The Clan MacDougall Series (73 page)

“Och! Lass, what can I do to help?” Oribilia stood and threw her shoulders back. “I’ll stab Malcolm Buchannan in his cold, evil heart fer what he’s done! I’ve horses! We can ride to his keep together!”

Oribilia was quite ready to lead the charge against Malcolm Buchannan. Findley and Patrick looked at each other, surprised to find there was yet another woman who apparently had no fear of raising arms against the Buchannan clan.

A sudden image crashed into Findley’s mind. In it, he was leading a thousand women and children, all armed with rocks. They charged the Buchannan keep with the same fierceness and determination he and his men held. He shook the thought away, for there was no way on God’s earth he’d allow any woman, least of all Maggy, to go up against such an evil group of men.

Finding his voice, he leaned in a bit closer. “Ladies,” he began softly, afraid for his own life for Oribilia was looking at him with bloodlust in her eyes. “While we appreciate ye wantin’ to get Ian back, I believe it will take more than just the six of us. We’d be needin’ more men to help.”

Oribilia looked at him as if he had just fallen from the sky. “Do ye no’ think women capable of fightin’?” It was a direct challenge and he knew there was no way of winning.

“Aye, I do!” he answered quickly. “But I’ll need more than two women. The Buchannan are at least one hundred strong. While I’m sure ye’d do well against them, I think it would be best for everyone if we had reinforcements.” He hoped his answer would placate her. Or at the least get her to remove the look of disgust she wore on her face.

Oribilia turned back to Maggy. “Who be the eejit?” she asked as she nodded her head toward Findley.

Maggy turned her lips in to keep from laughing as she saw Findley stand taller, affronted by Oribilia’s insult.

“Sister, be kind. These men have sacrificed much to help me. This be Findley McKenna and his friend Patrick,” she introduced them.

Once the introductions were complete, Maggy steered the conversation back toward Oribilia’s safety. “Sister,” she said with a smile. “I ken ye mean well to help. But I fear that if anything happened to ye, or yer children, Roald would never find it in his heart to forgive me. He’s a stubborn man, ye ken it as well as I. But he loves ye that much we ken. Please, will ye no’ leave until he returns? Keep yerself and the children safe?”

Oribilia studied Maggy for a moment, turning it over in her mind. After a time, she nodded her head. “I’ll have word sent to Roald when he returns. The children and I can stay with me sister and her family in Renfrew.”

She thrust her hands on her hips. “Are ye sure ye can trust these men of yers?”

Maggy smiled, a full smile that showed her straight white teeth. “Aye, I trust them with me life and the lives of me sons.” She resisted looking directly at Findley when she said it. She could only hope he would believe the sincerity of her words.

Findley’s heart swelled with pride. He hoped she meant what she said and wasn’t merely saying it to appease Oribilia. He was grateful that Maggy felt safe enough with Oribilia to speak openly with her. While he might not have all the answers, he was beginning to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together.

Maggy stood and hugged Oribilia. Neither wanted to let go of the other.

“Maggy, promise me ye’ll be safe?”

“Aye, I promise,” Maggy whispered into Oribilia’s hair. “And ye as well sister. I fear ye must hurry and get to yer sister’s home, quickly. Malcolm Buchannan is capable of anything.”

Oribilia pulled back and looked into Maggy’s eyes. “Lass, I couldna stand to lose ye again. It nearly killed me last time.”

Maggy smiled, holding back tears. “I love ye, Oribilia. I be glad to call ye sister.”

The women hugged briefly before pulling away. Maggy carefully covered her hair with the hood of the cloak before being led out of the house. As they walked down the pathway, Maggy prayed that God would keep Oribilia and her children safe.

Richard had remained hidden in the corner of the inn keeping a close eye on the three Buchannan men who sat huddled on the other side of the room. None of the men looked pleased but Richard shrugged off their demeanor as being typical for Buchannan men.

Findley, Maggy and Patrick had been gone for a quarter of an hour. Richard prayed they would not encounter any trouble while they ventured to her brother’s home. The hairs on the back of his neck had been standing at full attention for days now, unrelenting, full of warning. He would not rest easy until they were in Aberdeen. And then only if Angus had sent the additional men Findley had pleaded for in his missive.

As he sat in the dark corner, he wondered if any of this would be worth it in the end. He imagined his brother would feel like a damned fool if, when all was said and done, the fair Maggy would have no interest in him. Richard shook his head at the notion. Two people who argued like Maggy and Findley were meant for each other. Richard imagined that if they could be as passionate about loving one another as they were at arguing, they’d have a long, happy life together.

A short time later the three men stood up from their table. Richard’s hand went instinctively to the hilt of his sword. He pretended to stare at the mug of ale, attempting to blend in and go unnoticed.

One of the men tossed a coin on the table before they sauntered toward the door and left. Richard counted to twenty before he stood and left to follow them.

With Maggy in the middle, Findley and Patrick remained vigilant and watchful as they walked back to the inn. Findley stayed as close to Maggy as possible so as not to draw any unwanted attention to the shackles that bound them together.

Patrick spotted them first. Just two blocks from the inn, he saw the two Buchannan men as they rounded a corner. Without missing a step he spoke quietly and calmly to Findley. “Do ye see them, Findley?”

Findley followed Patrick’s gaze. Up ahead and coming toward them were two Buchannan men. Maggy tensed as Findley and Patrick scanned the area for more Buchannans as well as a quick escape.

Findley knew there had been three that Richard had been watching back at the inn. He had not seen those men so he could not be sure if the men walking toward them were part of that trio or if they were two more.

“Findley,” Maggy whispered as she slowed her pace.

Findley and Patrick knew they’d draw more attention if they stopped abruptly so they pulled her along. “Relax, Maggy. Do nothin’ to bring attention to us.”

Just a few steps ahead Findley spied a sign over a shop door indicating it was a dressmaker and haberdashery. “Into the shop, Patrick,” Findley said with a nod of his head.

While Patrick led the way, Findley glanced toward the Buchannan men who were rapidly advancing. It didn’t appear as though they had been seen, but Findley wouldn’t feel any sense of relief until he had Maggy safely back in their room.

Findley guided Maggy to the rear of the shop while Patrick pretended to look at the fine dresses near the window. Pulling Maggy to his side, his hand on the hilt of his sword, he gave a quick survey of their surroundings.

An older man, apparently the shopkeeper, stood behind the long counter and conversed with an older woman. Apparently she was a noblewoman for she had two maids in her attendance. Both looked bored and solemn as they stood behind and to the side of the older woman.

More people were scattered throughout the large store, looking at the fine fabrics, discussing dresses, shoes, and other mundane things in which Findley had absolutely no interest. Tall shelves that sat in the middle of the shop blocked most of his view.

As he peered through a small opening in the shelves to get a better look at the front of the shop, he heard his name being called. And it was not Maggy who spoke it.

“Findley!”

He whirled around, shoving Maggy behind him for protection. Before he realized it, Patrick was standing beside him with a smile on his face.

“What are ye doin’ here?” the woman asked as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a firm hug.

“Aishlinn?” he asked, puzzled by her presence in the shop. He had said goodbye to her and Duncan more than two sennights ago. Why was she here?

She pulled away from him, her bright smile beaming at him as she hugged Patrick and patted him on the back.

“What are ye doin’ in Dundee? I thought ye were goin’ to find yer beautiful Maggy and her boys and take them back to Gregor?” Her look was a blend of confusion and disappointment.

Maggy had reflexively drawn into herself, hiding behind Findley and Patrick. She had been terrified to see the Buchannan men moments ago and had been searching the shop for a means of escape. Her fear was momentarily displaced when she saw this strange, beautiful woman hugging Findley.

Yer beautiful Maggy? Who was this woman, Maggy wondered. And how does she know of me? Maggy stood on her tiptoes and tried to get a better look at the woman. But Findley and Patrick were so tall that it was impossible, even on her tiptoes.

“I could ask the same question of ye!” Findley said as he smiled down at Aishlinn. Her belly had grown since last he saw her. He could not fathom why she was so far from home in her condition.

Aishlinn caught Findley’s glance at her belly and smiled. “Yer nearly as bad as Duncan and my father!” she said as she placed her hands on her hips. “I be fine! Our babe is not due until springtime.”

Maggy’s ears perked up. The woman had an English accent. She tried to wriggle in between Findley and Patrick, but both men were like walls of stone! When Findley felt her press her head into his arm, he closed in tighter to Patrick. She fought the urge to kick them both.

“My father insists on new furniture and fabrics for his grandchild,” Aishlinn said. “He says nothing is too good for his grandchildren. He wanted to send Isobel for me, but I convinced him she was needed at Gregor and that I could manage quite well. He finally relented, but only if Duncan came with me!” Aishlinn shook her head and smiled. “And we had to bring guards!”

Hope began to throb in Findley’s heart. “How many?” he blurted out.

Not knowing the importance of the question, Aishlinn giggled, “Only five and twenty!”

Findley and Patrick looked at each other. ’Twas a good number to start with and for the first time in days, Findley felt hopeful.

Maggy grew confused. Who was this woman and why would her father insist on guards to accompany her to buy furniture for her babe? And who was Duncan? She tried to wriggle through the human wall before her, only to be pushed backward again. Enough was enough!

Maggy took her knee and landed a firm blow to the back of Findley’s knee. He was caught off guard as he felt his knee give way and he nearly fell down. Maggy took the opportunity to push her way in between the two men.

The woman standing before her was breathtakingly beautiful. Her golden blonde hair was woven into an intricate braid around her head. An expensive and luxurious length of silk trailed from the top of her head to the hem of her beautiful green damask gown. Maggy thought she was perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

“Hello,” Aishlinn said with a warm smile.

Maggy had momentarily lost her voice. She looked up at Findley who was scowling down at her but she did not care. Her curiosity was piqued as to how this woman knew about her.

“Maggy,” Findley said. She chose to ignore the tone of warning in his voice.

Maggy turned back to Aishlinn. “M’lady,” she said, giving her a curtsey.

Aishlinn shook her head, smiled and held out her hand. “Please, call me Aishlinn. Ye must be the beautiful Maggy I’ve heard so much about.”

Maggy took her hand, confusion swarming in her head. But I’ve heard naught about you.

Aishlinn read Maggy’s confused expression. “Findley could speak of nothing else but you while he was healing this summer.”

“Healing? From what?” Maggy asked, growing more confused.

Aishlinn turned her gaze to Findley. “Did ye not speak of it to her, Findley?”

Was that a blush of embarrassment Maggy saw flashing across Findley’s face? And why was Patrick chuckling?

“’Tis a story fer another time,” he said to Aishlinn before turning to Maggy. “And time is a luxury we do no’ have at the moment.”

As Maggy looked to Findley and Patrick for answers, she caught sight of a man approaching them. Fear shot from her toes to the top of her head. He was an imposing figure, tall, broad shouldered, but it was the scowl on his face that frightened her. Without thought, Maggy ducked in behind Findley and Patrick.

“Duncan!” Aishlinn said happily.

“Aishlinn!” Maggy detected more than just a hint of anger in his voice. “I’ve been lookin’ all over fer ye!”

“Och! I’ve been right here, husband.”

Duncan let out an exasperated sigh. “But ye were to stay beside me at all times! Ye sneaked off without tellin’ me! I swear ye’ve scared ten years off me life!”

“I doubt there are any English here, husband,” she said teasingly. “And look, Findley and Patrick are here now, as well.”

“I can see that, wife.” Duncan shook his head and lowered it. “Findley, do ye see what torture she puts me through?”

Findley and Patrick laughed as they shook hands with Duncan. “Aye, we do,” Patrick said. “Is she worth the worry and torture?”

Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. “I find meself askin’ that same question multiple times a day, Patrick.”

Aishlinn raised her eyebrow and pulled on her husband’s arm. “And how do you answer that question, husband?”

A slow smile came to his face as he pretended to ignore his wife. Duncan winked at his friends, “Be smart, lads! If a beautiful and beguiling woman tries to get her talons into ye, run! I swear, the torture, the worry is more than I can bear at times. Marriage be no’ for the faint of heart! Nay,” he shook his head, “it takes a strong man with the patience of Job just to get through the mornin’!”

Aishlinn glared at him. “Yer torture is nothin’ compared to what I have to endure!” She was slipping into a Scottish brogue as she began to chastise him. “And it grows worse with each day! Dunna lift this, dunna lift that! Do no’ strain yerself. Do no’ test me patience wife! Och and arrrgh!” she said mockingly. “All the day long, like I be somethin’ fragile and weak, and I’m unable to care for myself!”