Lost in the Mist of Time

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  For a long moment, she stared at liquid gleaming in the light, twirling it in her hand. She could take it and with a clear conscience. It wouldn’t be a lie anymore. Her gaze found his and she saw his eyes darken with emotion, so tender, so trusting. With what she held in her palm, it would erase what possibly their coupling could have created this very night. He was giving her the choice even though it went against all that he believed in. Again, she looked at the vial and she knew in her heart that the decision had already been made.

  He watched her take the stopper out of the container. How he wanted to beg her not to drink from it, but he knew that he couldn’t. It had to be her decision.

  Aislinn breathed heavily with her resolve, and with a weak smile to him, she poured the contents out.

  “Do ye know what ye have done?” She nodded.

  His eyes never left hers. There he sat so tall, strong and yet so vulnerable. “Don’t make me leave our bed.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “I don’t want you to, and I will not let you send me away to my uncle’s. I belong beside you, Dougray.”

  He pulled her to him then kissing her soundly before crushing her against his chest.

  Her hands curled around the fabric of his shirt. There was more that she needed from him. He wanted to share her bed, that much he had made clear, but he had also made arrangements to send her away. He desired her in body but was there anything else to their relationship? She had to know. “Why did you come after me this night? You could have put yourself in further danger by coming here.”

  “Why?” He pushed her away so that he could look at her, for he could not believe she would even question his motives. “Is it not obvious to ye then?” Her eyes seemed to widen and she nervously shook her head that she truly did not know the answer. “Aislinn.” The way he spoke her name seemed more like a caress causing her heart to flutter. He leaned forward then and brushed his warm lips to hers. When he spoke again his voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “I would never allow harm to come to ye, lass, not as long as I draw breath.

  I love ye. So much so, I would die for ye.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, she felt a warm glow flow through her. He did love her. But then his last words floated back to her. I would die for ye. A sickening knowing dread hit her full force. The words he had spoken were the very ones she had heard that day on the tour of St. Michan’s. She knew with all clarity that it had been Dougray’s remains that had lain there, the man that had died a horribly unjust death. Had she been the cause then? Or was the voice of the ghost long dead only a premonition of what was to come?

  Her fear that he would perish before her eyes made her desperate to hold him. She kissed him fiercely, practically devouring his lips. He greeted her willingly, but he could sense something was greatly troubling her. He gently pushed her away again so he could see her face. The raw fear that he saw in her eyes could not be ignored.

  “What is it, Aislinn?”

  “I heard you say those words before…in here…in my time. There were coffins….”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “When I took the tour with my family, I couldn’t shake a foreboding that I felt as I descended the steps. I must have known something…sensed it. I don’t know how, but you spoke to me. Those words, Dougray. I felt your spirit touch me.” He looked overwhelmingly startled and how could he not when he had just been told that his death was sealed. She kissed him again. “I won’t allow it. Knowing what could happen must surely mean that we can prevent it. It’s the reason that I’m here. A life for a life.”

  “What are ye talking about?”

  “Neala told me that we would have to give sacrifices.” She squeezed his arm. “Our baby, Dougray, surely this means you will not be taken from me also.” She again buried her face in his chest.

  “The old woman claims what is written is so.”

  “Then why bother?” She pulled away and stood. She waved her hands wildly in the air. “Why bother to have the knowledge to tell the damned of their future if there is nothing that can be done?”

  “To prepare,” he said calmly. “If I must perish, rest assured I will not go without a fight.”

  “What?” She couldn’t believe that he was taking this so calmly.

  “No one wants to meet their maker without being prepared. Ye have warned me, Aislinn. I will make preparations.”

  She was petrified now for he was talking about his horrible demise like it was a planned outing. She ran her hand across her mouth in a nervous gesture. Didn’t he understand? She had viewed his cold remains where he had been laid to rest. Rest? Rest was not what his spirit had wanted, or else he would not have reached out to her. She couldn’t abide with what had been done to him.

  Dougray watched the coloring in her lovely face turn to gray. He quickly made her sit down. She touched his warm rugged face that was so full of life and the tears began to fall once more. She was going to lose him. He would die and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  “Tell me, Aislinn. Tell me what ye know.”

  “I don’t have the details. No one knew…Oh God…Don’t let them capture you, Dougray. Whatever you do, don’t let them capture you.”

  “I will….”

  She wouldn’t let him finish for she had to make him see how dire this was. “You don’t understand.”

  “Ye have forewarned me and I will be ever so cautious.”

  “I love you so much, Dougray. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Ye love me?” “Oh, for so long. Maybe from the beginning, but I was too afraid to admit it. I have had so many failed relationships that I thought I was incapable of having one. I believed there was something wrong with me, but then I realized that the reason I couldn’t commit was because my heart belonged to someone already. My soul already was aware of you, and no one could take your place.”

  “Dar Dia! Why did ye not tell me so?” “I thought you knew.”

  He shook his head. “Stubborn fools we have been.”

  “Not any more, Dougray. We’ve wasted too much time as it is.” Her hands began to roam down the length of his body, wanting him to hold her again, needing him.

  “What are ye doing, milady?” he said with a half smile hoping to deter her thoughts to something more pleasant. He longed to have her in his arms, but without fear driving her to passion.

  “I need you.” Parting her lips, she raised herself to meet his kiss. A low growl escaped him and he once again lowered her to the blankets. “You don’t think Father Fiach will be back unexpectedly?” she worriedly asked.

  “Nay.” He already knew his cousin was giving them time alone when he had informed them that he would not return until morning. “We have all night and I plan on making every second count. That is as soon as I remove yer clothes. I want to feel every bit of ye.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “What…?” Then he saw her mouth tug at a smile.

  “You will have to remove yours too, Dougray Fitzpatrick.”

  “Aye. It would only be fair.” His mouth then moved over hers, devouring its sweet softness, their clothes melting away until nothing was between them but their burning desires. Poised above her, he looked down at her sweet face. Her eyes were closed, her long dark eyelashes lying curled upon her flush cheeks. “Look at me, Aislinn,” he breathed wanting her to know the truth of what he was feeling, what she meant to him. Her eyelids fluttered open, where unquenchable warmth touched him in return. His heart bursting with love, he plunged deep inside of her, fastening onto their sense of being, binding them together as they reached a height of passion that they had never known before. At that moment of truth, Dougray didn’t care if this was his last day on earth. Aislinn was his, through all time, heart, body and soul.

  Chapter 71

  Hamish waited patiently until Cahir had left the room where he kept all his herbs and potions that were
fitting for apothecary. Finally the man had left, humming a tune obviously feeling he had not a care in the world. The room was covered from one end to other with shelves and shelves of glass, and horn containers with dry roots were hanging from the ceiling.

  Hamish wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he still entered. All of the bottles were labeled, for what good it did him. He could not read, but he recognized some of the items by sight because of their magical properties. There was Saracen root, lavender, periwinkle and saffron were among the few. Cahir had stones in other jars, amethyst, coral, sapphire, and bezoars stone, which was a stony mass found in a goat’s stomach. He browsed further and found a jar that was hidden among the physician’s books. Dust flew when he moved a few items aside. He pulled the bottle free to have a look at it. It wasn’t labeled. It seemed odd that it wasn’t since everything else had precise lettering indicating exactly what herb or stone it contained. He was about to open the bottle when he heard someone approaching from outside. He quickly placed the item back where he had found it, making sure the books were in place. Seconds before he would have been caught, he dove under the desk where crates and a large trunk were stored. He barely breathed as he waited for the person to leave. He knew it wasn’t Cahir for he had caught a glimpse of the man’s feet that were bound with leather straps. He was sure that the physician preferred to go without.

  It seemed like a lifetime, but finally the man left. If he had been waiting for Cahir to arrive, he hadn’t waited very long.

  Hamish came out of his hiding place and brushed off the dirt from his clothes. He was about to make his exit, when something caught his eye. He walked over to where the hidden bottle had been placed. He couldn’t see it and he moved aside the books and now he knew why. The bottle was gone.

  Cahir was out gathering items to replenish his supplies and was in a fairly good mood. He had been visiting the widow Eileen and she seemed to be warming to his affections. She promised a meal for him tonight and he was looking forward to the evening.

  A shadow fell across his arm. Startled he turned to see who had come up behind him. When he recognized the person, he let out a sigh of relief. “What are ye doing out here?” He was about to turn his attention back to his work, but a glint of something shiny had caught his eyes. Before he realized the person’s intent, the cold steel had slashed across his neck. He fell back, looking up at his murderer’s cold hard features. A few thoughts flitted across his mind, and he tried to voice them but only a gurgle of blood escaped his lips. Panicked, he grabbed frantically at his executioner only to have his hand kicked away. Then sounds, colors, visions from his past flashed by becoming one, until…nothing.

  He stayed until Cahir’s blood had moistened the damp earth and his chest had ceased to move. Then he left and never looked back.

  Chapter 72

  The moment that Fiach entered the catacomb and had a looked at the couple who had spent the night there, he knew they had reconciled. Aislinn blushed in greeting quickly looking away pretending to reorganize their belongings. Though Dougray gave him a quirky smile and raised brow that warned him not to say a word, Fiach still couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Did ye both sleep well, or were there circumstances that kept ye from that goal? Ye both look thoroughly exhausted.” His smile broadened in approval.

  Dougray grumbled under his breath. “Do ye come with news or are ye going to embarrass us to death?”

  “Aah,” he sighed heavily with a shrug. “Ye have lost yer sense of humor I see. So be it. Down to business then. Murrough has apprehended one of the men who took yer wife on her little joy ride. He is being held now for yer questioning.”

  “Finally maybe some answers.” Dougray looked back to Aislinn. The passion that they shared last night still radiated to the very core of his body. He went over to her, and she threw her arms around him not caring that the priest was watching them. He lowered his head and kissed her long, hard, sensual, not hiding the fact that it was the raw act of possession.

  When their lips parted, Aislinn felt like her life force had been taken away. She didn’t want him to go. “Be careful, Dougray.” Her hand gripped his forearm. “Return to me.”

  “I have every intention of doing so.” He kissed the top of her head. Closing his eyes, he prayed that he would be able to keep his promise to her.

  The moment that Dougray entered the room, the prisoner eyes grew wide with recognition and immediately tried to squirm away from Cormac’s grip.

  Dougray was not quite sure what to make of the display for he didn’t know the man, or did he? There was something oddly familiar about him. His eyes narrowed to slits as he discerned every feature the man possessed. The second that the man realized that Dougray had figured it out he again tried to break free. “Ye!” Dougray covered the spaces to get a hold of him. “What part of me telling ye that if I ever laid eyes on ye again, I’d kill ye, did ye not understand?” The man kicked his feet, violently making his attempt to

  escape. It took both Murrough and Teige to contain him and that was with Cormac pointing his sword at his chest. Dougray was furious, but he remained calm for he had to have answers if he was going to be able to protect Aislinn from harm.

  “I failed to extract a name from ye the last we met, but again Lady Aislinn had beaten ye to a bloody pulp. It is too bad that yer injuries ye sustained did not convince ye to stay away.”

  “Sheridan is me name and I swear to ye now that I didn’t realize ye were the one we were set against. I would have never joined them if I knew. I swear on my sainted….”

  “Stop before I lose my patience, Sheridan. If ye are so grief stricken by yer mistake, maybe ye will see fit to set it straight. Give me the name of who sent ye.”

  “I…” He stopped, shaking his head. “…I cannot. If I do I am surely a dead man.”

  Dougray’s chuckle was chilling. “Ye fail to realize, Sheridan, ye are a dead man now if ye do not tell me who ye are working for.”

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth as though he was looking for an escape. If he gave the name of the man responsible for the kidnapping, he would die a death worse than anyone could imagine. He was trapped in more ways than one. His arms were in a steel-like grip, and the sword was still dangerously pointed at his chest. There was no way out but one. “God have mercy on my soul.” With desperation that was controlled by utter fear, he thrust himself forward. Cormac saw too late the man’s intent, and had not pulled the weapon back fast enough. His sword plunged deep into Sheridan’s chest impaling him into silence.

  “I did not mean….” Cormac began but Dougray interrupted him.

  “It is not yer fault.” He whirled around furious that his attempt to find out some answers had been snatched away. “Dispose of him quickly.”

  Teige and Cormac took charge of the body and Murrough stayed behind. “Sheridan was a scared little rabbit when we came upon him.”

  “Aye, and yet he had the courage to kill himself rather than face telling us who was behind the attack.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Dar Dia! Death was more preferable? Who are we up against?”

  Aislinn had wandered into the small room at the back of the church hoping to find Father Fiach, but no one was there. She glanced at the many books and writing materials that were on the small wood table against the wall. Her hand paused over the leather-bound journal. It wasn’t quite as worn, but she recognized it as the one she had held in her time. This was Fiach’s journal and the heartfelt words that he had put to paper were all about his…cousin, Dougray. “Oh God!” Her heart pounded against her chest.

  Fiach had been the one to steal the body away and hide it in the tomb below the church. She whirled around intending to hunt for Fiach, but her departure was cut short. A dark, cloaked man filled the doorframe blocking her escape. She took a step back.

  “Father Fiach will be back shortly. If you would like, you can wait for him in here while I go find him.” The man didn’t move aside making her fear the worse. She
grabbed the letter opener that was on the desk and pointed it toward the imposing figure. “Do not come any closer or I’ll see fit to use this on you.”

  He didn’t seem at all intimidated and took a step forward anyway, and with that step, he threw off his hood revealing his face to her. Aislinn’s mouth dropped open. Though considerably older, the man resembled Dougray. So much so, it was uncanny. “Who are you?”

  “I apologize for I have ye at a disadvantage, milady Scathach, or should I simply call ye A.J. as so many others do?” The twinkle in his light-gray eyes was enough to let her know he was rather amused with this meeting.

  “Either you tell me right now who you are or I’ll….”

  He laughed vibrantly. “Ye are indeed a worthy lass for my son.” She hesitated. “Son?”

  “Aye. I am Lord Shane Fitzpatrick at your service.” He bowed before her in a grand gesture.” “But you’re dead.”

  “Ah, so I have heard, but as ye can see I am not.”

  “This is a trick.” She jabbed the letter opener toward him. “This is a trick.” Even though she voiced it, she knew it wasn’t so. The man looked too much like Dougray not to be his father. His dark hair, his clear gray eyes, and even his condescending smile, they were all like his.

  Just then Fiach saw fit to return and his eyes took in the obvious scene before him. “I see that ye both are getting acquainted.”

  “He claims to be Dougray’s father.” Aislinn wanted to hear it from Fiach. “Aye, that he is, milady.” He walked over to her and took the weapon from her grasp. “I suppose we need to explain.” “You’re damn right ye do.”

  Shane couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. The woman was everything he had heard and more. “Maybe ye should fix her a drink, Fiach.” “I’m not thirsty. So if you please, explain why you are not dead.” She folded her arms against her chest as she glared at Dougray’s father.