MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter (20 page)

“I know. And thank you,” she said knowing the sooner she got a closed door between the two of them the better.
 
She pulled on the latch and opened the door.
 

“Have ye enough blankets?” he asked.
 

She looked at him curiously.
 
“Aye, I do,” she said as she stepped inside her room.

“Would ya like help with yer fire?”

“Nay. Thank you, but I do know how to stoke a fire.”
 
She thought he was acting a bit peculiar and wondered if perhaps he had not partaken of too much ale.

“Well, if ya’ve need of me, I be next door.”

“I know and thank you again.” When he made no effort to leave she asked, “Is that all Duncan?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Aye.”

“Well then, I shall bid ya good night.” She closed her door and let out the breath she had been holding.
 
It was going to take monumental efforts to keep her mind from wandering whenever she was near him.
 
The bigger trick would be in trying to figure out how to keep her palms from sweating and her knees from knocking together at the mere sight of him.

******

I’m an eejit!
Duncan cursed as he plodded to his room.
 
A daft, foolish eejit!
 
I have got to get these thoughts and feelings under control or I’m going to make a complete fool of myself.
 
He removed his tunic and plaids and tossed them onto the chair by his bed.
 
It was becoming increasingly difficult to be near her without grabbing the lass and kissing her full on the lips.
 

Naked, he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. His mind wandered from thoughts of what he wanted to do to thoughts of what he should do.
 
He wanted to tell her he was growing more and more fond of her as each hour of each day passed.
 
He wanted to hold her and whisper in her ear how beautiful he thought she be. He wanted to take her in his arms and begin a kiss that would last for a lifetime.
 

But he knew that what he should do was leave her alone.
 
He should step away and allow her to make an abundant amount of friends and have a good life.
 
But his heart grew heavy at the thought of her finding a man who would woo her and earn the heart he wanted desperately to have as his own.
 
He had noticed the number of eyes that had stared at her through most of the night and he had not liked it.
 

She was a beautiful young woman and Duncan knew she’d not have any problems with finding a suitor.
 
Trouble was, he did not think he could stand the thought of anyone but himself in that position.
 
He prayed that Angus would be home soon before he lost his mind completely.
   

Frustrated, he climbed into his bed and tried to sleep, but sleep would evade him this night. Each time he closed his eyes her sweet smiling face and dark green eyes stared back at him.

He tried to concentrate on things he needed to do on the morrow, such as sparring with his men.
 
But when he thought of that, he thought of Tall Gowan and Manghus who were by now in their cottages and in bed with their wives.
 
Duncan wanted what they had; a wife, bairns, and a life filled with much love and laughter.
 

These thoughts and desires were completely foreign to him. Until the last several days he had always fancied himself a free spirit. He had never wanted to be tied down with the responsibilities of a wife or bairns.
 
He had always enjoyed being able to come and go as he pleased.
 
The lasses he had shared his bed with were too numerous to count, but there had been not one who held his attention for more than a few hours. And there had not been one who had made him want anything from them beyond meeting his physical needs.

Now he lay here in the late hours of the night unable to think of anyone but Aishlinn and he felt like a damned fool.
 
She was nothing like any woman he had ever known.
 
She was innocent and pure but with a fire and a spirit that the foolish men in her life had nearly destroyed.
 
She was not afraid to speak her mind but was ever mindful not to insult anyone.
 

And the way she flushed red from head to toe whenever a compliment was given to her!
 
Och! Such sweetness!
 

More than bonny, the girl was damned beautiful. She was not like the buxom and curvaceous women he had preferred in the past.
 
Nay, she was slender and slight, a wee thing really, with fine, delicate features.
  

The deepest of green eyes she had. There was much pain and fear in them, too much he supposed.
 
But there was something else that lingered just behind the surface, something that begged to be set free.
 
Passion and desire, aye, but not in the romantic or physical sense; nay, ‘twas something deeper and more precious than that.
 
There was something in her that wanted to be more than she had not what people demanded her to be ever been allowed to be and that was what he wanted to give her.
 
The freedom to be who she really was and.
 

Though her hair was shorter than even his own it was the color of spun gold, soft and thick.
 
He imagined running his hands through it while he kissed her delicate lips. He wanted to touch every inch of her creamy skin while leaving behind a trail of kisses with his lips.
 
His body ached with wanting to press her close to his chest and to hear her soft, tender sighs of contentment.
 
He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her.

He tried to think of all the other women he knew and not one who came to mind filled his heart with the kind of feelings he held for Aishlinn. Aye, they were fine women and they would make any man a good wife.
 
But they were not Aishlinn.

Duncan very much wanted to take away all her bad memories and replace them with happy ones. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe.
 
He wanted to prove to her that not all men were evil whoresons.
 
He wanted to give her a life that his heart knew she deserved.

Aye, those were the things he wanted to give to her, but how? Did he step aside and allow someone else, some other man, to give her those things she deserved? Or did he remain selfish and insist upon doing it himself? He did not know if he could live without her if he let her be.
 
And he did not know if he could live with himself if he didn’t.

Duncan had made the only decision he felt as right and honorable. He would stay away from Aishlinn as much as possible, letting Bree and Isobel take her under their wings.
 
He would, however, maintain a very watchful eye over her.
 
The moment it appeared anyone else might step into the shoes he wanted to fill, he would act.

For more than a sinnight, he had spent his days with his men, sparring and practicing more zealously than normal, even for him, and his afternoons tending to the responsibilities of acting chief.
 
He would pretend to be busier than he actually was, thereby conveniently missing the evening meals in the gathering room, which in turn kept him away from Aishlinn.

On several occasions, he had seen her walking the grounds with Bree and Isobel.
 
She had smiled and waved at him, apparently pleased to see him.
 
Duncan however had given her only a cursory nod of his head and had immediately fled in the opposite direction.
 
While his heart ached at the sight of her, he had convinced himself ‘twas the right and proper thing to do.

As the days grew longer and warmer he saw less and less of her wandering the grounds.
 
Seeing Bree walking alone one afternoon he stopped to speak with her.
 
He could tell something was the matter for the normally happy and energetic Bree was not smiling at him.
 
In fact, she looked down right angry the moment she laid eyes on him.
 

“What be the matter, lass?” he asked.
 

Her pursed lips and furrowed brow were good indicators as to how angry she was.
 
“As if ye dunna ken!” she said. For a moment he thought might need to run or take cover, for she was certainly displeased with him.
 
He had not a clue what he had done to make her angry. “But I do no’ ken, ’tis why I asked.”

Lowering her voice she said, “Ye’ve broken Aishlinn’s heart is what ye’ve done ye daft eejit!” she said, poking his chest with her finger.

Duncan was stunned for he could not imagine what he’d done to cause her to say such a thing. The opposite sex, though quite intriguing, beguiling and wondrous, often left him in a state of utter confusion.

Bree could tell from his confounded expression that he did not understand.
 
“Ya fool! Ya bring the lass here and then abandon her.
 
Ya dunna speak to her. Ya dunna ask her how she gets along or what she does with her days.
 
Ya avoid her at every turn.
 
How do ya suppose that makes her feel?” She put her hands on her hips and looked thoroughly disappointed in him.

Duncan had not intended to hurt Aishlinn’s feelings. He had merely been stepping out of her way to allow her time and to give her room to grow.
 
He had been protecting her.
 
“I meant no’ to do that.” He could not explain to Bree the reasons behind his decision.
 

“Well, whether ya meant to or no’ ’tis what has happened.
 
The poor girl thinks she’s done something to offend or anger ya.”

“Tisn’t true!” Duncan protested. “She’s done nothing.”
 
His stomach began to fill with intense guilt.

 
 
“Matters no’ Duncan.
 
How do ya think she should feel when ye dunna say even so much as ‘good day’ to her?”

“I meant only to give her time to make friends, to allow her to heal.” That much was true.

“And why can’t she still have ya as a friend while she makes new ones?”

He knew the real reasons why that would not work.
 
When he was near her it was all he could do to hold himself in. It was for her own good he had avoided her.

  
“Ya need to go and tell her that she’s done nothing wrong and that yer just an eejit fool of a man,” Bree told him.

A look that resembled horror washed over Duncan’s face.
 
He did not know how he could apologize without explaining the reasons for what he had done.
 
No good could come of it, he was certain.

“Duncan, she thinks ye’ve only brotherly affections for her,” Bree said, though she knew better. “And I’ve said nothin’ to the contrary,” Bree had her suspicions about Duncan’s true feelings, but they were just that, suspicions.
 
She had kept them to herself until now.

“I dunna ken what ya speak of,” He scowled at her. He would admit nothing, at least not now and not to Bree.
 
His feelings were his own and he’d deal with them the best way he could.

Bree softened, not wanting to make matters worse between Duncan and Aishlinn.
 
“Duncan, go to the lass. Tell yer sorry and that she’s done nothing wrong.
 
She stays in her room now and does no’ leave.
 
She says she feels no’ well,”

His protective instincts took hold of him. “No’ well?” he asked.
 
“Does she have the fevers?” If she were ill, he would make certain that great care was given to her.
 

Bree suppressed the urge to smile and instead chose to put a look deep concern on her face.
 
Aishlinn had fevers all right, but not the kind Duncan was thinking.

“I dunna ken, just that she has no’ left her room since two days past.
 
She stays in her bed and does not eat.” She knew Duncan would go to her straight away if he thought Aishlinn ill.
 
She was right for he dashed away without so much as a “good day” as he ran to the castle.
 
Bree knew ‘twas, perhaps, a devilish thing to have done, lying to Duncan as she had.
 
But she had good intentions and knew in her heart ‘twas the right thing.
 
She tried to hide her smile as she went in search of Findley.

******

Duncan raced to the castle entrance, through the large gathering room and bounded up the stairs two at a time.
 
He had made a terrible mistake by removing himself so completely from Aishlinn’s life.
 
Now she lay in her bed ill and ‘twas all his fault.
 
If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

Not bothering to knock, he flung the door open, scaring the devil out of Aishlinn.
 
He stood in the doorway, out of breath, his forehead covered with sweat.
 
It wasn’t the run that had done him in; it was his worry over Aishlinn.

The most confounded expression came to his face when he saw that she wasn’t lying in her bed at death’s door.
 
She had been sitting in a chair near the open windows, but when he came crashing through the door he had startled her so much that she jumped up and knocked the chair over.

“Duncan!” she yelled at him.
 
“What on earth is the matter?” Her first thought was that perhaps the castle was under attack and he was here to take her to safety. Her second thought, when she saw the confused look he held, was that he had lost his mind.

“Yer no’ ill.” He was surprised and relieved. He also realized he had been lied to. Bree had tricked him.
 
He made a silent promise to remember to repay her some day.

“Nay!
 
I’m not ill. Who told you that I was?”
 
Confused and slightly perturbed, she straightened the chair and placed it back near the window.

“I’m sorry. I was misinformed.”

“Is that why you came bursting in here? Because you thought I was ill?” she asked him.

“Aye, I did.”
 
He was trying to steady his breathing as well as his anger at Bree for lying to him.

Aishlinn studied him for a brief moment before she pursed her lips together and put her fists on her hips. God, how he had missed her, had missed that fire in her eyes.
 
She shook her head and turned away from him and mumbled something under her breath.
  

“What was that, lass?”

“I said,
a lot you care
!”
 
She shot at him from over her shoulder. She couldn’t look at him at the moment and kept her eyes glued to the land outside her windows. If she looked at him now, he might see the heartbreak hidden beneath her anger. She’d not give him that satisfaction.

“But I do care.” More than she knew.

“Is that why,” she said, finally turning to look at him, “you have avoided me at all costs for the past sinnight? Is it because you care that you turn and run the other way when you see me? Is it because you care that you do not even say ‘good day’ to me?” She was angry and not afraid to let him know it.

“I’ve have been busy with me duties and responsibilities.”
 
He was flustered and knew the conversation they were about to have would not end well for him.

“Well then, I would not want to keep you from all those important duties and responsibilities.
 
With whom do I speak, Laird McEwan, about making an appointment with you? There is something important I wish to discuss with you,” she seethed. Duncan was certain he detected a bit of hurt to her voice.
 
“At
your
convenience Laird McEwan,” she said as she curtsied elegantly before him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her.
 
Normally that would have been enough to cause her to back down from him.
 
This day it did not work for she stood resolutely before him determined to hold her ground. “I have time now.
 
What is it you wish to speak to me about?” he asked.

Cupping her hands together, she stood her ground as firmly as she could. “I wish to leave the comforts of your castle.” In all reality it was the last thing she wanted to do, but Duncan had left her no choice.
 

She could have stripped herself naked and begun flying about the room and he would not have been nearly as shocked as he was at the news that she wished to leave.
 

“What? Leave here? Why? Where will ya go?”
 
He did not like the idea of her leaving and he would not allow it.

“I do not know. I am told I might be able to acquire a position as a scullery maid at another castle with another clan. I have worn out my welcome with you, therefore I wish to leave.”

“Who told ya that ye’ve worn out yer welcome with me?” he demanded.
 
He would knock the fool right on his arse for spreading such lies.

She cocked her head slightly and looked at him as if he were daft.
 
“You.”
 

“Me?” he asked quite dumbfounded before the truth of the matter dawned in his rather thick skull.
 
It wasn’t what he had said; it was what he had done.

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm himself.
 
“Ya’ve no’ worn out yer welcome here. I’m quite glad to have ya here, Aishlinn, and I’ll no’ allow ya to leave.”

If she could have picked up something and thrown it at him she would have. At the moment she was far too stunned and far too angry to do anything but stand with her mouth agape.
 
“What do you mean you’ll not
allow
me to leave? Am I your prisoner?”

Perhaps he could have chosen a better way to put it but it was too late now. “Nay, yer no’ my prisoner, yer me guest, and ye’ll remain my guest until Angus returns.
 
Now I’ll hear no more of ya leavin’.”
 
He started to walk away but she stopped him.

“Pardon me,
m’laird
, but if this is how you treat your
guests
, then I’d prefer not to have that privilege thrust upon me. I wish to leave.”

If he had to put her in shackles and throw her in the oubliette to keep her from leaving, he would.
 
“Nay.
 
Ye’ll no’ be leavin’.”