MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter (13 page)

“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 ya. 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 ya be a man now does no’ mean I can’t still give ya a skelpin’!”

Duncan laughed at her, before 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.

Duncan enjoyed the look upon her face.
 
“Ya even have yer own privy!” he said, as he walked to a door near the bed and opened it.
 
“Ya won’t have to scurry about in the middle of the night to find one.”

Aishlinn was stunned for she had never enjoyed such comforts before.
 

“Rowan!” Duncan barked.
 
“Let Angus know we’ve returned and that I need to speak with him immediately.”
 

Rowan nodded, bid Aishlinn good day and left the room quickly.

Duncan stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Aishlinn look about the room.
 
As her eyes fell from one object to another, he found himself wishing he knew what she might be thinking. He was about to ask her that very question when a very beautiful young woman with long black hair and green eyes walked into the room.

“Duncan!” she exclaimed as she ran up to hug him.
 
Aishlinn remained standing near the fireplace and suddenly felt quite uncomfortable.
 
The young woman was dressed in a very fine green gown. Her thick black braid reached to her very tiny waist.
 
Aishlinn was surprised when she felt a tad jealous of not only the young girl’s beauty but of the big hug she was now receiving from Duncan.

“Bree,” he said as he finally let go and turned her to face Aishlinn.
 
“I would like ye to meet Aishlinn. Aishlinn, this is me sister, Bree.” He introduced them with a broad smile.
 

“Bree, she speaks only the English.” Aishlinn was slightly confused for she thought all of Duncan’s family had been killed long ago.
 
Perhaps the lass was not a blood sister, but instead a foster sister. She would ask Duncan of it later.

The young woman’s smile had quickly disappeared when she saw Aishlinn’s face. “Lass! Ya do look a fright!” Bree said. Her honesty made Aishlinn want to crawl away and hide.
 

“But no worries! Yer bath will be here soon.
 
We’ll take good care of ya.”
 
The girl was a whirlwind of movements as she rushed out of the room and yelled at someone in the hallway.

Soon the room was a flurry of men who brought a tub and sat it before the fireplace.
 
Young boys rushed in carrying buckets of hot water and poured them into the tub. Someone set a dressing screen in the corner as more and more water was brought in. A fire was lit while Bree rushed from the room only to return a moment later.
 
“Duncan, yer bath be ready now!
 
Be gone and let us have some privacy.”

As the last of the hot water was poured into the tub Bree took Aishlinn’s hand and led her behind the screen.
 
Not knowing of the injuries to Aishlinn’s back, Bree quickly began tugging at the belt and tunic.

“Bree,” Aishlinn began, “I knew you mean well, but I’ve bandages on my back.”

A puzzled look formed on Bree’s face as she let go of the tunic.
 
Aishlinn turned and carefully pulled the tunic over her head. She winced when she heard Bree gasp.
 

“Lass!
 
What happened to ye?” she asked. She was appalled at what she saw.
 

“Tis a long story, Bree,” Aishlinn told her as she quickly removed the trews and woolens and left them lying on the floor. She grabbed a linen that hung on the screen, and wrapped it around her waist and chest, and left her back exposed.
 
“Could you undo the bandages for me?” Aishlinn asked, keeping her back to Bree.

Bree gave a quick nod of her head and untied the long strips.
 
She could not hold in her surprise when she began lifting the bandages from the cuts.
 
“Och” She shook her head repeatedly as she removed each bandage and tossed it to the floor with Aishlinn’s clothes.
 

“A man did this to ye, dinna he?”
 
Bree was smart enough to figure out the cuts were made by a belt or strap of some sort.
 
What she couldn’t figure out was why she had been beaten.
   

“Aye,” Aishlinn said through gritted teeth.
 
She took a deep breath as she felt the last of the bandages tug away.
 

The scent of lavender wafted through the air as it clung to the steam rising up from the wooden tub.
 
Aishlinn had never taken a lavender scented bath before! Had never taken a scented bath of any kind before, for that matter.

Bree led her around the screen and to the tub.
 
Aishlinn held on to Bree’s hand for balance as she slowly stepped into the gloriously hot water and carefully sat down. She let out a long, steady, blissful sigh; ‘twas heaven.

Bree brought the stool from the table and sat down next to the tub.
 
The puzzled look was still painted across her face.
 
Aishlinn knew she probably had a hundred questions, but was too polite to ask them.

 
“How old are you Bree?”
 
Aishlinn finally asked.
 

“I’m ten and six,” Bree told her as she dipped a cloth into the water. Aishlinn took a deep breath, dunked her head under the steaming water for a few moments before coming back up.
 
Aishlinn decided that Bree was old enough to hear most of her story.
 
There were, of course, certain parts she couldn’t have shared with an adult woman, let alone someone as young as Bree.
 
Aishlinn would carefully walk around those bits and pieces of her life’s story.
 
She’d lie if she needed to.

While Bree lathered the cloth with soap, Aishlinn began her story, starting first with her mother’s death and then Moirra’s.
 
Bree listened intently as Aishlinn told of how she had ended up at Castle Firth.
 
She decided to leave out the part of the earl’s death, instead telling the young girl that he had had been so drunk from whiskey that he passed out before he could complete the reprehensible deed.

The water was tepid and Aishlinn had been scrubbed from head to toe twice and her hair washed three times before she ended with their arrival today.
 
Bree helped her from the tub and carefully wrapped the linen around Aishlinn’s shoulders.

“Ya poor thing!” Bree said shaking her head as she led Aishlinn to sit near the fire.
 
“What ordeals and trials ya’ve been through!”

Aishlinn wanted no one’s pity, only help in finding her family.
 
Deep down there was a part of her that hoped that day would not come too soon.
 
She had grown quite fond of Duncan, Rowan and Manghus, and had quickly come to think of them as the brothers she had always prayed for.

“Have they brought yer things up yet?” Bree asked as she began to rub a drying cloth over Aishlinn’s hair.
 

Aishlinn cringed inwardly, for she did not have
things.
“My dress was cut. ‘Twas in Duncan’s pack the last I saw it.
 
Perhaps you could find it for me, along with a needle and thread and I could mend it.”

Bree clucked her tongue at the notion. “Nay! We’ve plenty of things for ya to wear!” she said, shaking her head as if Aishlinn was daft.
 
“I’ll fetch ye a shift and then we’ll take care of yer back and comb out yer hair.”
   

When Bree returned a short time later, Aishlinn had begun to nod off near the fire.
 
“Lass, ya dunna want to fall asleep before we comb out yer hair and put fresh bandages on ye.
 
Lay upon the bed and I’ll take care of yer back for ye.”
 

Bree took great care at applying salve and fresh bandages to Aishlinn’s back.
 
While it stung considerably, it did not burn with the ferocity that it had this morning.
 

When she was finished wrapping the long strips around Aishlinn’s torso, Bree gently tugged the shift over Aishlinn’s head. Aishlinn had never seen such fine fabric before. She was certain it was too fine and rich a fabric for someone of her station to wear.
 
But seeing that her alternatives were limited -- return to wearing Duncan’s tunic and trews or wander about naked until her own clothing could be washed and repaired, she chose to remain quiet.

Sitting in front of the fire, with Aishlinn resting at her feet, Bree carefully ran the comb through the tangled mess of hair. Tears threatened, for the last person to comb her locks had been Moirra. And Aishlinn could not think of Moirra without her thoughts turning to her mother.