Timeless Tales of Honor (19 page)

“Is that not what brothers do for sisters?” Aishlinn asked naively.

“I suppose some do,” Isobel said. But she knew ’twas also something a brash young man would do to keep a young lady he fancied to himself. She decided it best, for the moment at least, to not explain it further to her.

Isobel put her hands upon Aishlinn’s shoulders. “Now, we’ll not worry on the matter any longer,” she said as she stood. “I think it be time to teach ye some of the finer things a lady ought to know.” She studied Aishlinn for a moment. Such a beautiful young woman she was. ’Twas her eyes though, those deep dark green eyes, that Isobel sometimes found painful to look into.

“Do ye ken how to weave, lass?” she asked.

Aishlinn stood and shook her head. “Nay. My mother was very good at it but I never had the chance to learn.”

Isobel swallowed hard at the mention of the lass’ mother. “Would ye like to learn?”

Aishlinn’s eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Oh yes! Very much!”

“Good. I’ll teach ye to weave and to sew properly. Come to my chambers after ye’ve eaten and we’ll start straight away.”

Aishlinn flung her arms around Isobel and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Isobel!” she said as she tried hard not to cry again. What few memories she had left of her mother told her she and Isobel were very much alike. Both were kind, dignified and sweet. She wondered for a moment if it would be disrespectful to her mother’s memory to think of Isobel in that manner, as a mother figure.

A
ishlinn dressed quickly
and ran to the kitchens to eat before racing to Isobel’s private chambers. Quite excited to begin to learn to weave, she tapped gently on the door before Isobel opened it. Her chin nearly hit the floor when she entered the room for it was filled nearly top to bottom with books!

Aishlinn had only seen one book in her life. It was the Bible the priest read at the funerals. In the lowlands, they were not allowed such things as to own books. It was considered a blasphemy against God, the church and the King to teach girl children to read, and only a very few of the boys were educated beyond spelling their own names. Reading, owning books, that was a right held only by the privileged and powerful English.

Isobel watched Aishlinn closely for a long moment as she watched the young woman’s eyes grow wide with awe.

Aishlinn stood frozen as she soaked it all in. A massive fireplace nearly as big as the one in the gathering room took up most of one wall. A shield with two crossed broadswords hung over the dark mantle. A large trestle table flanked by benches stood in the center of the room. Soft and luxurious rugs were scattered across the floor.

And the books! Hundreds of books sat on heavy wooden shelves tucked into nearly every crook and cranny and dozens more sat atop the table. Aishlinn took no notice of the looms that sat in front of the tall windows, for it was the books that captured her attention and heart.

“Aishlinn, what are ye thinking?” Isobel asked curiously.

“You have books,” she said breathlessly.

“Aye, we do,” Isobel said, realizing the lass could not read. Isobel knew all too well the opinions the English held on educating girls. “Ya dunna read, do ye, lass?” Knowing the answer beforehand.

“Nay!” Aishlinn said, shocked at such a notion. “’Tis considered a blasphemy for a girl to read!”

Disgusted at those people who refused to educate their children, Isobel huffed. “People with power like to keep their people ignorant. They do it only so they may hold more power over them. Heaven forbid a body should have an intelligent, independent thought! Especially a female!”

She was determined to not allow this young woman to be lost any longer. Books would open worlds that Aishlinn could not begin to imagine existed. “We shall rectify that situation at once!” she told Aishlinn. “Ye’ll learn to read and to write and to figure sums. ’Tis quite important for a proper lady to know such things, lass!”

Aishlinn stood aghast at the thought. “But ’tis considered an offense against the church and the King,” she whispered as if their voices would be carried straight to the king’s ears.

Isobel laughed sweetly and shook her head. “Lass. Ye be no longer in the hands of the English. Here, we do teach our children to read. It is considered an offense not to!”

Slowly Aishlinn’s lips began to turn upward and she suddenly felt wicked, as if she were doing something very, very wrong. But the idea of actually learning to read was quite appealing as was the thought of becoming a proper lady. If only her brothers could see her now.

H
ad
she known that learning to read and write would be harder on a body than working in the fields or hunting, she might not have been so excited at the prospect of a proper education. But it was exciting. Isobel opened entire new worlds to her and she was enjoying every minute of it, no matter how tired she was.

She would rise each morning and race to work in the kitchens. The moment she finished whatever tasks Mary had given her for the day, she would happily race to Isobel’s room. Even after the many days that followed she still could not contain her excitement. It still felt strange each time she was allowed to touch a book or put a quill to parchment to practice writing her letters. But she relished it and each day she thanked God for bringing her here.

When the nightmares came, Aishlinn would go to Isobel rather than Duncan. Some nights she would crawl into Isobel’s bed while other nights Isobel would sit near Aishlinn’s bed until she fell back to sleep. It was still difficult for Aishlinn to understand how Isobel could love her as her own.

She would read and write and practice sums for a few hours each afternoon before they would turn to learning to weave. Aishlinn loved the scent of the heavy threads and how soft they felt on her fingers. The sound of the shuttles as she passed one over the other was as soothing to her spirits as a lullaby to a new bairn. She could only hope to someday be as skillful at it as her mother had been and Isobel seemed to be.

Isobel was keeping Aishlinn so busy that it made it nearly impossible for Duncan to spend more than a moment or two with her. He was growing quite frustrated with it, but was profoundly glad to see the excitement upon Aishlinn’s face as she learned to read and write.

Isobel had also put a stop to them sitting together at the evening meals. She insisted that Aishlinn sit with her and the other ladies under the guise that it would help her to grow as a refined woman. Duncan could tell from Aishlinn’s bored expression during those meals that she did not like it any more than he did. Many times he caught her glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Sleep brought no respite for him, for ’twas there he found her each night, in his dreams. Vivid, sweet, wicked dreams of her nestled in his arms, as she had been that one delightful night when nothing happened between them but sleep. In his dreams, far more than sleep was happening.

Angus was long overdue to arrive home but finally word had arrived in the form of a messenger. He brought with him a letter for Isobel as well as a group of musicians to entertain the clan. The messenger informed Duncan that the talks were not progressing as smoothly as Angus had hoped and he would be delayed for at least another fortnight.

Though Duncan would have preferred Angus return sooner rather than later, he knew his chief was where he was most needed. The safety and future of the clan took precedence over all else. Duncan could tend to the needs of his clan well enough and he only wished Angus had returned so that he could help him sort out the blasted feelings he had for Aishlinn.

Alone in her room, Isobel read the letter from her husband. Tears burned her eyes as she read it. She could almost hear Angus’ deep booming voice whispering softly to her through the words written on the parchment. His letter held promises of the many things he desired to do with her upon his return. Some were so detailed they brought not only a smile to her face but a blush of red as well. Even though he had just turned forty, he often behaved like a man half his age when it came to his wife.

He prayed -- and she knew he meant it only in jest -- that another man, perhaps one much younger and more braw than he, had not stolen her heart in his absence. Expressing his never-ending love and gratitude to her and how much he missed being near her, he prayed she be well and safe. He could barely wait to return home and to Isobel.

Holding the letter to her heart for several long moments she fought back tears for she missed her husband very much. She penned her own letter to him professing her own love and devotion and expressed to him that he was greatly missed, not just by her but their many children and clansmen. She also reassured him that there was no other man on the face of the earth who could steal her heart from him. He was the only man she would ever love.

Isobel decided it best not to mention the young Aishlinn for now. There would be plenty of time to sort it all out when he returned. ’Twas news, after all, that must be told face to face.

Leaving her private chamber to give her letter to the messenger, she saw Aishlinn sitting at the long table. The lass had a most serious expression upon her face as she chewed at her bottom lip and studied the letters on the page before her. Isobel could see that dark circles, from the stresses of learning and lack of sleep, had begun to form under the girl’s eyes.

Feeling perhaps that she had been pushing the lass much too hard of late, and with her spirits lifted after reading her husband’s letter, Isobel made a decision. She would give Aishlinn the remainder of the afternoon to do with as she pleased.

“Aishlinn?” she said, tucking her letter into the pocket of her skirt. “I’ve decided that ye’ve been working far too much of late. It is too bonny a day to be stuck in here.”

Not sure what Isobel meant, she asked, “Do you wish me to study elsewhere?”

“Nay! I wish ye to close the books and study no more this day. Go. Soak up some fresh air and sunshine. Find Bree and tell her the secrets ye won’t tell any other. Find a lad to bat yer eyelashes at!” Isobel laughed aloud as she watched Aishlinn’s eyes quickly fill with excitement and relief. “I’ll see ye back here on the morrow. Now be gone with ye, before I change me mind!”

She needn’t be told twice. With great care she closed her book before running from the room. Not wanting to risk the chance that Isobel would change her mind and call her back to her studies, Aishlinn raced down the hallway and nearly tumbled down the stairs. Freedom for the rest of the day was too grand a thought to waste anywhere but out of doors.

She dashed through the kitchens and out the door, shouting hello and goodbye to those she passed. She paused long enough to take in a deep breath of fresh air and to feel the sunshine on her face. Arching her back and turning her face to the sun, she stood still for a moment, soaking it in, glad that the rest of the glorious day was hers to do with as she pleased.

As she raced past the laundries and rounded the corner at a full run, she ran straight into Duncan. She landed full into him with a thump, nearly falling backwards. Startled, Duncan reached out and caught her before she tumbled and using more force than he intended, he pulled her right back into him.

“Duncan! I’m sorry!” she smiled at him, excited to be free and to be seeing him.

“Where are ye running off to? Did ye escape Isobel’s oubliette, be that why yer runnin'?” he laughed, his eyes twinkling in the bright midday sunlight. He was very glad to see her and not ready to let go of her.

A wide smile came to her face. “Nay! She has given me the rest of the day to do with as I please!” she told him excitedly.

That was indeed promising news for Duncan. He was quite happy to hear he might finally have some time to spend alone with her. Knowing there were far too many watchful eyes around the castle, he worried that Isobel might learn that he was speaking with Aishlinn and decide to intervene. He wasn’t willing to risk it.

Suddenly, a somewhat dastardly thought came to his mind. He wanted very much to simply be alone with her, to talk with her and learn how she liked her studies. “Aishlinn, would ye like to go fer a ride with me?”

Her smile brightened. Hopefully he would want only one horse. A chance to ride atop his lap, with his arms wrapped around her was a delightful thought, even if he did have only brotherly intentions towards her.

Within a very short time they were mounted on Duncan’s bay-colored mare, with Aishlinn blissfully perched upon his lap. They raced from the castle and headed towards the hillside at a full run. Duncan relished having her so near him. Slowly, he took in a long, deep breath. She smelled of lavender. A few moments after breathing her in he realized mayhap they should have taken two horses. Her scent was intoxicating and her rump was a little too close for comfort. He had to force his mind to think of something mundane in order to try to quash his growing excitement.

Aishlinn dared not admit to herself that she had missed him for she knew it would not have mattered anyway. Her feelings for him were quite strong, but she knew he could not return them. She had convinced herself weeks ago that he needed a more mature, worldly and beautiful woman. If he were to be chief of his clan someday he would also need a woman with a higher station in life than her own.

But for now, it did not matter. She was away from the castle, away from her lessons and ready to simply enjoy some time with Duncan.

They had ridden a good distance before he slowed his mare to a walk. Mundane thoughts weren’t working, especially with her body in such close proximity to his own.

While Aishlinn enjoyed a view of the lands before her, Duncan was enjoying a view of his own. He noticed that her hair had grown longer and that her dress no longer hung loosely upon her frame. It seemed to him that she was filling it out quite nicely. Her fair skin no longer held the pallor of someone tired and worn. Her cheeks were quite rosy and she had a healthy glow about her.

He did notice the dark circles under her eyes, more likely than not from lack of sleep. He was certain it was the nightmares that took hold of her each night and he wished that she would come back to him for comfort.

“’Tis beautiful, isn’t it Duncan,” she said looking out at the majesty of the highlands. He had not taken his eyes from her. “Aye, it is.” She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

They rode along in silence for a while longer before Duncan stopped the horse. He had to get her off his lap and quickly. “Let’s walk for a while, Aishlinn,” he said as he dismounted.

He reached up and took hold of her small waist and helped her down from the horse. Just as he had done the day they had arrived at the castle, he did not immediately release her. He held her and looked into her dark green eyes that were sparkling like emeralds in the sunlight. He wanted nothing more at the moment than to kiss her full pink lips and run his hands through her golden hair.

Aishlinn began to feel uncomfortable for she had never seen him look at her in that manner before. While she did not want him to let her go, she worried that if he didn’t, she might be tempted to kiss him. It wasn’t easy to push those thoughts and feelings aside, especially when his dark blue eyes seemed to be boring into her soul.

“Did you wish to walk, Duncan, or have you changed your mind?” she asked him, swallowing hard. His curious expression was beginning to make her nervous.

He shook the wicked thoughts from his mind and finally put her down. She had an effect upon him that he had never experienced before. It was as confusing as it was exhilarating. How on earth could one wee woman have such an effect on his heart and mind?

Holding onto the reins of his mount he let out a slow breath. He would surely lose his mind before he got his feelings for her sorted out.

“How do yer lessons go, lass? Are ye likin’ them?” he asked as they walked through the tall summer grasses. Think pure thoughts. Think pure thoughts. He repeated over and over in his mind.

She told him yes, she was enjoying them, though she was struggling with the Latin. He told her the same thing that Isobel had; once she mastered the Latin, the other languages would be much easier to learn.

They walked at a leisurely pace while they talked about everything and nothing in particular, merely enjoying one another’s company. The sun had peaked and begun its late day descent and the gentle breeze had begun to die down.

“Have I told ye lass that Angus sent musicians with the messenger?” he said as he looked to her from the corner of his eye.

“Nay, I had not heard of it.”

“There’ll be a grand feast this night and a dance after,” he told her. He noticed that her gold hair held a slight tint of red to it when the sun shone on it in just the right manner.

“That sounds like much fun,” she said before taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

“Perhaps Isobel will allow ye to sit with me this night?”

She would very much like to sit with him again at the evening meals. While she appreciated all that Isobel was doing for her, with teaching her to read and write and to be a refined and dignified lady, she truly missed spending time with Duncan and his men. She hoped Isobel’s good mood and generosity would continue through the rest of the day and that she’d allow them to spend time together later. “Perhaps.”

“And mayhap,” he began, “ye’ll save a dance fer me?”

“Dance?” she asked. She had never danced before. There had been little time or opportunity in her life before coming to Castle Gregor for such things.

“Aye, a dance,” he said smiling as he enjoyed the thought of being able to hold her close with no one to question why. He studied her for moment, noticing that her face had grown red. “Would ye no’ like to dance with me?” he asked.

She would love to do more than dance with him she thought to herself. Had she the courage to say what was really upon her mind she felt certain he would rescind his offer. “Nay, I would enjoy it very much.”

Duncan could sense the apprehension in her voice. “Is there a problem with it, Aishlinn?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I do not know how to dance.” She did not like having to admit it.

Duncan stopped and turned to her with a warm smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “’Tis quite easy, once ye get the gist of it,” he told her as he dropped the reins to his horse and took her hands in his. Her eyes flew open wide as he placed her hand upon his shoulder and his own on her hip. Her stomach tightened and her heart began to pound in her chest. She cursed the feelings wishing them to go away and never return for it was heartbreaking to know nothing could ever come of it.