The Clan MacDougall Series (74 page)

Relief washed over Maggy when she realized the large and imposing man was Aishlinn’s husband. She was enjoying the back and forth banter taking place between the two people. Even a fool could see that they loved one another. Through a small sliver of space between Findley and Patrick, Maggy could see Duncan had slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“But, she does make up fer it at the end of each day,” he said with a devious grin.

Aishlinn’s face burned red. “Duncan!” she chastised him. “Ye shouldn’t speak like that!”

Duncan chuckled. “I dunna where yer mind is, wife. I was speakin’ of the fine meals you prepare me each eve!”

Maggy felt laughter bubbling up and she had to put her hand to her lips to keep it from escaping. But the look in the man’s eyes as he stared down as his very tiny wife, brought a sense of sadness and longing to Maggy.

She wished she could someday have that kind of playful relationship with a man, but those wishes would not be granted and her prayers would go unanswered. She knew all too well the kind of life that waited for her at the end of this ordeal; and it would resemble nothing like what the two young people before her shared.

“Duncan, ye’ve scared Maggy! She hides behind Findley and Patrick!” Aishlinn reached in between the two men, found Maggy’s arm and pulled her through.

“Maggy, this is my husband, Duncan McEwan,” she said with a nod of her head. “Duncan, this is Findley’s lass, Maggy.”

It was Maggy’s turn to burn red. What on earth did she mean by Findley’s lass? Mayhap the young woman was confused, had taken a blow to her head at some point. There was no relationship between her and Findley. He was merely helping her get her son back and nothing more.

Duncan bowed slightly and smiled at Findley. “She’s just as bonny as ye described her, Findley.”

Maggy looked up at Findley. The muscles in his jaw were clenching and she detected a twitch forming in his eye. What on earth had Findley told these two people?

“Findley,” Maggy whispered but could not think of how to form the question burning in her mind.

Duncan and Aishlinn hadn’t a clue as to why Maggy looked at Findley with such a perplexed expression. They cast each other looks of confusion, shrugged their shoulders and turned their attention back to Findley.

“Have ye eaten yet?” Aishlinn asked the three of them. “I realize it is not quite time for an evening meal, but I find myself quite hungry,” she said as she patted her belly with her hand.

At the moment, Maggy had no appetite. There were unanswered questions hanging in the air. Findley was purposely ignoring her even as she tugged on his arm.

“I’m afraid we’ve no time, Aishlinn. I’ve a need to speak with Duncan if ye dunna mind. ’Tis verra important.” Findley was unsuccessful in hiding his worry. He now had two women to worry over. There was no telling what the Buchannan men would do to any of the people he might come in contact with.

Aishlinn sensed the seriousness in his tone. She had learned there were times when the men in her life wanted nothing more than to protect her and those they loved. Eventually she’d drag the problem out of her husband. Too hungry at the moment to beg for more information, she stepped toward Maggy.

“We might as well give the men the privacy they’re needing at the moment, Maggy. We can go back to our inn and eat while the men talk.” Looping her arm through Maggy’s she began to pull her away from the men.

Maggy was too flummoxed to argue and began to walk with Aishlinn. She had only taken a few steps when she was abruptly reminded that she could not leave Findley’s side. She let out a slight grunt when the shackles pulled her back toward Findley.

Aishlinn turned to see what had stopped Maggy from following. Her eyes grew as large as saucers when she saw the shackles holding the two of them together.

“Findley McKenna! What on earth have ye done!” she exclaimed.

Findley rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve done nothin’, lass,” he tried to explain further but was interrupted by Aishlinn.

“Dunna lie to me Findley McKenna!” Aishlinn said angrily. “Ye’ve got the poor lass shackled to you like a prisoner! Is that any way to treat the woman ye lo-”

Findley cut her off sharply, his voice loud. “Aishlinn!” he boomed. “I assure ye that these shackles aren’t here by my doin’, but by Maggy’s!”

Aishlinn looked at him disbelievingly. “Nay! I dunna believe that! Why would she do such a thing?” She turned to Maggy, with her hands on her hips and waited for an explanation.

Maggy let out a quick sigh. “I had to or he’d have left me and me sons with the monks, m’lady. I had no other choice in the matter, I assure ye.” She cast a look of dismay up at Findley. He still would not look at her.

“The monks?” Aishlinn asked. She shook her head as if doing so would somehow bring clarification to the burgeoning questions. “Why would you leave them with the monks?” she asked Findley. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, she looked to Patrick. Apparently both men had taken a vow of silence for neither would answer.

“Ye were supposed to bring them all back to Gregor,” Aishlinn said. “And now the poor lass has to shackle herself to you in order that you won’t desert her,” she said to no one in particular.

“’Tis a verra long story, m’lady,” Maggy offered. “And I’m afraid it be no’ a pleasant one.”

“I think,” Duncan interjected, “that there is much we dunna ken about it, Aishlinn. I think mayhap we should find a quiet place to discuss the matter?” He looked to Findley for affirmation.

“Aye, we should,” Findley pulled Maggy closer and nodded his head toward Aishlinn. “Duncan, there be Buchannans lookin’ fer us. Ye best find yer men and meet us back at our rooms at the Crooked Arms.”

At the mention of Buchannans, Duncan’s hand reflexively went to his sword as he pulled Aishlinn into his free arm. “Buchannans?”

“Aye,” Findley said with a nod of his head. “Patrick, will ye see if there be a back door we can use?”

Patrick nodded his head and disappeared through a door at the rear of the shop.

“Buchannans,” Aishlinn murmured as fear flashed into her eyes. “What do the Buchannans want?” she asked growing more confused and fearful.

Findley answered her question. “They want me Maggy.”

There wasn’t much that escaped the dark stranger’s eyes. He had seen them arrive late last night and had been watching them ever since. Last night he had thanked whatever intervening forces had brought them to this place. He wouldn’t thank God, for he had long ago given up believing in a kind or gracious God. The hell he had endured all those years as a prisoner had destroyed his faith.

It really didn’t matter how she got here, only that she was. Soon, he would be able to exact his revenge on the man who had destroyed his life. He’d do that by taking something near and dear to the betrayer’s heart; his woman and his son.

While he was quite tempted to walk up to her and run a dagger through her heart, he knew that he’d be dead before her corpse hit the ground. Nay, he wanted to kill them both, especially the boy. The boy was the key.

Years of training had taught him how to study people without being noticed. From what he just witnessed from the other side of the street, he could tell Maggy and the men she was with were hiding from Buchannan men. What he hadn’t figured out yet, was why.

Instinct and experience told him they’d probably leave the shop through a back entrance. Knowing the alley behind the wall of shops led in only two directions, he slowly crossed the street. As he walked by the shop he could see them standing and speaking with a young woman.

He made his way to the corner stopping occasionally to look into a shop window before making his way around the corner. Pausing nonchalantly at the entrance of the alley, he waited. The wait wasn’t long before he saw them flood out of the rear of the shop. Seeing they were heading away from him, he went back the way he came and was able to follow at a good distance.

He had to find out why they were hiding from the Buchannans. Surmising the best way to do that would be out of the mouths of Buchannans, he decided on his next course of action. He’d go back to the inn, and learn what he could from those men.

Night had descended by the time Findley had recounted to Duncan and Aishlinn all that had transpired. Duncan had readily agreed to giving half his men over to aid Findley and his quest for the kidnapped Ian.

Had Aishlinn not been with him, Duncan would have joined in the quest himself. But his wife and unborn child were his primary concern. He would take her back to Gregor at first light and then meet with Findley and the others in Aberdeen.

Aishlinn and Duncan had done their best to convince Maggy to return with them to Gregor. Their pleas fell on deaf ears for Maggy would have none of it. She would not admit to having a key though everyone around her believed that she did.

Maggy did agree to send her sons back with Duncan and Aishlinn. She knew the boys would be angry with her decision, but their safety was her main priority and she refused to take any further chances of them ending up in the hands of the Buchannans. As she had suspected, the news did not settle well with them.

“I’ll no’ go run and hide like a bairn!” Robert said, appalled and angry that his mother apparently had no faith in him.

“’Tisn’t hidin’ yer doin’, Robert. I need ye to help protect yer other brothers. Liam and Collin be far too young to go against the Buchannans. I need ye and Andrew to protect them and help see them safely to Gregor.” She could only hope that he would believe her. She would feel better knowing Robert was with the younger boys, especially Liam.

“I’m no fool, mum! Ye hope to build up me pride and make me to think that is what ye want. But I ken better! Ye worry I be too young, too inexperienced to help get Ian back!” he was pacing around the room.

Aye, she did worry over him and she did believe he was too young to battle against the Buchannans. It was a fine line a mother sometimes had to walk between helping her children to believe in themselves and keeping them safe. There were times when a mother had to step back and allow their children to learn by their own mistakes. This, however, was not one of those times.

“Robert,” she said sternly. “Yer a good and smart lad. Ye’ll go to Gregor and ye’ll get the trainin’ ye need to become a fine warrior. Ye’ll no’ be goin to Aberdeen and that’s the end of it!” She didn’t want to yell but there would be no way she’d allow him to go anywhere but back to Gregor.

“I need ye to protect yer brothers, Robert,” her voice softened. “I need ye with them.” Her voice cracked as she looked at her eldest son. For the first time since this ordeal began she was not sure if she’d come out of it alive. There was a very real chance that she would end up dead. Death didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the thought of no one being there to raise her sons.

Aishlinn had made a promise to Maggy not more than an hour earlier. If anything happened to Maggy, then Duncan and Aishlinn would take the four boys in as their own. It was a tremendous pledge that Aishlinn made and though Maggy hadn’t known her but for a few hours, Maggy knew in her heart Aishlinn would keep her word.

“Promise me, Robert, that ye’ll take care of yer brothers for me,” Maggy said as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

Robert kept his back to her, his fists clenching at his sides. I’m no’ a bairn. We’re warriors and we take care of our own. How many times had he said that to his brothers? How would he ever be able to look any of them in the eye again if he ran and hid like a frightened lamb? His mother was asking him to make a promise, one he did not think he could keep.

She asked me to take care of me brothers, he thought to himself. She didn’t say how I was to do it.

Robert stood taller, pushed his shoulders back and turned around to look at his mum. Her face bore an expression he’d seen far too much of lately; fear, dread, and worry. Findley’s didn’t look much better.

“Aye,” he finally said. “I promise ye, I’ll take care of me brothers.”

Maggy’s shoulders sagged with relief. For a minute she thought she’d have to tie him up in order to get him to listen to reason. She held back a laugh when she realized this must be what Findley feels like.

Maggy walked to her son and held him in a tight embrace. She whispered into his ear, “I love ye, son. I have faith in ye to always do what’s right. I’m verra proud of ye.” She gave him a kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back.

He may be on the verge of becoming a young man, but he was still her son. No matter how tall he became, no matter how old he grew, he would always be her son.

Robert wiggled from her embrace and left the room, leaving his mother and Findley behind.

A long silent moment passed before Findley spoke. “Too bad his mother won’t listen to the same good sense and reason.”

“Tisn’t the same, Findley. I be a full-grown woman. He’s just a boy.”

“Nay, he’s a young man, Maggy. And a proud one.”

Maggy let out a long breath. “Would ye have him go with us then?”

Findley shook his head and lifted a hand to her shoulder. “Nay, Maggy. I’d prefer ye went with them back to Gregor.”

“Ye ken I canna do that, Findley!”

“I ken no such thing,” he said softly. He knew it was killing her inside to be sending her boys away. But he knew she had only their safety and well being at heart. “If ye had any sense in that beautiful head of yers, ye would go back with them, instead of pretending ye do no’ have the key to these,” he said as he lifted his wrist and dangled the shackles between them.

Maggy remained mute. She had grown weary of having the same argument over and over again. Changing the subject she headed toward the bed. “I am tired, Findley. I wish to sleep now.”

Findley tugged on the shackles and pulled her back to him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pressed his stomach to her back. She tried wiggling her way out, but his hold on her was too strong.

“Maggy,” he whispered into her ear. “Why do ye insist on staying shackled to me? Why will ye no’ share yer secrets with me?”

There was a sensuality to his voice that caused her stomach to bubble with excitement. She didn’t think she’d ever understand how one man could have such an effect on her! She wanted him with a desperation that frightened her. Oh, how she wished things could be different for them. In moments like this, when she was ready to tell him everything and beg for his forgiveness, she felt at her weakest. Moments when she wished she could agree to marry him and pretend they could live out the rest of their days together in quiet, blissful peace.