“That be me daughter ye speak of Caelen McDunnah!” Angus growled through gritted teeth. The sunlight blazing in through the window glinted off the blade of the dirk.
“I’ll thank ye kindly to watch yer filthy tongue when ya speak of her.”
A flash of surprise, blended with a pinch of insanity Duncan supposed, flashed across the McDunnah’s eyes. He caught also a glimpse of fear, for Caelen McDunnah, while always eager to fight, was not quite crazy enough to take on Angus McKenna.
Caelen let out as much of a laugh as he could considering the firm grip Angus had on his throat.
“Aye.” He gasped for air.
Duncan was surprised at Angus’ words. He knew that Angus had met with Aishlinn earlier.
Duncan had been certain that Angus would have eventually accepted Aishlinn as his foster daughter, especially once he had the opportunity to get to know her. However, he had not expected for Angus to accept her so quickly, or so readily. His behavior confused Duncan.
Angus took his time letting the man down.
Caelen coughed and sputtered and gulped for air.
It took a few moments before he could speak.
Between coughs, the McDunnah attempted to apologize to Angus.
“I was told she be an orphan,” He coughed again.
Angus stared at the man for a moment before turning his attention to the rest of the room.
“Aishlinn is in fact me daughter.
Me blood daughter.” He looked at Duncan, whose eyes had grown wide with surprise.
“I’ve just learned of her return to me this day.
I thought her dead but by God’s grace, she has been returned to me.”
Duncan could not have been more surprised had Angus donned a dressed and gone skipping about the room claiming to be a faerie.
His next thought was of Aishlinn and how she must be taking the news and why she did not tell him. Then he remembered the fight between himself and Black Richard less than a half an hour ago and felt like a fool for not being there for her when she needed him most.
Caelen’s voice broke through the silence of the room.
“She be a chief’s daughter then?” He asked no one in particular.
He was merely thinking out loud.
“That would give the Buchannans even more reason to come for her.
They’ll be wantin’ to sell her to the man with the most coin.
And-” he held his hand up defensively towards Angus who was beginning to scowl at him again. “Dunna take this the wrong way, Angus. But they would.
And the English have far more coin than ye do.
Ye’ll need to be protectin’ the lass, tis certain. But I tell ya this,” he took a deep breath, “if the Buchannans get wind of yer daughter, Angus, they’ll most certainly be comin’ fer her.”
Rowan interjected.
“Angus, the McDunnah speaks the truth.” He glanced at Duncan who was working his jaw back and forth.
“We ken it.
We’ve got the English after her and soon, the Buchannans.
We must do everythin’ we can to keep Aishlinn safe from all of them.
But what?”
The room fell deathly quiet for a long moment.
‘Twas the McDunnah who finally spoke. He bore a wry grin on his lips and the twinkle of insanity had returned to his eyes.
“There be only one way to break a troth.”
He eyed Angus carefully.
It took only a moment for it to dawn on Angus where Caelen was headed.
“With another troth,” he murmured.
“Aye,” Caelen said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’d be more than willin’ to make the sacrifice for ye, my friend.
I’ll marry yer daughter. And I promise, to me dyin’ breath, I’ll protect her.
I’ll let not one Sassenach --nor a Buchannan -- anywhere near her. I swear it.”
Angus nodded his head thoughtfully for a moment.
“Tis true. Ye can break a troth with another. Or if the lass in question marries and the marriage is consummated.”
He ran his hand through his hair.
While Duncan knew every word that Angus spoke was the truth, he felt comfortable with the fact that Angus knew how Duncan felt about Aishlinn.
He also knew how Angus felt about Caelen and arranged marriages.
He was certain there would be no way Angus would agree to his daughter marrying Caelen McDunnah.
The next words out of Angus’ mouth nearly knocked Duncan to the floor.
“My daughter shall marry then.”
*****
Duncan swallowed hard.
It would be only over his dead body that he would allow any man to marry
his
Aishlinn. No matter that the reasons behind it were meant only to keep her safe.
She was his.
If he had to kidnap her and flee to the furthest reaches of the earth in order to protect her and keep her as his own, then so be it. They could call him a coward if they wanted, for running and hiding, but he did not care at the moment. He could not let any harm come to Aishlinn and he could not let any other man claim her as his own.
Before anyone could speak further, Duncan rose and raced from the room.
He bounded the stairs two at a time, raced down the hallway and flung open the door to her room.
She was sitting on her bed, huddled between Bree and Ellen, each of them with an arm wrapped around her as if they were holding her together.
Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and the look of dread and fear on her face caused his heart to seize.
His strong and fiery Aishlinn, the one he had helped to set free, was gone.
Before him sat the frightened and terrified lass he had rescued from a freezing stream not long ago.
Twould only get worse once she learned the earl was not dead and the lie of the troth came to light.
He wondered how she would respond once she also learned that below stairs her father sat with Caelen McDunnah and planned a marriage between them.
“Bree. Ellen. Leave us,” he said, not taking his eyes from Aishlinn.
The girls did not argue and left immediately. Duncan locked the door after them.
He knew he had but a minute before Angus and the others would be there. Knowing Angus, he’d bust down the door if he had to.
“Aishlinn.” His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands trembled.
He was never this afraid on the battlefield.
She stared at him, waiting and frightened.
He had to pull himself together before it was too late.
“We’ve no’ much time,” he began. “The English are looking for ye.”
She could not hold back the tears.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I meant not-” She choked on the tears as she scrambled from her bed.
“I’ll leave, straight away.”
She would rather live her life without him knowing he was safe, than to stay and have harm come to him, her family, or anyone else.
For a moment, he could not move.
Countless thoughts bombarded his mind and heart as he watched her rifle through her trunk.
A hard lump had formed in his throat that made it impossible to speak.
He had been right earlier; if she stayed he would be no good to anyone for all he’d be able to think of was her safety.
Aishlinn stood at the end of her bed, holding a few of her dresses against her chest.
All she could think of was stopping the battle that would most assuredly ensue if the English found her here.
They would show no mercy toward anyone who had given her refuge.
The only way to stop it would be to leave.
She searched the room with her eyes, wondering what she should put her things in for she had no satchels or bags.
As Aishlinn tried to figure out how to leave and where to go, Duncan remained motionless for only a moment longer.
She was mumbling something when he went to her. He took the dresses from her arms and tossed them onto the bed.
“Aishlinn. Listen to me, lass,” he whispered and wondered where to begin.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears and fear.
“The English be no’ here. Yet.” He grabbed her arms to gain her attention. “We’ve no’ much time,” he repeated. “I need ya to listen.
The earl be no’ dead.”
He wished he had had time to choose his words more carefully, but chances were that Angus was headed up the stairs ready to give Aishlinn the news that she had been trothed for. Again.
“Not dead?” She repeated.
“But I stabbed him.
Twice!” She found it impossible to believe the man had not died.
“Aye, I ken it!” Duncan needed her to stay focused and to listen.
“He lived.
His soldiers search for ye, lass.
They say the earl gave a troth for ye.”
The floor seemed to have disappeared and her legs turned to jelly.
If Duncan hadn’t been holding onto her she would have fallen over.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered before it hit her like a bolt of lightening.
Her brothers had to have accepted the troth.
Or else it was an outright lie.
Would the earl troth for her in order that he might legally take that which she would not give him?
Would he kill her after he had?
Certainly neither the church nor the king would recognize their marriage -- if it ever took place. She was not royalty, had no title or dowry.
She didn’t have a drop of ‘privileged’ English blood in her veins. She was a peasant.
It was a lie, a ruse and nothing more.
The knock at her door brought her back to the here and now.
Duncan gently squeezed her arms.
“Aishlinn. Angus and Caelen have a plan.” He was not sure if he could get the rest of the words out. “The only way to break a troth is to have ye marry someone else.”
For the first time in hours, she felt hope.
Was Duncan proposing? Even if he was and they did marry, it still wouldn’t solve the problem of the impending English invasion. She searched his eyes, looking for something to tell her more.
There was another knock at the door, much louder this time. She thought she heard Angus’ voice on the other side.
“Aishlinn, if ye marry another then ya canna be forced to marry the earl.”
She could only nod her head as she waited to hear him say the words.
But there was something in his eyes that told her there was more bad news.
“They want ya to marry Caelen McDunnah.” He nearly choked on the words.
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. Thunderstruck and aghast at the notion of marrying anyone but Duncan, she could not get her mouth to form words, until there was another, louder knock at her door.
It was definitely Angus on the other side and he did not sound pleased.
“Nay!” She nearly yelled it.
“I’ll not marry Caelen McDunnah!” She pulled from Duncan’s grasp and searched her trunk for her leather boots.
“I’ll no marry anyone but-” She stopped herself short.
She wouldn’t marry anyone but Duncan. But since he didn’t appear to want that responsibility at the moment, she decided that jumping from her window and running away was her only option.
“Marry me,” Duncan finally managed to say.
She had been tugging on a boot when he said it.
She stopped mid-pull and looked at him.