Timeless Tales of Honor (28 page)

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Authors: Suzan Tisdale,Kathryn le Veque,Christi Caldwell

BOOK: Timeless Tales of Honor
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He needed to go to Isobel, to hold her close and offer her comfort. Together they would help heal each other’s hearts, just as they had done some twenty years ago. They had found a comfort in each other then, as they had both grieved the loss of Laiden.

Angus had not ever expected to love again after losing Laiden, so convinced he was that his heart was broken beyond repair. But somehow, gradually over the following year, he had realized he had fallen in love with Isobel. He had felt a great deal of guilt over it. But he knew in his heart that Laiden would not have wanted him to suffer and grieve all his life for her. She would have wanted him to be happy and to move on without her. He married Isobel nearly two years after Laiden’s death. They were blessed with Bree less than a year after.

Aishlinn’s voice, still seething with anger, brought him back to the here and now.

“My whole life he told me I be plain, not beautiful, not smart, and not anything like my mother! He’d not let me play like lasses play, with dolls and such. He’d not let me have friends! He kept me busy in the fields and hunting and building things! Treating me as a boy, working me ’til my fingers bled and my body and mind so worn I could not think!”

Angus spoke softly to her then. “Lass, I swear I thought her dead. Had I known, had I known Laiden was still alive, I would have come for ye both.” He let out a heavy sigh.

“Had I known ye lived lass, I would have come for ye.” Angus needed her to understand that he had thought she had perished along with her mother.

“’Tis not you I am mad at!” she shouted at him. “’Tis Broc and his three sons!”

Isobel had quietly entered the room and gone to her husband. Her eyes filled with tears. Angus pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly; more for his own comfort and need for strength at that moment, than anything else.

“Why, Isobel, did ye no’ send for me sooner?” he asked, kissing the top of her head and breathing in her scent.

“The talks were important, Angus,” she said, wiping away tears with the end of her shawl. “But had ye not returned when ye did, I would have sent for ye!”

Aishlinn eyed Isobel curiously. “You knew?”

Isobel nodded her head. “Aye. From the first moment I laid eyes upon ye, I ken it.”

“But how?” Aishlinn was not certain she wanted to know the answer and began to wonder how many others might have known and said nothing.

Isobel smiled as she went to Aishlinn and wrapped her arms around her. “Because, Laiden was my sister.”

Aishlinn pulled away from Isobel’s embrace, shocked and confused. “Why did you not tell me?” she asked.

Isobel took a deep breath. “I felt it best it come from yer father, Aishlinn.”

My father? To hear the words aloud, to hear Angus referred to in that manner brought more tears to her eyes. She choked them back, struggling to maintain what little composure she had left. She could not be mad at Isobel for keeping it secret and Aishlinn knew it must have been painful for her to not share it.

“Who else knows?” Aishlinn finally found the courage to ask.

Isobel shook her head. “No one.”

Aishlinn slumped back into the chair, her mind racing with even more unanswered questions. Angus was her father and he had apparently loved her mother enough to want to marry her. But why, why did she end up marrying Broc? How had she even known Broc?

Isobel came and sat across from her. “I ken ye have many questions Aishlinn. Some we’ll have answers to, others not. I’m afraid the answers ye seek the most are buried with yer mother and with Broc.”

She gently squeezed Aishlinn’s hands in her own. “Yer mum and I were half-blooded sisters. Her father was an Englishman, but mine a Highlander -- a true Scotsman. My father died when I was but a bairn. Our mum married the Englishman when I was three. He had promised we would stay in the highlands, but soon he changed his mind and forced us to move to the lowlands. We hated it there.”

Isobel turned and smiled at her husband. “Our grandmother was the cook here, long before Mary, and we would visit every summer. Our mother had decided to move us here for we all missed the highlands, especially yer mother. We met Angus the summer yer mother turned ten and five.” She turned back to Aishlinn who sat stoically before her.

Aishlinn could see the pain in Isobel’s face as she spoke. “I was in Inverness when I learned of Laiden’s death. I moved back here, to Dunshire immediately.” A tear escaped her eye. “I came back to help my mum and grandmother. Laiden’s death nearly killed us all, but none more so than Angus.”

Both women turned to look at Angus who had been standing very quietly near the fireplace. The pain of the memories could be seen etched across his face.

“Angus had fallen into the bottle for a very long time, so great was his anguish over losing ye both,” Isobel said, turning her attention back to Aishlinn. “We all believed the lie Broc had told, Aishlinn. Had any of us even an inkling that what he said was not true, we would have come for ye both.”

Aishlinn did not doubt it for a moment. How differently all their lives would have been had they not believed the lies.

“I believe that you would have,” Aishlinn said softly as she gave Isobel’s hand a light squeeze. She could not blame anyone in this room for anything Broc had done.

“’Twas a year after her death, or what we thought was her death, before Angus and I realized we were in love. We were married and less than a year later we were blessed with Bree,” Isobel said.

“My guilt, after seeing ye for the first time Aishlinn, was immeasurable!” she told Aishlinn. “I felt like I had betrayed yer mother, my sister.” More tears flowed and she was powerless to stop them.

“Isobel, none of this is your fault, or Angus’,” she told her. “This is all Broc’s doing. The blame is his, and his alone. You did not betray my mother. Broc did. He betrayed us all.”

Aishlinn’s heart ached for Isobel and Angus. She knew they must feel a tremendous amount of guilt for believing Broc. They had built a life together, Angus and Isobel. Now, all these many years later, here comes Aishlinn, a ghost from their past, to show them their life had been built on the lie told by a man with a sick heart and a sick mind.

It made sense to Aishlinn now, why Broc had not allowed her to leave his home after Laiden had succumbed to the fevers. Had he allowed Aishlinn to leave him, there was a chance his lie would have been discovered. She wondered if Moirra had known the truth or at least enough of it that she would have seen to it that Aishlinn was returned to Angus. Perhaps that was why Broc kept her: to save his own life.

Angus let out a long sigh. “Aishlinn, I am truly sorry for all that was done to ye.” His shoulders sagged with guilt and sadness over the life his daughter had been forced to live.

Aishlinn stood, pushed her shoulders back and her lifted head high. “I’ll not have either of you feeling guilty over the lies told by a mad man,” she said firmly. “What’s done is done and we cannot change it. Broc had control over us for twenty years and I’ll not allow him to keep it!” She put her hands upon her hips. “He was a sick man and we all know it. There’ll be no more guilt, no more what ifs.”

Angus chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Ya do have yer mother’s temperament.”

A smile came to Aishlinn’s face. “I’ll take that as a compliment and thank you for it.” Too many years she had heard she was nothing like her mother, not in looks or spirit or heart. Her heart swelled with pride to learn those were simply more of Broc’s lies.

Isobel went to her husband and hugged him tightly. She whispered something into his ear. Whatever she had said caused him to raise his eyebrows and his lips to curve up rather devilishly. He chuckled at Isobel before turning his attention back to Aishlinn. “I believe we have another matter to discuss,” he said.

Aishlinn eyed him curiously and wondered if perhaps there were more secrets to unfold this day. “What matter?” she asked nervously, doubting she had the strength to take any more secrets.

“The matter of Duncan,” Angus said. His eyes twinkled when he saw her face burn with embarrassment. “It seems he’s fallen in love with me daughter!”

Slowly Aishlinn sat back in the chair. It felt utterly strange, for one, to have Angus so readily refer to her as his daughter. Even more embarrassing was the prospect of discussing her feelings for Duncan with him. She sighed heavily for she doubted Duncan still cared for her, not after what she had done to him earlier in the day.

“It matters not,” she said. “He was so angry with me earlier, that I do not think he still holds good feelings towards me.”

A scowl came to Angus’ face. “Angry with ye? Over what?”

Isobel recounted the incident on the archery field for him. “I see,” he said, running his hand along his chin as his face beamed with pride. “Me daughter can shoot that well, aye?”

More embarrassment flooded over Aishlinn. “It matters not that I can shoot well. What matters is that I was rude to him in front of his men.” She clasped her hands together to hide the fact that they were shaking.

“I doubt it will be something he can get over easily. I am certain he no longer cares for me as he did.”

Angus let out a huge laugh. “Ya think that do ye?”

It was impossible to look at either of them, for fear her true feelings would be readily seen in her face. She loved Duncan, loved him more than anything. But she knew that she had made a terrible mistake by openly disrespecting him in front of his men and she was certain that he would not be able to forgive her. Slowly she nodded her head and whispered, “Aye.”

“Well ye better be tellin’ Duncan that he no longer cares for ye, because I dunna think he kens it!” Angus chuckled.

Aishlinn looked at him, quite puzzled. “What do you mean?”

His smile was broad as he put his hand upon her shoulder. “Because right before ye came to see me, he told me that he loved ye.”

“He did?” Her heart began to pound and her palms grew moist. Aishlinn knew he had cared for her, but he had not yet told her that he loved her. Certainly Angus must have misunderstood the words Duncan had used to describe his feelings for Aishlinn. “He told you that?”

“Aye, he did.” Angus squeezed her shoulder slightly. “Go. Talk to the lad, Aishlinn.”

She stood quickly before realizing she could not go to Duncan. “I can’t!” she said.

“Why not?” Isobel asked.

“He has not released me from my room yet! He said I was not to leave until he gave his permission.” She felt silly saying it aloud. She had disrespected him earlier and wished not to that again.

Angus laughed more boisterously. “Lass, ye go find him. And if he grows angry with ye over it, ye tell him to haud his wheesht or ye’ll tell yer father of it!”

Aishlinn smiled and flung her arms around Angus’ neck. Her father, she thought. My father. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of knowing that she did in fact have a father and one who was able to care for her, to claim her as his own in the blink of an eye. It mattered not to him that twenty years of lies had separated them and had kept them apart. She was his daughter and that was all that seemed to matter. Tears raced down her cheeks as she sobbed, her head resting on his chest.

Angus patted her back and tears filled in his own eyes. “Lass, don’t be cryin’ now.” He looked to Isobel for help. “I canna stand it when a woman cries!” he said. Isobel came to them both and wrapped her arms around them.

“I haven’t met a highlander yet who could!”

A
fter speaking with her father
, Aishlinn left him and Isobel and went immediately to seek out Duncan. She wanted to first apologize for being disrespectful to him earlier that morning. She could only hope that he would accept her apology. Secondly, she wanted bring him back to Angus and Isobel and together, they would tell him that she had indeed found her real family.

She was not certain where he might be so she stopped in the kitchens to ask if Mary had seen him. “Aye, a while ago lass. Has he given ye permission to leave yer room?” Mary asked as she stirred a pot of stew that hung in the fireplace.

Without a clue how to explain the last hour of her life, Aishlinn fibbed. “Aye. He has.”

“He said he needed some fresh air,” Mary said as she cocked her head towards the door. “Ye’ll probably find him out of doors. Check the training fields, he likes to go there sometimes to think.” Aishlinn was out the door before Mary had time to bid her good day.

Black Richard had spotted her as she exited the kitchens. He ran to catch up with her. “How be ye this fine day, Aishlinn?” he asked as he walked alongside her.

“Fine, and you?” She was on a mission to find Duncan and wanted not to waste time with idle conversation, therefore she did not slow her pace.

“I am well,” he said, wishing she would stop for a moment to talk with him. He caught a glimpse of the determined expression upon her face. “Ya seem to be in a bit of a hurry this day,” he said.

Aishlinn stopped rather abruptly and put her hands on her hips. “Aye, I am. Is there something you need?” she asked and hoped that she did not sound as perturbed as she felt. She needed to speak with Duncan straight away.

Black Richard reviewed her for a moment. He had been carrying around some strong feelings for her for quite a time now. He decided to throw all caution to the wind, swallowed hard and felt as though he were leaping into an unknown abyss.

“Only the company of the most beautiful woman in the clan.” He hoped she would see and hear his sincerity.

She hadn’t a clue that Black Richard held any romantic feelings towards her. Had she not been so focused on finding Duncan she would have realized more readily what he was saying. Instead, she was distracted and wanted only to find Duncan.

“Who might that be, Richard? I’ll help you find her as soon as I’m done.”

He sighed heavily as his shoulders sunk. “I be lookin’ at her right now.” He wasn’t ready to give up the pursuit just yet.

Aishlinn shook her head, wishing to be done with him. “Black Richard, I’ve really no time at the moment,” she said as she resumed walking.

“I can see that, lass,” he said resuming his pace beside her. “I wish it were me ye were in such a hurry to find,” he blurted out. “And not Duncan.”

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