MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter (34 page)

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Authors: Suzan Tisdale

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter
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“I merely wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that I could use a bow and arrow.
 
But he would not listen, the stubborn fool!” Aishlinn said as she climbed the stairs.
 
“I only wanted him to listen to me, to listen to my idea, to hear me out, but he would not,” she said, holding a firm grip on her skirts as she tried not to fall down for her legs were still shaking.
 

“He told me not to shoot the arrow, but I did it anyway.”

“Ya mean ya shot it after he said no’ to?” Laren asked breathlessly, surprised at the young woman’s audacity.
 

“Aye, I did,” Aishlinn said trying to regain some of her resolve.

Mary whistled.
 
“No wonder he’s so mad at ya!”
 
Shaking her head as they walked down the hallway towards Aishlinn’s room.
 
“Were there men about when ya did it?”

“Aye,” Aishlinn said, pushing her shoulders back.

Laren opened the door to Aishlinn’s room and led them in.
 
“Why would ya do such a thing, lass?”

“He would not listen to me!” Exasperated by the entire incident, she sank down onto the stool near her fireplace.
 

Mary and Laren stood smiling at her and shaking their heads.
 
“Lass,” Mary began. “There be better ways of getting’ what ya want from a man.
 
Better n’ makin’ him so mad he locks ya away in yer room.”

Laren nodded her head in agreement.
 
“A lot more fun for the both of ya too!”
 

Aishlinn stared at them blankly for she had no idea on earth what they were talking about. “What do you mean?” she asked, growing more frustrated as each moment passed.
 
How dare he think he can order me around as if I were one of his men?

“Ya leave him
satisfied
with ya.”
 
Mary winked at her.

“Aye.
 
A man will give ya anything yer heart desires if ya’ve just left him feeling,” She searched for the right word.
 

Fulfilled.

 

Mary and Laren giggled but Aishlinn was too angry to make sense of it.
 
The women caught note of her confusion.

“Lass, it’ll do ya good to know, for future reference, that ye have more power over a man than ya realize.” She looked to Laren who nodded her confirmation.
 
“When ya’ve laid with yer husband, or yer man, and ya’ve just knocked the wind from him with a good bout of lovin’,
that’s
the time to ask fer what ya want.”

Aishlinn cocked her head and suddenly realized what the women meant.
 
Horrified, she said, “I’ve not done
that
with Duncan!”
 

How on earth could they even suggest such a thing? Especially right now.
 
The last thing she wanted at the moment was advice on the delicate intimacies between a man and a woman.
 
What she wanted was a large club with which to pound on Duncan’s skull.

They laughed at her.
 
“Lass, we ken ya haven’t!”
 
Laren said.
 
“Tis probably why Duncan be so frustrated of late!”
 
She and Mary burst out laughing again.
 

“Aye!” Mary agreed.
 
“Nothin’ can make a man more frustrated than not havin’
those
physical needs met!”

Laren smiled broadly.
 
“Aye!
 
Me Rupert?
 
If he goes more than just a few days without me attentions, he gets to be a beasty!”
 

Aishlinn was appalled.
 
“Do you mean to suggest that I,” she paused for she couldn’t say it aloud.
 
Foolish auld women. They think everything can be solved with a kiss or a tumble under the sheets.

Mary shook her head.
 
“Nay, lass.
 
We mean only to explain to ya one of the reasons Duncan might be a wee frustrated of late.”

“But ya must know too, lass, that ya canna defy him in front of his men,” Laren offered.
 
“Such a thing makes him look weak and he canna lead his men into battle if they dunna believe in him.
 
If a woman’s able to make him daft and weak in the knees and be allowed to walk all over him, well then, what of the enemy?”

Mary agreed.
 
“Tis true.
 
He has to at all times appear strong and firm in their eyes.
 
They must believe that he can lead not only them, but his clan as well.”

Mary came and put her hand on Aishlinn’s shoulder.
 
“Lass, we ken ye might not understand it all, but it be good advice we’re givin’ ya.” She patted her shoulder.
 
“When yer with Duncan and his men be around, ya do as he says without question.”

“But when yer alone, just the two of ya, and there be somethin’ ya want, ‘tis then that ya use yer feminine charms and beauty,” Laren explained.

Knowing these women were older and had been married many years, she could only believe that they knew more than she, not only on how to deal with a man, but how to please one as well.
  
There were countless questions she would have loved to have asked them, but didn’t have the courage. And she was still far too angry at the moment to think of a romantic interlude with Duncan.
 

“Now,” Mary said, taking Laren by the arm and heading towards the door, “ya let him calm himself a bit lass.
 
And when he comes to ye, ya apologize for yer behavior.”

Aishlinn began to protest as Mary held a hand to stop her.
 
“Lass, I ken ya think ya’ve done nothin’ wrong and maybe ya haven’t.
 
But listen to me on this.
 
Ya apologize, beg forgiveness and make a promise to him that ye’ll never argue in front of his men again.
 
That will help smooth things over.
 
There’s no sense in fightin’ over it, for ye’ll be the one to lose in the end.”
 
She smiled at her.
 

“Ask yerself this: do ya want to be right, and take a grand risk at losin’ him forever because ye be just as stubborn as he is? Or do ya swallow a wee bit of pride and keep him, and get to love him for the rest of yer days?”

Laren nodded her head in agreement and the two women left Aishlinn alone to ponder the advice they had offered.
 
Days ago she had sworn to herself that she would not bend, would not cower to any man ever again.
 

She stood and began to pace. Her mind told her that she should not back down nor should she allow Duncan, or any man for that matter, to see her fear.
 
For too many years she had allowed men to belittle her and frighten her into succumbing to whatever demands they might make of her and she refused to live that way again.

‘Twas her heart however, that told her that Mary and Laren were right on a few points.
 
And she knew deep down that Duncan’s intention had not been to be cruel or belittling towards her.

 
She did not want to risk losing Duncan, for she truly loved him.
 
She was certain that she could have searched the world over a hundred times and would never have met anyone like him. There would never be another man who could make her heart pound with excitement at the mere mention of his name.
 
There would be no other who could take her breath away with a simple kiss or a touch of his hand.
 
And there would never be another who would make her feel as safe, protected and cherished as she felt when she was with him. Save for when he was sorely angered with her.

More than likely as well, there would not be another that would drive her to anger with his obstinacy and stubbornness.
 
But no matter how angry she might be with him, she still loved him with all that she was.
 
Her heart truly belonged to him now, and perhaps that made it worth swallowing a bit of her pride.

 
Twenty-Three

 

Harry came rushing into the castle at a full run.
 
The guards had sent the young lad in to announce that Angus was home! The boy went crashing through the kitchens shouting the news at the top of his lungs.
 
“Angus be home! Angus be home!”

By the time the boy reached the third floor of the castle, he was covered in sweat and out of breath.
 
He pounded a fist upon Isobel’s door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited anxiously for the door to open.

Isobel had answered her door with a look of concern that was quickly replaced with a bright, beaming smile when Harry told her the news.
 
Excitement swelled over her for she had not expected Angus to return for another sinnight.
 
She missed her husband terribly and was glad for his return.
 
But when her thoughts turned to Aishlinn, a momentary dread washed over her. The time for truth telling was near. She sent a silent prayer up to the Good Lord to keep Angus from having apoplexy.
 

Isobel raced to Aishlinn’s room, where she had been sitting since the early morning.
 
Duncan had not yet sent word that she was free to leave for he was still quite upset with her.
 

Isobel bounded into Aishlinn’s room with the news.
 
“Aishlinn!
 
Angus is home!”
 
She said, breathless with excitement as she stood in the doorway.
 

Aishlinn’s heart skipped several beats before she was able to stand.
 
Fear enveloped her for her entire future would be decided this day. Would he send her back to the English? Both Duncan and Isobel had done their best to convince her that would not happen.
 
But until she heard it from the chief’s own mouth, she could not shake the fear from her heart.

“Please stay here, in yer room until I come for ya.
 
Do not leave, not even if someone comes to tell ya that Duncan has released ya. Do ya understand?” Aishlinn could sense apprehension in Isobel’s voice and it frightened her.

“Aye,” she said as her hands began to shake. Her stomach lurched at the thought that Angus would find her family straight away and send her to them.
 
She could not bear being sent away, not now, not ever.
 

Isobel saw the fear in Aishlinn’s eyes and came to hug her.
 
“All will be well, Aishlinn,” she smiled at her.
 
“There is no need to worry, lass.
 
Ye’ll not be sent away, I promise ya that.”
 
She gave her another hug before leaving the very frightened and doubtful Aishlinn standing alone in the middle of her room.

Aishlinn’s thoughts immediately turned to Duncan. Tears blurred her vision and a large lump formed in her throat. She loved him, more than she could have imagined was possible. She wrapped her arms around her chest and wished it were Duncan’s arms holding her now.
 

She needed to hear his voice, needed to hear him tell her that all was well. He had been her protector since the moment he had pulled her from the freezing water months ago, a lifetime ago.
 
Kneeling at the end of her bed, she prayed that he still loved her, even after the morning’s events.
 
She prayed as well that she’d not be sent away.

 

******

 

It was a striking sight to behold as more than forty horses came pounding through the castle walls, thirty riders in all these tall, strong-muscled men of the Clan MacDougall.
 
Some were shirtless; some wore trews, while others wore the plaids. All were covered with grit and grime from the many days they had travelled to return home. A good number of them appeared to be in their thirties and forties, still well-muscled and sound-bodied when one considered their ages.

The sound of all those hoofs clopping against the cobblestone courtyard, saddle gear jingling, and the people shouting out their welcome homes was nearly deafening.
 
Aishlinn stood in awe as she witnessed the return of Angus McKenna and his men.

Even from where she stood at the tall windows of her bedchamber, she could tell the man on the large stallion, surrounded by his men, was Angus.
 
Tall, well-muscled, his golden hair in braids at his temples, he sat tall and proud in his saddle. There was no doubt in her mind for there was only one whose strength seemed to radiate from somewhere within him, casting an aura of strength, honor and nobility.
 

A sea of very happy people, glad for the return of their men, soon engulfed them.
 
Wives and children came to greet their husbands and fathers and sons with tears in their eyes, relieved they had all returned safely home.

Her assumption that the man leading the group was Angus was clarified when she caught sight of Isobel and Bree rushing to embrace him.
 
He was taller even than Duncan and looked as though he could well hold his own in any battle. He wore a dark blue tunic and blue and green plaids similar to those Duncan wore. Dusty, travel-worn leather boots fit snuggly over massive legs. He was indeed a sight to behold.

It took a long while for the excitement to die down and the people allowed the men to pass.
 
She lost sight of Angus, and the others when they entered the castle.
 

With all the commotion that was taking place, Aishlinn was certain it would be many hours before Isobel would send for her.
 
Her heart ached with dread for her entire future lay in the hands of a man she had never met.

 

******

 

When Isobel and Angus were finally alone in their room, he carefully removed his broadsword and strap and laid them upon a table.
 
Exhausted from riding hard for days, he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed and stretched his legs out before him.
 
Before he could remove his boots, Isobel sat down on the floor and began tugging them off.

“Woman!
 
I’ve told ya countless time I’m perfectly capable of takin’ off me own boots!”
  
Isobel smiled at him and said nothing as she tugged a few times before the first boot came free.

“But ya dunna listen to me, do ya?” There was a twinkle to his green eyes, and a loving smile upon his face.
 
He knew not what he would ever do if anything happened to his wife.
 
She was his entire life and without her, he was nothing.

Isobel had to tug harder at the second boot, and when it finally relented, she lost her balance and fell backwards.
 
“Isobel!” he shouted as he tried
to grab her before she fell, but missed.

She lay on her back, laughing as she tossed the boot away. He smiled when he realized she was fine and he slithered from the bed and straddled her, gently holding her wrists to the floor.
 
“Just where I’ve been wantin’ ya for weeks now,” he said with a wink.

“Ya need a bath husband, and fresh clothes and a hot meal,” she said.
 
“There will be time for
that
later. Ye’ve much to tend to.”

He had missed his wife far too much to worry about anything but spending a few precious moments with her.
 
“Aye, but ye are the first thing that I wish to
tend
to, my love.”

He bent and kissed her sweetly, his lips pressing tenderly against hers.
 
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss, blissfully glad that he was home.
 
She tried telling herself that it would only be a few simple kisses she would give him before insisting that he bathe, eat and tend to very important business.

Soon the kiss deepened, the passion swelling from deep within them both.
 
Angus’ breathing began to quicken and his heart pounded ferociously against his chest.
 
Married these many years now, he still held a fiery want and need of his wife.
 
Too many nights spent apart of late had left each of them with a deep longing and need of the other.

They began to pull and tug at each other’s clothing, desperate to feel the other’s skin pressed against their own. Eager hands searching, touching, and needing the other to know how much they had been missed.

Before either realized it, they were lost in a frenzied session of lovemaking that would quench the desire that had been building for sinnights. But it would quench it only for a short while.
 
They had many weeks of being apart to make up for.

Afterwards, they lay upon the floor tangled up in one another’s arms with sweat covered brows and gasping for air.
 
They both knew the satisfaction they felt at the moment was only temporary.
 
Later they would take their time at it and might be locked away in their room for a day or two.


Now
will ya bathe and eat, husband?” Isobel giggled as she laid her head upon Angus’ chest.

“Aye.
 
But only if ya promise to bathe with me,” He said as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
 
The image of his wife sharing a tub with him floated in his mind and brought a smile to his face.
 

Isobel shook her head, smiled and sat up. “Yer nearly as insatiable now as ye were when ya were younger!”

“Tis only because ya’ve grown even more beautiful!”
 
‘Twas true, he thought.
 
She had grown even more beautiful over the years.
 

When he tried to pull her to him again, she resisted the temptation.
 
“As much as I would like nothing more than to join with ya again and again for the next sinnight or two, there
are
important things ya do need to see to, Angus.”
 
She bent and kissed him on his forehead.
 
“Tend to those things and I promise, we’ll not leave our room for the next few days if that is what ya wish.”

Knowing well that she would make good on her promise, he jumped to his feet as he helped her up.
 
“Verra well then. But let’s get these matters dealt with quickly,” He said as a wry smile came to his face.
 
“I’ve much more I want to do with ya.”

 

******

 

 

Isobel had decided to have Duncan speak with her husband first.
 
She felt it best that he give his account of how they had come upon Aishlinn and why they had brought her here.
 
She would have time to talk with her husband afterwards.
 

Isobel’s hands began to shake at thinking of what would be taking place in a very short time.
 
As she stood alone in her bedchamber, she poured herself a dram of Angus’ best whiskey in hopes that it would calm her nerves.
 
It helped to only temporarily quell her worry. She thought of partaking another dram but knew she’d be no use to anyone if she got too far into her cups.
 
Very soon Angus was going to need her strength and she his.
  

Duncan waited for his uncle to bathe, don fresh clothes and eat before speaking with him.
 
Angus’ private room seemed far too small for such a large man, but still it seemed to suit him.
 
The room had tall windows, much like the other rooms in the castle.
 
Heavy blue drapes were pulled back and let in an ample amount of sunlight.
 
A low fire burned steadily and crackled in the huge stone fireplace.
 
Heavy shelves lined the walls and were filled with books and maps and mementos.
 
A massive desk sat in front of the windows and that is where Duncan found Angus sitting when he entered the room.

“Duncan, my boy!” Angus said, glad to see him.
 
He remained seated, tired and worn from the many days mounted upon a horse.
 
“Isobel tells me ya’ve something important to discuss with me,” his deep voice resonated through the room like thunder.

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