“Oh, I can see to that. We will have something made for ye. Milord has
given orders to have ye fitted with the best that our dressmaker has to offer. Ye must be special. Aye?” Everyone was talking about the lady that the Lord of Dunhaven had brought home.
Aislinn would have laughed if the girl hadn’t given her such a profound look. Special? The man wanted to be rid of her. This much was obvious by the way he had deposited her practically running from the room. He was probably anxious to see that buxom blonde who had greeted them down below. She didn’t know why, but the thought of that woman throwing her arms around him bothered her immensely. “I am just a friend, nothing special. Though I am quite curious, Moira. We haven’t been here long. So how could Dougray arrange all this?”
“Milord sent Teige ahead to prepare. We have known for hours that ye would be arriving. We were to give ye the finest hospitality.”
“Really?” She was baffled over Dougray’s behavior. He argued with her endlessly, managed to piss her off about every other second, but still found time to think of her comforts.
Chapter 18
Dougray was already waiting at the stables when his redheaded friend made his way across the yard. “Ye wanted to see me?”
“Aye, Murrough. I need ye to promise me that ye will guard Aislinn. She is in a strange land and will not understand all our ways.”
“She is different, I will grant ye that. Though I fear that it will be others that will need protecting, especially if they were to catch her ire. She throws a mighty blow. I tell ye this as a friend and hope that ye will never repeat it. The lass nearly did me in.”
Dougray chuckled. “Nay, yer secret is safe with me.”
“What is this lass to ye, Dougray?” Murrough had been wondering about this from the very first moment that they were introduced. The two had been traveling for a few days and apparently alone. “The father, Hennessy, ye say. Will he be seeking compensation?”
“Why would he?”
“Well, ye were not chaperoned…ye are a man and she a…woman.” He hinted further. “Ye did not steal her away, did ye?”
His face split into a grin. “Ye think that the woman could be whisked away, if she did not wish it to be?” He gripped Murrough’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Rest assured, old friend, Hennessys will not be banging down our doors. I have not taken the lass and her virtue was not compromised by me.” He saw the relief spread across Murrough’s face making him chuckle. “And she may forever keep that virtue for no man will want to suffer bodily harm to take it from her.”
“Aye, I can see yer point.” He nodded. “I don’t mean to be changing the subject, but what of the matter with Dermot?”
“Dermot,” he grumbled with a definite frown proving that, for some reason, he still held a grudge toward the lad. “Make sure that he stays away. He is not to ride with us from this day forward. I will not tolerate the behavior that he has bestowed to my honored guest.”
“The lady explained the situation. Will ye not reconsider? Dermot is young….”
“All the more reason to teach him a lesson. He must learn now or he will
forever be making mistakes. Nay, what I say stands.” With this he made his leave.
Murrough crawled into bed where Rhiannon was sitting up, waiting for him. Her sweet smile could make him forget his troubles, but not tonight. He was bewildered over Dougray’s odd behavior. He had known his friend long enough to be aware that he was hiding something from him, but he was not certain what it could be.
Rhiannon had run her hand down his flank making him conscious of how much he needed her touch. He turned to her now gently caressing her cheek. “Ye still worry about, milord?” He was about to say otherwise but she placed a finger on his lips. “Nay, do not go denying it, Murrough O’Donoghue. I see it in yer eyes.”
“Ye know me too well.” He kissed her full lips, lovingly and long for he had missed her so. Still holding her close, he spoke again, “I worry that something more happened those days that Dougray was gone. He seemed not to know how much time had passed.”
“Ye have no cause to worry. Did ye not say that he was preoccupied with the lady?”
“Aye, another piece of the puzzle, to be sure. Lady Aislinn is most unusual, and the way they came to be traveling together has me still baffled.” His red brows slanted in a frown and Rhiannon brushed her lips to them, hoping to draw him out of his seriousness. It seemed to work, for in one swift move, he pulled her onto his lap. “Enough of Dougray.” His finger traced the delicate skin of her neck and let it trail to the more womanly curves. “Tonight, my sweet, I only want to have thoughts of ye.”
“Ye will have no complaints here.”
Fiona was at first pleased that Dougray had come to her, but soon found herself regretting that he had bothered. She tried to entice him with kisses, special caresses that he had in the past enjoyed, but he had remained aloof barely noticing her at all.
“Milord, what has ye so occupied?
Dougray seemed to come out of his trance to find Fiona pouting at him. He on occasion had sought out her company to satisfy the hunger that a man felt, but he never talked to her more than a few minutes at a time. She never seemed to want words from him. Everyone knew that Fiona was free with her affections, but in the last year she had left herself solely for him. Even hinting that they should make a more permanent arrangement. They couldn’t have a marriage in the church for she was not of his rank, but in Brehon law he was allowed to have a marriage of the fourth degree. He looked at her now with her flowing golden hair. She could be called beautiful, but there was something hard and unapproachable in the depths of her eyes. He would never marry her and a part of him felt dreadful that he hadn’t stopped the relationship from the start. If only he hadn’t been so guilt ridden about Ella’s death, or so terribly lonely. Fiona had come to him offering a few moments of solace, and he had selfishly taken it. For a time, he was able to lose himself within her velvety softness, but now it seemed hollow and maybe a little unsound. “I am tired, Fiona.”
“Lie back.” She gently nudged him until he rested his head upon the feather mattress, a gift from him that she had treasured. “I will rub yer back and loosen those tight muscles.” Again he let her guide him by rolling onto his stomach. He rested his chin on the top of his hands. As Fiona tried to work her magic, his mind kept wondering to Aislinn. Annoyingly she had preoccupied his thoughts most of the day. He could see her haughty expression and hear her sharp tongue lecturing. Even with this vision, he still found that he wished that it were her hands touching him and that he was in her bed. He closed his eyes, but still she haunted him. “She-wolf,” he grumbled, sitting up and moving Fiona to the side.
“What have I done?” She sounded like she was near tears.
Dougray sat on the edge of the bed hastily dressing. “It is not ye.”
“But where are ye going? I thought that ye would be staying with me tonight.”
“Nay. I cannot tonight, Fiona. I have been gone too long and have much to accomplish. I cannot relax until then.” Barely dressed, he was out the door as if the hounds of hell were at his heels.
Fiona just sat there, for a moment in stunned silence. She didn’t know what had just happened. Never had his lordship left her bed without satisfying her, or she doing the same for him. She threw on her light spun gown that was almost transparent. She ran to the door to call him back, but he was already too far away for him to hear her.
Cormac had just left his guard duty and happened to see Dougray’s quick departure. He swaggered over to Fiona to see if he could erase the pout on her beautiful face. “Looks like ye are free tonight.” His eyes swept over her body approvingly.
She looked at him, maybe seeing him for the first time. He was a broad-shouldered man with thick thighs. His face was not bad to look at either. It had been a long time since she had offered herself to another but…. She looked to where Dougray was now disappearing into the keep. “It is a c
old night.” “Aye, that it is.” His eyes caressed her softness.
Fiona put on her prettiest smiled. “Ye are still young, Cormac. Do ye even know how to pleasure a woman?”
“Never had complaints before.” He grinned.
She offered her hand to him. “Show me and I may share a few things with ye as well.”
Chapter 19
For two days Aislinn endured the seamstress’, Rhiannon’s, probing and prodding. If the conversation hadn’t been comforting, she would have gone into hiding. Finally Rhiannon had what she needed, and had disappeared to make the elaborate wardrobe that would transform Aislinn into what society would deem a lady. Aislinn could have cared less. She would have liked it better if Rhiannon would just whip her up a pair of comfortable slacks.
Since she had nothing better to do, Aislinn roamed the castle only to find that it was loud and unorganized with a throng of people that warded suspicion. She was afraid to turn her back.
She didn’t see Dougray among the many faces, and even though he irritated her to no end, she would have gladly welcomed his company. Upon making a few inquiries, she was informed that he had been called away on matters concerning his tenants and would not be returning until the end of the week.
Since the first day, Moira had been practically glued to her side, which most of the time Aislinn really didn’t mind. They went outside for it had proven to be an unusually bright and comfortably warm day. Aislinn was surprised to see that Dunhaven was like a small town within the fortification. People bustled around conversing while they tended to their business.
A group of children drew Aislinn’s attention making her wonder what game they were playing by surrounding a young boy. As she neared, she realized that this was not a friendly game for they were taunting the child with sticks. She had every intentions of breaking it up, but before she was able say anything, one of the children threw something at the defenseless boy.
“Milady!” Moira called after her, but Aislinn didn’t hear her for she had already broken into a full run.
“What are you doing?” Aislinn shouted at the children. One large boy turned to look at her, with a mud ball still oozing in his hand. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves, picking on someone when there are five of you.” “It is only Hamish.” A girl with freckles that covered her entire face spoke up.
“And who might you be?” Aislinn asked her.
“Lynelle,” the girl answered. “Are ye the she-man from the castle?”
By this time, Moira had caught up and was quick to correct Lynelle. “This is Lady Aislinn to ye, missy.”
“It’s all right, Moira. I was just getting acquainted with the children and their unusual custom.” She looked to the boy that still held on to his muddy clod as if his very life depended on it. “You, young man…what was your name?”
Lynelle was good enough to answer. “That there be me brother, Regan.” “Ah yes, I do see the resemblance. The same freckles and reddish hair.”
She rubbed her hand on her jaw and paced the group, eyeing each child, who seemed frozen in their places. “Now, Regan, what is this custom? You throw globs of mud at anyone named Hamish?” This caused all the children except the boy in question to burst out laughing. “Did I say something amusing?” They became quiet once more as her eyes swept across each of their faces ending again with Regan. “Well are you not going to answer me?
“Hamish is a cripple.” Regan finally found his voice. “And this means?”
“He’s a cripple,” the boy repeated as though this explained everything. When he realized that it obviously did not, he elaborated. “He is worthless to all, taking our food and doing nothing to earn it.” Regan was rather a large boy who could go without one or two meals.
“I see. So the rule is that you throw clumps of dirt at anyone that is different. Now who decided this? Where did this rule come from?”
They looked at each other wondering who had the answer. Regan decided it didn’t matter and spoke up, “It is just so.”
“Hmm. It is just so.” She paced around the group making sure she made eye contact with each person, last with the muddy boy that they called cripple. She winked at him. The boy’s large eyes nearly popped out of his head. She then turned her attention to Regan. “So how about I make a new rule today?”
“What do ye mean?”
She leaned down and gathered up some of the thick gooey mud. She matted it into a firm ball as she spoke, “I say today that any boy that is a bit over weight and has a face full of freckles is the target.” With that she threw the perfectly round ball straight at the surprised Regan. The mud slid down his face.
“What did ye do that for?” he wailed.
“Isn’t this how it works? Someone that looks different is the target. Come on, boys and girls, join in.” She waved her hands to the kids. She picked up another clump of mud.
“Hey, ye can’t do that.” The boy backed up, just as she threw another dirt clod at him. “Why can’t I? This is rather fun.” She looked at Hamish. “Care to give it a try?” The poor boy just shook his head. “Come on.” She looked around her.
“I’ll give it a try.” Lynelle decided. “He’s always picking on me.” “Lynelle, ye better not or I’ll….” Smack, the mud hit him in the mouth.
With a sputtered scream, he turned and ran away.
“Now who will be next?” Aislinn turned to look at the other kids. They all scattered in every which direction, all except for the boy who had been harassed. Aislinn looked at him now. “Well, Hamish, it is only you and I now, but I think you have had enough fun for one day.”
“Thank ye, milady. I have to be goin’.”
“Sure, but before you do, may I ask what happened to your leg?”
“It doesn’t work.” He patted it with his right hand. “Broke it when I was five and it never grew right. It is a bit shorter than the other one.”
“I see.”
“I’m good for nothin’ just like Regan told ye.” His eyes fell from hers, obviously embarrassed with his situation.
“Well if you believe that then you are nothing.” This made him look at her again. “You can be whatever you set your mind to.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on now what do you want to do?”
He swallowed hard and managed to give her a feeble answer. “I want to be a warrior.”
“A warrior?” She was a bit put back at this, but once she saw the boy’s crestfallen face, she nodded her head. “There are other things that you can do that could mean as much, but if a warrior is what you want to be, then you will have to train for it.”
He lifted his head to see if she was making fun of him. She didn’t appear to be. “Begging your pardon, but how?”
“Well first.” She took hold of his skinny arms as if inspecting them. “We need to build up your muscles.” She glanced down at his bony legs. “We will build up those legs too.” She looked him square in the eyes. “This won’t be easy. So say it now, if you aren’t going to try.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Good. Meet me in the yard tomorrow at the crack of dawn. Mind that you’re not late.”
“I’ll be there.” He actually smiled before he limped away. He turned once and she waved to him.
Moira moved forward now giving her a rag to wipe her hands. “Should ye go promising such a grand feat?”
“I don’t know what makes a warrior, but I would assume that at first he must believe he can be one. I know exercises that will strengthen the body and give him endurance, but the rest will be up to him.”
“But his leg, milady?”
“This could be a problem but we will have to see. The limp seems minor enough; maybe something can be done to compensate for it.”
“Compen…what did ye say?”
“We will have to make do with what we can get our hands on, Moira.” She looked at the girl. “Who makes a good pair of shoes?”
“Shoes?”
; Aislinn had noticed that many did not even own a pair, but for Hamish it would be a necessity. “Yes, shoes. You do know someone, don’t you?”
She nodded still not understanding why she needed a cobbler. “That would be Padrig.”
“Tomorrow we will have to go and see him.” With that Aislinn moved on and Moira had to run to keep up with her. She liked her mistress, but sometimes she was most difficult to follow.
Chapter 20
Dougray wore a grim face as he surveyed the damage of his ship. He was amazed that the men were even able to maneuver their way back home. “Do ye know who attacked ye?”
“They were not flying a flag, but surely it was of the Butler’s doing. It was waiting upon the water like it was a deserted craft. We closed in carefully and that was when they came upon us. Men flying from all places to put the galleon in motion.”
Dougray didn’t comment. He would have immediately thought that this was Fingham’s doing but of late there had been too many incidents that didn’t add up. “Just see to the repairs.”
The man looked at him wondering if he had heard him correctly. Surely there was more. Usually they would retaliate from such an outspoken revolt. “Is there anything else ye need to tell me?” Dougray was well aware that the man was ready to spill blood. He needed to put a stop to it now.
“Nay.” He glanced at Murrough who stood stone faced and unreadable. “I
guess I will see to the repairs then.” He shook his head as he turned to leave.
Dougray walked with Murrough a distance away so that no one would overhear them speak. Murrough broke the silence first. “Ye think that someone else is behind these events?”
“I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. The Butlers are not seafaring, but yet, I cannot fathom who else would want to attack us.”
“It is someone that has taken great pains to see ye ruined, but I am with ye with yer suspicions. There is more that ye have not heard.” Murrough dreaded to be the one to tell him but now there was no other choice. “The men that were to deliver the goods to yer cousin in Dublin…they never arrived. We received word only this morning from Father Fiach himself, direct from St. Michan’s.”
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