Lost in the Mist of Time

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  “Oh ye understand it well enough. Ye risked yer life for a man who was not worthy for ye to bother with.”

  His flippant remark angered her. “Not worthy? And who gave you the right to decide that?”

  He straightened to his full height, his brows drawing together in an angry frown. “The man has never held his own. Even the trivial of tasks, he has botched up. That is why I know this. I only gave him a chance as a favor I owed to his family.”

  “You call sleeping and eating with the dogs a favor? He is barely a man, Dougray, in case you hadn’t noticed. Haven’t you ever made mistakes?”

  “Ye do not have a right to criticize me. I was doing Dermot a favor by toughening him up, for there is no room for mistakes. Ye make an error and yer dead.”

  She hadn’t thought that he was only issuing a lesson to the man. She had forgotten that she was from a different world. “But you were going to kill him.” She couldn’t forget the rage in his eyes.

  “If any man ever tried to molest ye….” He paused for a moment, surprised at his own admission with his sense of protecting her as if she were his. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I would do the same for any woman.” “Oh.” She turned away wondering why she was disappointed that she was lumped into a group worthy of his protection. She looked to where a crowd had circled around Dermot as he told his tale.

  “Ye never answered me why ye did it.” She didn’t have to turn around to know that he was standing very close to her.

  She sighed, wondering if she could ever make him understand. “To give the man back his life.”

  Dougray’s eyes wandered over to where Dermot was standing. He was nearly beaming with pride. He then gazed at the woman responsible for it all. She was such a mystery to him. She did things that he didn’t understand. She took cripples under her wing, befriended the servants, and now she risked harm to herself for a stranger. “Ye could have fallen to yer death.”

  She turned toward him with a beguiling smile. “I was never at any risk. What I did was child’s play. I’ve done more daring escapades at home.”

  “Hmm. I am just beginning to understand this. But we can have no more.” He took another step closer to her. He reached out and she flinched, causing him to look at her curiously. “Yer hair piece is loose.” This time when he lifted his hand toward her she stood still, letting him refasten the shimmering piece. “There. Not as perfect as Moira could do, but it will suffice.” His eyes met her dark ones, wishing he could read her thoughts, for there was so much emotion in those depths. “Now, I implore ye to listen to reason. No more climbing out windows, and…” He motioned over his shoulder. “…no more dangling from ledges, and in return, I will not be so hard on Dermot. Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes, my lord.” She even curtsied causing him to chuckle.

  “Why is it when ye say ‘aye, milord’ I think ye mean something entirely of a different sort?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She batted her eyes.

  “Tell me, Aislinn.” He took a hold of her arm, as he led her out to join the others. “Were ye this much trouble for yer parents?”

  “Oh much, much more. I had to keep up with all of Connor’s antics.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  Aislinn excused herself when the time seemed appropriate and Dougray made it a point to escort her personally back to her room. She leaned against the door, feeling the effects of all the wine that she had consumed.

  Dougray touched her flush cheek as his eyes caressed hers. “Aislinn….” He seemed lost for the right words that he wanted to use.

  She thought that maybe he was going to kiss her. Surprisingly, she was almost hoping that he would. When she heard him sigh, she knew that for some reason, he had changed his mind. “Well, I’ll bid ye good night.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  “Good night?” She couldn’t help but sound a little disappointed. “Jeez, my lord.” She lightly touched his forearm. “I got all dressed up and everything. Don’t I qualify for a good-night kiss?”

  He slightly lifted his brows trying not to show his surprise at her request. She took his silence as a rejection. Her smile dropped. “Well don’t let me force you.” She turned to open her door, but his hand shot out to stop her. She stood frozen in time, her back to his hard chest. Gently he turned her around to face him.

  “I did not mean to offend ye. Ye merely took me by surprise.” He gently brushed his hand against her cheek and his eyes lingered on her parted lips.

  “I have wanted to kiss ye all evening…” He was very close now, his breath lightly touching hers. “…among other things.” He claimed her lips before she could ask him what he meant. Hot, moist, so demanding was his ardor that it sent a tingling feeling down to the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes and gave into the warmth that was washing over her. His tongue gently teased until she let him taste her fully. She felt herself weakening to the forceful domination of his lips and he pressed against her, leaving no doubt how much

  he wanted her. Warning bells went off in her brain. She couldn’t let it go that far, for there could never be a future for them. Reluctantly she managed to turn her head breaking the caress.

  “I think we’d better stop.” Her words came out in a ragged breath.

  For a moment, he considered not releasing her from his grip, but he knew if he kissed her again he would want more than she was willing to give. “Aye,” he cleared his throat, agreeing with her. “Ye sleep well, Aislinn.” His hand lingered on her shoulder. Feeling her tremble, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, but she quickly turned away and opened the door. Safely inside the arch now, she felt that she could breathe easier and she turned to him with a smile. “You’re a pretty good kisser, my lord, almost as good as you quarrel.”

  The smile that spread across his handsome face caused her heart to beat a little faster. Thank goodness she was halfway behind the thick, wood door or she might have thrown her arms around him begging him to stay.

  “What a pleasant surprise it was to me,” she could hear the teasing note in his voice, “that ye’re mouth could be used for something other than yelling insults.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, and on that note, again good night.” She shut the door before she wouldn’t be able to.

  Dougray leaned his head against the barrier. Closing his eyes he willed himself not to throw caution to the wind and take the woman. What a surprise it was to him that she could intoxicate his senses so that he could barely see reason.

  Dougray led Robert Burke and the O’Malley to the Great Hall, while the others continued the festivities above. Murrough was also present and shut the door behind them.

  “Ye do yerself well.” O’Malley patted his stomach. “I have not had such a feast in a long time.”

  “I am honored to have ye here as my guest.” He walked over to the table where a decanter and goblets were set. “Whiskey?” he offered.

  “Don’t mind that I do.” O’Malley settled himself on one of the chairs near the fireplace, so that he could warm his hands.

  “And ye, Robert?” Dougray was not sure how to take this man. His reputation as a fine warrior and leader preceded him, but he was too quiet for Dougray’s liking, making him believe that the man had much to hide.

  “Why not?” Robert answered him after a long moment. He then moved closer to the fire.

  Murrough came forward to relieve Dougray of two of the small goblets filled with the strong-grained whiskey and handed one to each of the guests.

  “Can I speak frankly?” Dubhdara O’Malley looked at his host. “Aye.” Dougray nodded.

  “I like ye, lad.” The older man leaned forward resting his forearms on the top of his knees. “I know that ye want to guarantee loyalties to me in exchange that I give ye support from the Butler attacks, and as well if others decide to question yer loyalties here with the clans. I may have a mind to do so on the mere sentiment that ye are related by blood, no matter how far and i
n between it is now, but there is more that I seek. Being that ye are near to the other side of the country, it may be an advantage to have eyes and ears where I have not had them before…for a price that is.

  “What is it ye have in mind?”

  “A portion of the profits ye make from yer sea ventures. I have heard that ye have done quite well.”

  “Well enough, though I have heard the same thing about ye. What could I possibly have that ye could not already attain for yerself?”

  “It is always wise to have an alternate plan. Ye never know when hard luck might strike.”

  “What of the trouble we have in the Northeast?” Robert spoke up not liking that Dubhdara would so readily lend a hand. “Do we dare pull out men from our garrison for Fitzpatrick’s needs? It rankles me, O’Malley, that ye would give yer word to the Fitzpatrick, when ye know full well that he has been granted back the lands from his association with the Tudor King.”

  “We could question yer worth also.” Murrough stepped forward hand on the hilt of his sword as he eyed Robert. “Ye are of Anglo-Norman descent. Ye are not of Gaelic blood though ye claim the ways.”

  “Nay, he has the right to speak.” Dougray put down his drink, resting a hand on his friend’s arm. “I do not deny that I have been living in England, being schooled and approved by the English society. And when the time arose to take back what was rightfully mine, I did it wisely without spitting on the man that granted it. Ye may not want to hear it, but hear it ye must. King Henry’s reach is far. He is dangerous in his ambition and should not be brushed aside. That is why we should band together here before it is too late.”

  “Loyal as yer father was?” Burke spat not even hiding his sarcasm.

  Dougray’s anger chilled his eyes with reserve and his voice was just as cold and exact. “My father was forced to comply or see his family slain. He did what a man could under such circumstances. Never did he grant fidelity to the Tudor King.”

  “Nay, he left that to his son.”

  O’Malley, not wanting the evening to end in a full-out battle before negotiations could even begin, decided to calm the heated conversation. “We have much to discuss before we come to an agreement that fits well on all sides.” He looked to Robert and then to his host hoping for signs that the tension would ease between them. “For tonight, I wish to call this meeting to an end. I thank ye again for your hospitality, Fitzpatrick, but my weary bones cry for rest.”

  “As ye wish.” Dougray bowed before his eyes landed on Robert Burke’s expression of clouded anger. The man may prove to be a problem.

  O’Malley had already left the hall with his men but still Robert stayed until he had finished his drink. Finally he came forward to announce his leave.

  “Rest well.” Dougray tried to remain detached. “Hopefully ye will come to understand that I only wish to enhance what is already yers.”

  Burke refused to be pacified. “Maybe ye can fool the Dubhdara, but ye can not pull the lamb’s wool over my eyes.”

  He looked at him with a sardonic expression. “Are ye saying that the O’Malley does not know what is presented to him?”

  Burke’s face turned red, his nostrils flaring in his anger and his hand went to his sword. Murrough moved forward his intent just as evident. For a tense moment, Dougray actually thought that Burke would draw his weapon on him, but then an uncertainty crept into his expression as he eyed both of his opponents. He was not a careless man and knew the odds of killing Fitzpatrick and surviving the act were next to none. He forced himself to remain calm and he carefully lowered his hand to his side. “I think that it is best that we discuss this in the morning.”

  “Aye,” Dougray agreed. With a quick nod, Burke turned on his heels and left the hall.

  “I’ll have him watched.” Murrough didn’t bother to hide his dislike of the man.

  “He wasn’t very friendly, was he?” Dougray went over to the table to pour himself another drink. It wasn’t every day that his life was threatened in such a manner.

  “And what do ye make of the O’Malley?”

  “He is a good man; honest is what I have heard. If he says that he will side with us, we need not fear that he won’t do as he says.” Dougray looked at Murrough. “Any news on the latest attack?”

  “As always, the signs point to Fingham Butler.”

  Dougray thought about this as he swirled the liquid in his cup, watching it as it spun around, threatening to spill over the rim. He sighed and raised his head to look at Murrough. “Fingham has made attacks, but not ones like these. Someone knew that the shipment of supplies had come in. They could have easily taken it at the port without killing anyone. Why would they wait?” “Fingham is tired of the cat and mouse game. Maybe he is ready to end this.”

  “Ye think that? He has claimed more than once that he wants to see me dead.”

  “He wants to see ye suffer first.”

  “Aye, that too, but never has he killed so maliciously. It has always been in a fair fight. Do ye not see the difference?”

  Murrough nodded his head in agreement. “But if it is not him, then with whom do we deal?”

  “That, my friend, is a very good question. Obviously someone who has taken great pains to make me believe the Butlers were responsible, someone who wants me to flat out retaliate to avenge the deaths, but the question is why?”

  Chapter 28

  Aislinn had dressed in her homemade slacks that Rhiannon had sewn for her. The material was somewhat different than she was used to, but they were comfortable and that was what really mattered. She threw on her sweatshirt and was ready to go. She had plans to spend the morning with Neala before she was to meet with Hamish for another lesson.

  At first she had made the visits with Neala because she thought that she could learn something about the mist that had carried her through time, but now she found that she actually enjoyed their conversations.

  She had been walking for some time before she noticed that she was being followed. She was a little concerned since Dougray had made such a fuss about security, but did she listen? No, here she was out again by herself, and Teige probably searching for her.

  She quickly hurried on ahead until she reached a curve in the path, and then slowly backtracked. Careful not to make a sound, she crouched down on her haunches and waited.

  She was rather surprised when she saw that her would-be attacker was only a young girl. She didn’t recognize the child as one from the keep. She could only assume that she had arrived with one of the guests that she had met last night. She moved from her hiding place, purposely startling the girl to awareness.

  “Ye scared me!” she shouted as her hand flew to her chest.

  Aislinn realized the girl was much younger than she had originally thought. She still had the rounded childish look about her, but she was tall with strong Gaelic features, dark long hair. She was quite tanned making the color of her eyes a startling pale blue. “Is there a reason that you are following me?” She was curious to know.

  The girl had recovered somewhat from her fright and stepped forward. “I’m Gráinne Ni Mhálle.” She said her name with an almost smug look upon her face.

  Aislinn couldn’t help but laugh a loud contagious laugh that took the young girl completely by surprise.

  “Why are ye laughing at me?”

  “I’m sorry but you announced your name as if I should bow down and give you a certain amount of reverence.”

  Gráinne seemed to lose some of her haughtiness for she had no wish to offend the Lady Aislinn. “I’m the daughter of Owen Dubhdara.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize that he had a daughter.”

  “He sometimes let’s me sail with him, but my mother does not approve.” She tilted her head to one side. “Why are ye dressed in men’s…what exactly are those. They do not look like trews?”

  “No, they aren’t. They’re pants that are quite popular in my country, and I prefer them to the confining dresses that are either too tight, or too
long. I like my freedom to move with ease.”

  The girl nodded her head. “I see yer point. I have often thought that too. May I walk with ye?”

  “I suppose Neala will not mind one more visitor. Come on.” She waved her hand for her to follow and they started back on the trail.

  “What should I call ye?” the little girl asked. “A.J. would be fine.”

  “Ye may call me Grania…if ye want to.” “All right, Grania it shall be.”

  The girl was not familiar with all the words that Aislinn spoke even though she used Gaelic. Some of her speech seemed foreign, but she caught on quick enough. “Do ye always go as ye please without an escort?”

  “Only when I can sneak out.”

  The little girl chuckled; the echoing seemed to shock her and she covered her mouth embarrassed that she had been so loud.

  Aislinn stopped in her tracks with her hands on her hips. “Now what kind of laugh was that?”

  Grania just shrugged.

  “If you are going to bother to laugh at all, then you should let loose, letting the laughs come from the gut. Like this.” She let out a bellow causing the birds to fly from their nests. “Now you try.”

  Grania tried but it was anything but boisterous. She looked at Aislinn for approval.

  “Tsk, tsk Grania. You are the daughter of a great Chieftain. Is that all you can do?”

  Grania gave her a defiant look. With hands on her hip, legs spread slightly apart she leaned back her head and let out a guffaw that was worthy of someone that was much older than she.

  “Now that was better.”

  They continued on, but after a long moment the girl spoke again in a most serious manner. “A.J., I think that my mother will not like me laughing so. She will think that I sound like a man.”

  “Maybe so, but men do not have the cornerstone on laughter. If you find something is humorous, then by all means let loose.”

  “I will remember that.”

  Neala was waiting for them. She had hot water boiling and three cups set out with herbs ready to make her concoction that nearly resembled tea. Aislinn often longed to have the real thing, but in this century, coffee and tea had not become a popular drink yet.