy they’re needing at the moment, Maggy. We can go back to our inn and eat while the men talk.” Looping her arm through Maggy’s she began to pull her away from the men.

  Maggy was too flummoxed to argue and began to walk with Aishlinn. She had only taken a few steps when she was abruptly reminded that she could not leave Findley’s side. She let out a slight grunt when the shackles pulled her back toward Findley.

  Aishlinn turned to see what had stopped Maggy from following. Her eyes grew as large as saucers when she saw the shackles holding the two of them together.

  “Findley McKenna! What on earth have ye done!” she exclaimed.

  Findley rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve done nothin’, lass,” he tried to explain further but was interrupted by Aishlinn.

  “Dunna lie to me Findley McKenna!” Aishlinn said angrily. “Ye’ve got the poor lass shackled to you like a prisoner! Is that any way to treat the woman ye lo-”

  Findley cut her off sharply, his voice loud. “Aishlinn!” he boomed. “I assure ye that these shackles aren’t here by my doin’, but by Maggy’s!”

  Aishlinn looked at him disbelievingly. “Nay! I dunna believe that! Why would she do such a thing?” She turned to Maggy, with her hands on her hips and waited for an explanation.

  Maggy let out a quick sigh. “I had to or he’d have left me and me sons with the monks, m’lady. I had no other choice in the matter, I assure ye.” She cast a look of dismay up at Findley. He still would not look at her.

  “The monks?” Aishlinn asked. She shook her head as if doing so would somehow bring clarification to the burgeoning questions. “Why would you leave them with the monks?” she asked Findley. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, she looked to Patrick. Apparently both men had taken a vow of silence for neither would answer.

  “Ye were supposed to bring them all back to Gregor,” Aishlinn said. “And now the poor lass has to shackle herself to you in order that you won’t desert her,” she said to no one in particular.

  “’Tis a verra long story, m’lady,” Maggy offered. “And I’m afraid it be no’ a pleasant one.”

  “I think,” Duncan interjected, “that there is much we dunna ken about it, Aishlinn. I think mayhap we should find a quiet place to discuss the matter?” He looked to Findley for affirmation.

  “Aye, we should,” Findley pulled Maggy closer and nodded his head toward Aishlinn. “Duncan, there be Buchannans lookin’ fer us. Ye best find yer men and meet us back at our rooms at the Crooked Arms.”

  At the mention of Buchannans, Duncan’s hand reflexively went to his sword as he pulled Aishlinn into his free arm. “Buchannans?”

  “Aye,” Findley said with a nod of his head. “Patrick, will ye see if there be a back door we can use?”

  Patrick nodded his head and disappeared through a door at the rear of the shop.

  “Buchannans,” Aishlinn murmured as fear flashed into her eyes. “What do the Buchannans want?” she asked growing more confused and fearful.

  Findley answered her question. “They want me Maggy.”

  ~~~

  There wasn’t much that escaped the dark stranger’s eyes. He had seen them arrive late last night and had been watching them ever since. Last night he had thanked whatever intervening forces had brought them to this place. He wouldn’t thank God, for he had long ago given up believing in a kind or gracious God. The hell he had endured all those years as a prisoner had destroyed his faith.

  It really didn’t matter how she got here, only that she was. Soon, he would be able to exact his revenge on the man who had destroyed his life. He’d do that by taking something near and dear to the betrayer’s heart; his woman and his son.

  While he was quite t
empted to walk up to her and run a dagger through her heart, he knew that he’d be dead before her corpse hit the ground. Nay, he wanted to kill them both, especially the boy. The boy was the key.

  Years of training had taught him how to study people without being noticed. From what he just witnessed from the other side of the street, he could tell Maggy and the men she was with were hiding from Buchannan men. What he hadn’t figured out yet, was why.

  Instinct and experience told him they’d probably leave the shop through a back entrance. Knowing the alley behind the wall of shops led in only two directions, he slowly crossed the street. As he walked by the shop he could see them standing and speaking with a young woman.

  He made his way to the corner stopping occasionally to look into a shop window before making his way around the corner. Pausing nonchalantly at the entrance of the alley, he waited. The wait wasn’t long before he saw them flood out of the rear of the shop. Seeing they were heading away from him, he went back the way he came and was able to follow at a good distance.

  He had to find out why they were hiding from the Buchannans. Surmising the best way to do that would be out of the mouths of Buchannans, he decided on his next course of action. He’d go back to the inn, and learn what he could from those men.

  ~~~

  Night had descended by the time Findley had recounted to Duncan and Aishlinn all that had transpired. Duncan had readily agreed to giving half his men over to aid Findley and his quest for the kidnapped Ian.

  Had Aishlinn not been with him, Duncan would have joined in the quest himself. But his wife and unborn child were his primary concern. He would take her back to Gregor at first light and then meet with Findley and the others in Aberdeen.

  Aishlinn and Duncan had done their best to convince Maggy to return with them to Gregor. Their pleas fell on deaf ears for Maggy would have none of it. She would not admit to having a key though everyone around her believed that she did.

  Maggy did agree to send her sons back with Duncan and Aishlinn. She knew the boys would be angry with her decision, but their safety was her main priority and she refused to take any further chances of them ending up in the hands of the Buchannans. As she had suspected, the news did not settle well with them.