MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter (17 page)

Aishlinn stood and from the expression on her face, he could tell there was something on her mind.
 
“What is it, lass?” he asked.

“What of me now?” she said quietly.
  
“If the English are not looking for me, what shall I do? Where do I go?”
 
She felt completely lost. Terrified of the English soldiers all these many days, she had made no plans for her future other than surviving it.

Duncan smiled.
 
“This is yer home lass, at least as far as I am concerned.
 
We’ll no’ worry over anythin’ else until Angus returns.
 
For now, I wish ye to consider this,” he said spreading his arms out wide, “yer home.”

He suppressed the urge to pull her into his arms again.

“Thank you Duncan,” she whispered softly.
 
“Shall I move to the maids chambers?” she asked him, “I’m ready to begin earning my keep.”

Duncan needed no time to think on it.
 
“Ye are a guest in this castle until Angus says otherwise.
 
When he returns, he’ll decide what tasks to give to ya. For now, ye’ll stay here, in this room.”
 

Had he admitted to it, which he would not do unless under direct threat of death, he enjoyed knowing she was but a few steps from his own room.

When he had seen her face for the first time, free of the bruises, his heart had skipped a beat or two or ten.
 
For the life of him he could not figure out where these blasted thoughts were coming from. He did not like the idea of her moving below stairs and sleeping in the solar with the other women.
 
He liked the idea of having her near.

“Aishlinn, will ya sit with me at the evening meal this night?” The words rolled off his tongue before he could stop them. Although he would very much enjoy having her sitting next to him at the evening meal, he was not sure if he would be able to keep his hands to himself.

“In the gathering room? With everyone?” she asked. She had never attended an evening meal as a guest before. A servant she was and nothing more.
 
Her meals were always eaten in the kitchens, never with the powerful or privileged.
 

Duncan laughed at her.
 
“Of course, in the gatherin’ room with everyone,” he said.
 
She was a perplexing thing.
 

Aishlinn attempted to speak, stopped and tried again with no success.
 
She searched for a way to word her question without appearing daft.
 
“As a guest?” she asked him.

“Aye. As
my
guest.” He was puzzled by her question. “What be the matter lass?” he asked her.

She blew out the deep breath she had been holding.
 
“Please do not think me ungrateful Duncan, for you know that I truly am,” she began. “But I’ve never been a guest to an evening meal.
 
I’m a servant, a scullery maid.
 
I’m not used to such things.”
 
A wave of red came to her skin and Duncan found that he rather liked the fact that she was painfully innocent.

“And?” he said, as he crossed his arms over his chest and silently cursed the English. The manner in which they treated the poor was shameful.
 

Her skin grew more crimson as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
 
“I’ve no clothes!” she blurted out.
 
“I have the shift Bree has given me and nothing else.
 
I know not what happened to my dress, the one I was wearing when you found me.
 
Do you have it? Please say you do so that I can mend it before the evening meal!”
 

More embarrassment came to her when she saw his scowl deepen as his eyes turned to black slits.
 
She took the scowl to mean that her worn and tattered dress was not the proper thing to wear for such an occasion.
 
She felt her heart fall to her toes.
 

“I’m sorry Duncan,” she said, staring at her bare feet that instantly reminded her that she did not even own a pair of shoes.
 
“I’ll eat in the kitchens.
 
It would probably be more proper for me to do so anyway.”
 

She cursed her own heart for allowing it to let her think for even the briefest of moments that she was worthy of dinning in the gathering room as a guest.

Damn! She had a way of pulling at his heart!
 
She’d lived a life he could not imagine and had been through one hellish ordeal the past weeks.
 
Duncan knew all too well how she must be feeling at the moment.
 
When he had come here as a boy, he had been in the same predicament. Not a damn thing to her name. Not even a stitch of clothing to call her own.
 

He pulled her chin up with his fingertips, forcing her to look at him. He had to tamp down the lust that shot up in his belly when he looked into those deep green eyes.
 

“Lass, yer dress was too ruined to be saved and it was thrown away.”
 
He could see a fire begin to form in her eyes as she began to protest.
 
“Ye’ve a new life here, Aishlinn.
 
One I’m sure will take some gettin’ used to.
 
I’ll see to it that ya have a suitable dress to wear. And I’ll no’ have ya argue that ye’ll no’ go.”

Aishlinn began to protest but stopped when the scowl came back to his face.
 
She was prepared to absolutely insist that she knew her true station and life and it did not involve grand meals in the gathering room.
 

“I’ll no’ hear anymore on the matter,” he told her firmly. ‘Twas then that her deep green eyes, brimming with tears, melted his heart like butter left in the sun.
 
“Twould be my great honor and privilege to have ya sit with me this night, Aishlinn.”
 

She could only nod her head, for his blue eyes were quite penetrating. And the way her skin felt, as if it were on fire, was the most peculiar sensation she had ever felt. She supposed it would do her no good to argue.
 
But tomorrow she would insist that things be put to normal, with her below stairs where she belonged.

“I’ll send Bree in to help ya, lass,” he said before turning and leaving the room. For the life of her she could not figure out why her legs shook and her heart skipped several beats as she watched him leave.
 

******

Bree returned to Aishlinn’s room as she had promised, her arms heavy with many dresses. She laid them upon the bed and began to hold each one up, twisting her lips, studying each one closely.
 

“These are some of Bridget’s old dresses,” she said, tossing aside a beautiful red gown.
 
“Bridget is me older sister, well one of my foster sisters. Mum and dad have helped to raise many. She’s married now and has a bairn. Bridgett lives in Ireland -- she married an Irishman! I ken she’ll not mind ya wearing them!”
 
She was prattling on so quickly that Aishlinn was having a difficult time keeping up and wondered from where on earth this girl drew her energy!

Aishlinn came to stand beside the bed and looked at the dresses.
 
They were indeed fine and magnificent gowns of all colors and styles.
 
Bree cried with glee when she found the one she’d been searching for.
 

“Tis the one ya should wear!” she said as she pulled a spectacular deep purple gown from the pile.
 
Made of very expensive silk with fine gold braiding around the collar and the sleeves, Aishlinn thought it far too grand and she could not imagine wearing it.

Holding up the dress next to Aishlinn, Bree said, “Aye, this is definitely the one. It brings out the green of yer eyes!”
 
Bree was far more excited about the notion than Aishlinn happened to be.
  

“I could not wear something so fine Bree!”
 
Aishlinn protested. “Perhaps you have something a little more plain?”
 
Plain girls, she thought to herself, do not wear such things and only the well-to-do and royalty wore silk! Peasants were relegated to wool or linen.

“Don’t be silly lass!
 
Of course ya can wear it.
 
Ya
must
wear it!” she smiled brightly. “The lads will be tripping over their tongues when they catch site of ya in this!” she giggled.

Back and forth they went with Bree insisting she wear the gown and Aishlinn insisting she shouldn’t.
 
Bree finally gave up and with a heavy sigh laid the dress upon the bed and walked out of the room.
 
Aishlinn sank onto the stool relieved that Bree was gone.
 
She hoped that she would return with a dress more fitting of Aishlinn’s standing in life.

Moments later Aishlinn looked up to find Duncan standing in the doorway.
 
“What’s this I hear about ye no’ wantin’ to wear a beautiful gown?” He was smiling. Aishlinn was trying to catch her breath as she sat frozen on the stool.
 
His smile had effect on her that she could not understand.

Duncan walked to the bed, picked up the purple gown and examined it closely. “Is the dress no’ to yer likin’?” he asked.
 

“Nay! It’s a fine dress.
 
I’ve never seen one more beautiful,” she told him.
 

“Then what be the problem?” he asked as he walked towards her.
 
Aishlinn stood, wishing she could run and hide, but he was blocking the door.
 
Why must he have that infernal smile upon his face?

When she did not answer, he walked closer to her.
 
“Why will ye no’ wear it?”

Aishlinn swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
 
“It is a fine dress.”

“Aye, that it is.” He took another step closer as Aishlinn took another back.

“It
is
a fine dress.” She knew not what else to say at the moment.
 
There was something about his smile that made her insides feel as though she had cat o’mountains wrestling inside it.
 
It apparently had an effect on her mouth as well, for she was unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence that would make any sense.

“Ya said that.” He was still smiling and continued to step towards her. Soon, she felt the wall against her back; she was trapped.

“Duncan,” she managed to whisper.
 
Her mouth had gone completely dry.

“Aye?” he said as he cocked an eyebrow.
 
He stood so closely that she could feel his warm breath upon her face.

While she rather enjoyed having him so near, there was a large part of her that wished he wasn’t.
 
His deep blue eyes and smile made it nearly impossible to breathe. “I’d not be deserving of wearing such a fine gown.”
 

His brow furrowed.
 
“What do ya mean
no’ deservin’
?”

“I’m not meant to wear such grand things, Duncan.”
 
She took a very deep breath.
 
“I’m a plain girl and I would look silly wearing such a thing.”
 

His scowl deepened. “Ye be far from plain lass. And I’ll no’ have ya saying yer plain again.”
 
     

The lass had no idea just how beautiful she truly was.
 
He cursed the fool that had convinced her otherwise. His voice and stance softened when he saw the fearful look in her eyes.
 
“I think ya’d look beautiful in such a gown.”

Aishlinn shook her head.
 
She knew he was just being kind and meant not what he was saying.
 
She began to protest further when he came so close to her that he was close enough to kiss.
 
She pushed the thought away as far as she could. It was a ridiculous notion.