The Clan MacDougall Series (38 page)

It did not take long for her father to start acting fatherly. She nearly shook out of her slippers when he boomed his order. Under different circumstance she would have protested vociferously. But with feeling as though the wind had just been knocked from her sails she did not have the strength or the courage to test him.

Duncan tugged at her arm. “It’s the English isn’t it?” she asked, the fear in her voice quite evident.

No one had to say a word for the looks upon each of their faces was enough to confirm her fears. Duncan led her up the stairs and to her room. “Lass, ’twill be all right. Do no’ worry. Just stay here and I’ll send Bree to ye.” He left quickly without uttering another word. She promptly went to her private privy and retched.

Duncan could tell from the serious expressions upon his men’s faces that nothing they were about to say would be good news. Rowan was waiting for him in the gathering room.

“What in the name of God is going on?” Duncan demanded as he barreled through the halls towards the private meeting room.

“I dunna ken, Duncan. All Richard and Findley would say was that they had word on the English and Aishlinn.”

Duncan flung the door open to the war room and saw his men huddled near the end of the large table. The McDunnah sat at one end of the table to Angus’ left. Several of the McDunnah’s men stood behind him, arms crossed, curious expressions upon their faces.

“What’s happened?” Duncan asked. He was not afraid of the English, he was afraid for Aishlinn.

Richard came to stand beside him. “I’ve word on the English,” he said. “And Aishlinn.”

“Tell me!” Duncan shouted.

“Duncan!” Angus boomed. “Calm yerself lad or I’ll have ye removed.”

Duncan took a deep breath and nodded his head, first to Angus then to Richard. He did not doubt for a moment that Angus wouldn’t make good on his promise.

“Findley and I went to Dunblane for supplies,” Richard began. “We were in a tavern having an ale when some English soldiers came in. Findley and I got close enough to listen.” He paused for a moment knowing that what he was about to tell Duncan was not good news. “They be looking for Aishlinn.”

Duncan’s heart went cold. “Yer certain?” he asked calmly.

“Aye,” Findley said. “Green-eyed beauty with blonde hair cut short.”

“How many men?” Angus asked as his face paled.

“There were only a few in the tavern. We left immediately. Did not even bother to get the supplies. As we traveled back, we caught sight of several campfires.” Richard recounted the event while he watched Duncan closely.

“We got as close as we could. There looked to be at least a hundred.”

Duncan’s jaw clenched as his hands balled into fists. A hundred English soldiers sent to look for one young woman? It made no sense they would send that many. His mind raced as he thought of Aishlinn and what Angus would do. It felt as if the earth was giving way under his feet. Slowly he sat down in the nearest chair.

“Duncan,” Findley said. “They be a day and a half away.”

He could not speak for his mind was racing with how quickly he could get Aishlinn to safety. There was not a cowardly bone in his body. He was not running from the fight. Once he got Aishlinn to a safe place, he could then concentrate on the fight. If he had to worry over her, he would be no use to anyone.

“Duncan,” Richard said. “There be more.”

Angus and Duncan looked to him. “In the tavern, the English were speaking of a troth.”

A deep crease came to Duncan’s forehead. “A troth?” he asked perplexedly.

“The soldiers said the earl had given a troth to her family but she had run away.” He paused to let the words sink in. “The earl be no’ dead Duncan.”

Duncan shot up from his chair. “What do ye mean, the earl be no’ dead?”

His chest tightened. Intense white-hot anger burned spots in front of his eyes and his palms began to sweat. Duncan did not doubt that Aishlinn had stabbed the earl as she said she had. But she had been wrong to believe he had died from his wounds.

Findley walked to him. “He evidently survived the stabbin’, Duncan. They’re sayin’ the earl has given a troth for her hand. They’re saying he misses her dearly and wants his beloved returned as soon as possible.” He paused for a moment. “He’s offerin’ a reward to anyone who returns the lass to him.”

Duncan’s mind whirled. His first thought was of Aishlinn and how she would respond to the news. Aye, she had become stronger over the past sennights, blossoming into a fine, strong woman. But that strength had been built partly on the premise that the earl was dead and no one had been looking for her to punish her for the crime of killing him. Would learning that the whoreson wasn’t dead and the English were in fact looking for her be enough to destroy the woman she had become?

The earl was alive and had given a troth for Aishlinn’s hand in marriage? There could be no truth to it. The troth was merely a ruse, a lie told to either convince or entice those who did not know the whole truth to aid in finding her. He would kill the bastard before he would allow Aishlinn to be returned to him.

His thoughts then turned to the three brothers. They had traded her to work at Firth without her knowledge or consent. It was quite feasible that they would have entered into a marriage arrangement without her knowing or consenting to that as well. He would kill the earl first, then the three brothers.

A buzzing sensation began to build in his ears. He could not lose her now.

“Well now, this changes things a bit, don’ it?” Caelen McDunnah offered. A curious smile had come to the man’s face and Duncan was not quite sure what to make of it.

“What do ye mean, Caelen?” Angus asked, turning to face him.

The McDunnah tilted his head. “If the Buchannans get wind of this, they’ll be after the lass fer certain. They’ll want to ransom her back to the earl. There probably would be no amount of coin the earl wudna pay to get her back.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “There’ll be no safe place fer the lass to go.”

Every man in the room thought on that for a moment. This did not bode well for any of them. One of the McDunnah’s men, a stocky man with a bald, tattooed head and a full, long red beard spoke up. “Why should we be goin’ up agin the English or the Buchannans for this lass?” he asked bluntly, looking at the MacDougall men who stood across the table from him.

Caelen McDunnah threw his head back and laughed boisterously for a long moment. “God’s bones, man! Have ye seen the lass?” He shook his head and whistled.

“She be a damned beautiful young thing! Beautiful enough she could make a grown man cry with wantin’ her. ’Tis probably why the earl wants her so.” He shot a wicked glance towards Duncan who was slowly making his way around the table.

The logical thinking part of Duncan’s mind told him it would do no good to start a battle with the McDunnah. But his heart beckoned him to defend Aishlinn’s honor against anyone who would defile it or speak out of turn regarding her, even a supposed ally.

“If the lass weren’t already taken, I wouldn’t mind a go at her meself! A lass as beautiful as that makes a man’s bones ache with want! And it be the quiet ones that fool ye. They be the ones full of hidden passions that can set a man’s teeth on edge!” He was laughing again, apparently enjoying the effect he was having on Duncan.

There was very little time for Duncan to act. He had taken no more than a half a step towards the McDunnah when Angus bolted upright out of his chair, took a firm hold of the man’s throat with his right hand, lifted him off his chair, and pinned him against the wall.

He had moved so quickly that no one had seen him pull his dirk until they saw it firmly pressed against the McDunnah’s throat. It had taken only a moment or two however before every man in the room had pulled a dirk or a sword, one side pointing their weapons at the other.

“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 ye 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 dress 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 ye 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 farthest 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.