Lost in the Mist of Time

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  “Only those who are begging for it,” she answered good-heartedly.

  He sighed as if he had surrendered. “Then I best behave.” Then on a somewhat serious note he addressed his cousin once more. “Yer brother has done well with the Hennessy match. Ye have no reason to worry. What I witnessed earlier with ye, as the brunt of the joke, was enough to convince me that she will keep him in line.”

  “And the Butlers? Do they still cause problems?”

  “That I fear will never be resolved. Ella had been our only hope for our clans to reunite, but her death put an end to that ever happening.”

  “It is as I feared,” she sighed. Then after a moment, she hesitantly asked what she truly wanted to know. “Does Tremain still command the Butler’s men?”

  “Aye.”

  “So the man still lives.” She smiled slightly as she remembered him when he had been barely a man at all. He was strong, handsome, and his beautiful long-fingered hands that knew how to make her feel so very special.

  Fiach couldn’t help but notice the whimsical expression on her face. “He is not the same, Miriam.”

  “I don’t know what ye mean.” She pretended to straighten her attire, but she knew that she couldn’t fool him. No one knew her feelings for Tremain better than Fiach. She had gone to him, begged him to interfere with her father’s decision and then later cried on his shoulder when nothing could be done.

  “Ye were not to marry him, lass.”

  “Maybe if it had been allowed none of this mess with the Butlers would have transpired.”

  “He had no lands and yer were the daughter of…”

  “…a Chieftain’s daughter. Ye think that I do not know this?” “With Tremain, ye tended to forget that fact.”

  “So this is why I was sold to the highest bidder.” “Yer husband cared for ye.”

  “Aye, but the man was near seeing his sixty-fifth year and older in body. My only salvation was that he was too old to care to share my bed more than a few times, and God forgive me, his death was my salvation.” “Is this a confession, my dear?”

  “How come it is convenient now that ye remember ye are a priest?” She tried to make light of her feelings.

  “It wouldn’t do well for ye to lose yer immortal soul,” he teased her. “Do not worry about my soul.”

  He placed a hand on her arm. “Ye have a fine lad,” he gently reminded her. Her face was serene, as she thought of her son Oren who was now almost fourteen years old. The only child she would ever have, and she loved him so much. “Aye, Oren has made my sacrifices tolerable.”

  “Is that why ye keep the boy at yer side? It is most unusual, ye know this.” “He has been fostered out for a year at a time, but he comes home every three months for schooling by the best tutors. It is the way I want it.” “I was only inquiring, my dear.”

  “Well, try not to be so nosey with my doings and concentrate on my brother’s transgressions. He is the one who is not married in the eyes of the church.”

  “I intend to remedy that. Of course, Abbot Kirwan has it in his mind that it is his responsibility.”

  “Kirwan.” Her definite frown showed her displeasure. “When I was a little girl, the man could make my hackles rise and now…” Her eyes wandered to where the abbot was seated. At that moment, the man had turned his head and caught her gaze. He smiled, or at least she thought he had before he turned away to carry on his conversation with the physician, Cahir. “…he still makes me uneasy.”

  “Granted, Kirwan can go overboard with his beliefs, but he is harmless.” “Do not trust the man just because he wears the same cloth. I sense a snake.”

  He chuckled. “I never ignore a woman’s intuition. Warning heeded, cousin. Warning heeded.”

  The dance ended far too soon to Aislinn’s liking for she was just getting the hang of it, but Dougray had other things on his mind. He had led her away from the crowd and into the corridor. “Where are we going?”

  “Nowhere, Aislinn.” He pressed his lips to hers as he held her close. She fought him like the devil, finally biting his lip. He released her. “What was that for?” He wiped the blood with the back of his hand.

  “You have to ask? Every time I turn around, you are jumping on me.”

  He took a step forward and she backed up against the wall. “Did ye ever think that ye are driving me to distraction.”

  “That’s not my intent.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was so dangerously attractive with the scowl that penetrated his rugged features. She was about tempted to let him finish what he had started.

  “Oh, I think it is yer intent and ye are bound and determined to deny yerself as well.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked away but his hand shot out holding her chin in the palm of his hand, forcing her to look at him. He studied her for a long time making her feel uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. She wanted him to let her go, and at the same time, she wanted him to kiss her again.

  “I ask ye before and I ask ye now: What do ye want from me, Aislinn?” Didn’t he realize she wanted everything? She wanted him to take her, for her body craved his touch, but the price was too great, for without love it would be meaningless. Her emotions were running high and her voice sounded choked. “I want nothing from you, but my freedom.” Before he could say anything, she broke free and she fled from his sight.

  Fiach finally spotted Dougray alone and he took advantage of the moment. Many of the guests had retired for the evening, but still there were others who would continue on throughout the night. Dougray had seen to the preparations, so that no one left Dunhaven without having his fill. No one would ever say that a Fitzpatrick was not generous.

  “I am quite surprised, dear cousin, that ye are still up and about. Have ye tired so soon of yer wife that ye have already left her bed?” Fiach saw Dougray frown before he could conceal it behind a chuckle.

  “I have guests to tend to or have ye forgotten that?” He moved over so that Fiach could take a seat. The priest handed him a tankard seeing immediately that the man was in dire need of a drink.

  “I trust ye have had all that ye need, Fiach?” “Aye, rest assured I have not been neglected.”

  They sat together enjoying their drink and company. No words were needed. It had always been that way with them, and though years had separated them, nothing had changed.

  “Pardon me for saying,” Fiach waited for Dougray to look at him before he continued, “the lass ye have taken to wed, she is most unusual. Is it correct to say that ye won her in a fight of wills?” “A fair fight, I assure ye.”

  “She is a woman. How fair could it have been?” Fiach was still at a loss how this could have taken place. It was true that Aislinn was large in stature, but surely she could not have been strong enough to battle a seasoned man. “Aislinn is very talented in techniques that are new to us. She may not have the bulk of a warrior, but she makes up with her ability to spot weakness, and she is quick. I have never seen someone move the way that she can. She is able to toss a man that weighs twice the amount that she does, and with such ease that ye would think they weighed no more than a feather.”

  “And yet ye were able to best her?”

  Dougray chuckled remembering her face when he had pinned her to the ground. “That, Fiach, was luck. Let me just say that I distracted her from her purpose.”

  The priest raised a brow. “Ye did now? Why would ye do such an act when it was said ye wanted her married and gone from yer keep? This does have me baffled. What exactly changed yer mind?”

  “Simply that I decided that I did not want her to leave.”

  “Ye changed yer mind, did ye? So Dubhdara O’Malley did not have a say in the matter?”

  “He was not opposed to the union.” “And the Hennessy?”

  “I found Aislinn’s uncle quite cooperative, especially when I explained that it was Aislinn who had set up the stipulations. She knew the consequences and she took the challenge willing
ly.”

  “And the marriage was done the ancient way?”

  Dougray took a long sip from his cup before he answered, “Is this a lecture, Fiach? Will ye say that my soul will be damned?”

  Fiach just laughed at the seriousness of his cousin’s question. “Yer soul was in danger long before ye wed the young lass. I was only curious.” Dougray sighed. “It was not my wish to have it done this way, but it was the only way that the Hennessy would agree to the union. Ye see, he had not been informed of the arrangements before hand and he felt a certain obligation toward his niece, since her father could not be present.”

  “I understand everything up to this point, but still I am not sure I understand why ye are down here drinking when ye should be upstairs with yer wife.”

  Dougray thought about not explaining, but then it would do him well to confide in someone. Who better than a priest? “She is not in agreement with this union. She feels that I tricked her in some way and will not see it otherwise.”

  “This was not so then?”

  “Of course not.” He seemed a little defensive to Fiach, but years of being a priest had taught him patience. He waited until Dougray decided to continue. “I played her game and I won. It is her pride that has been sorely tested. Ye see she had been confident that she would be the victor.”

  “She had no wish to marry ye?”

  “She had no wish to marry anyone.”

  “Really? She had a wish to enter the convent?”

  This caused Dougray to laugh. “Dar Dia! The woman would be kicked out the moment she arrived. Nay, it is more complicated than that. She has the notion that marriage should be one of love.”

  Fiach seemed to be considering this for a moment before he chose just the right words. “It is not always a top priority, but it has been known to happen on occasion.”

  “Ye surprise me, cousin. Are ye now the romantic?”

  “Hardly. I only tell ye that it has been something I have witnessed. Yer parents for one. Ye must remember this.”

  “Aye. My father would have a way of looking at my mother and I swear she would blush as though he had caressed her. It was a silent communication that only they understood. An envious relationship, but not one that can be easily duplicated.”

  “Nay? So it was not that way with ye and Ella?” “I loved her, but….”

  “Ye have comparison now to know the difference?” Fiach questioned. Dougray brows arched. “What are ye saying?”

  “Have ye found love with the Scathach?”

  “Love is a complicated emotion and obviously I have yet to figure it out.

  I will tell ye this: I care for the lass and cannot fathom the idea of not having her at my side.”

  “Ye no doubt told her this?” When Dougray chose to study his drink and not answer him, Fiach was good enough to repeat the question for him. “Ye have spoke of yer devotion?”

  “She must know it. I do not see the need to voice it to her.”

  Fiach chuckled. “Oh, dear lad, do ye not know the ways of a lass? Women love to hear that they are wanted.”

  “And how is it, priest, that ye are worldly of these matters?”

  “Aah, again the assumption that because I wear the robes that I have ceased to be a man. For shame, Dougray, ye need to find yer way up those stairs and speak openly, as ye have done to me just now.”

  “I would if it would make a difference, but as I told ye before she wants to be in love before she gives herself willingly. My cold bed is proof enough that she does not feel these affections toward me.”

  Chapter 46

  As soon as Aislinn was dressed, she located Teige so that he could escort her to Rhiannon and Padrig’s home. She was anxious to pick up Declan and bring him back to the castle.

  The boy still had not spoken a single word, but he was starting to show signs of healing. He may not verbally answer her, but he was aware of what she was saying. At times, he would even nod his head in response. She had told him that she would pick him up a few days after the wedding, and she did not want to break that promise for fear he might worry that she had abandoned him.

  Declan must have been watching for her arrival for he ran out of the house to greet her, his blond hair flying back away from his forehead. Aislinn scooped up the little boy with open arms and swung him around. “Oh, Declan, how I missed you.”

  The boy’s embrace became tighter indicating he returned the same sentiment. Aislinn raised her gaze to see Rhiannon smiling in the doorway.

  Dougray already had a hunch where Aislinn had gone, and as soon as he had the opportunity, he headed over to the old thatched home. She was so busy with the child and talking to Rhiannon that, for a moment, he had the pleasure of just watching her. She was so patient with the lad, even when for no apparent reason, Declan decided to jump on her back. She just laughed and pulled the naughty little boy onto her lap tickling him until he was giggling.

  Dougray moved forward. It was his shadow falling across her that brought her attention to him.

  “Good day, milord.” Rhiannon had risen. “I must check on the bread.” She already knew by what Aislinn had revealed to her that the two of them needed to talk. “Come with me, Declan.” The boy hesitated, but once Aislinn gave him a quick hug and a tender push, he followed Rhiannon into the house. Aislinn stood up.

  “Will ye walk with me?” he asked her and she nodded. They started forward and Dougray motioned to Teige that he need not follow. “Ye are a natural with children, Aislinn.”

  “A compliment?”

  He looked at her. “Aislinn…” Why of late was talking to her so difficult? He gently took her arm and stopped her from going further. “Ye would make a good mother.”

  “I am not so sure about that. Mothering requires a lot of patience and commitment. Not my better qualities I’m afraid.”

  “I see differently. The children adore ye. Young Declan would not have come so far if ye had not shown such compassion toward the lad.” Aislinn just shrugged wondering where all this was leading. Her eyes took in Dougray’s appearance. His dark hair curled at the ends and she could see that it was still wet, indicating he must have bathed before he set out to find her. His mustache was trimmed back leaving his mouth visible to her eyes. She was mesmerized over those full lips that had kissed her so lovingly. As she remembered his touch, she felt a tingling all the way to the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t deny that she felt this draw toward him, more so than she wished

  it to be, but it would be dangerous for her to lose sight of the situation. He was a sixteenth century lord and she was….

  “What did you say?” She only caught the last few words and they were enough to startle her back to reality. He was good enough to repeat the statement.

  “I could give ye children of yer own.”

  “That is what I thought you said.” She tried to walk away, but he took a hold of her shoulders making her look at him.

  “Ye told me that ye want to be in love. I ask ye now if ye would even recognize it?” Her hesitation pushed him forward. “Ye do not detest my company, do ye?”

  “No,” she said slowly.

  “I will try my best to make ye happy, Aislinn.” “By giving me children?”

  “If that is yer desire?”

  He just did not get it. Giving herself to him was frightening enough, but the idea of being a mother on top of that scared her to death. She was about to tell him exactly that. But when she lifted her gaze to meet his, she found herself lost within the clear silvery depths of his eyes, pleading eyes, hopeful eyes. The only thing that held her back from throwing herself at him was her own stubborn convictions and she wouldn’t compromise them, not now, and no matter how compelling her attraction was to him. “I cannot be a mother.

  I don’t want to be one.” She pulled away from him and walked back to Rhiannon’s leaving him confused.

  He saw the way she had looked at him, and he was sure that she wanted to give in to the obvious passions that they both sh
ared, but for some reason she always chose to shy away. “Love,” he muttered under his breath. He watched Aislinn pick up Declan as though he was her own child. She declared she did not want to be a mother, and yet she gladly took on the roll for the young lad. The woman was a walking contradiction.

  Lady Miriam had run into Moira, who was taking Declan up for his nap. She was good enough to inform her that she could find Aislinn in the library. Aislinn looked so comfortable there, wearing her unusual clothing and preoccupied with her writing, that she almost didn’t want to interrupt. Curiosity won out for she wished to know a little about the woman whom her brother had challenged.

  Aislinn looked up from her writing as Miriam pulled up a chair next to the desk. She smiled warmly. “I do hope that I am not intruding.”

  “No, not at all.” She put down the quill. Leaning back in her chair, she smiled back at Miriam. Dougray’s sister was a beautiful woman with classic features with her hair, a luminous buttercup yellow, fair skin and baby-blue eyes framed with long, dark lashes. The only resemblance she held to her brother was her quick easy smile and the way she raised her beautifully shaped brows. “Did you manage to find something to eat?” Aislinn opened the conversation.

  “Aye. The food was wonderful. I should really have yer cook give mine some helpful hints.”

  “Roth does have a special touch. I don’t believe that he has made anything that didn’t taste absolutely mouth watering.”

  Miriam leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand. She wore a bemused smile on her lips, for she found that she liked that Aislinn was on first name basis with the help. “Is it really true that ye fought my brother in a tournament of sorts?”

  Aislinn’s face flushed pink with embarrassment for here before her was a woman with such refined grace and elegance making her seem nothing more than a street urchin in comparison. She wished now that she had at least donned a gown this morning, instead of throwing on her homemade pants and her reliable blue sweatshirt. She lifted her hand to smooth down her hair, hoping it wasn’t sticking up in places. “I’m afraid that it is true.”