Laiden's Daughter

by Suzan Tisdale

  Aishlinn’s thoughts immediately turned to Duncan. Tears blurred her vision and a large lump formed in her throat. She loved him, more than she could have imagined was possible. She wrapped her arms around her chest and wished it were Duncan’s arms holding her now.

  She needed to hear his voice, needed to hear him tell her that all was well. He had been her protector since the moment he had pulled her from the freezing water months ago, a lifetime ago. Kneeling at the end of her bed, she prayed that he still loved her, even after the morning’s events. She prayed as well that she’d not be sent away.

  ******

  It was a striking sight to behold as more than forty horses came pounding through the castle walls, thirty riders in all these tall, strong-muscled men of the Clan MacDougall. Some were shirtless; some wore trews, while others wore the plaids. All were covered with grit and grime from the many days they had travelled to return home. A good number of them appeared to be in their thirties and forties, still well-muscled and sound-bodied when one considered their ages.

  The sound of all those hoofs clopping against the cobblestone courtyard, saddle gear jingling, and the people shouting out their welcome homes was nearly deafening. Aishlinn stood in awe as she witnessed the return of Angus McKenna and his men.

  Even from where she stood at the tall windows of her bedchamber, she could tell the man on the grey-speckled stallion, surrounded by his men, was Angus. Tall, well-muscled, his golden hair in braids at his temples, he sat tall and proud in his saddle. There was no doubt in her mind for there was only one whose strength seemed to radiate from somewhere within him, casting an aura of strength, honor and nobility.

  A sea of very happy people, glad for the return of their men, soon engulfed them. Wives and children came to greet their husbands and fathers and sons with tears in their eyes, relieved they had all returned safely home.

  Her assumption that the man leading the group was Angus was clarified when she caught sight of Isobel and Bree rushing to embrace him. He was taller even than Duncan and looked as though he could well hold his own in any battle. He wore a dark blue tunic and blue and green plaids similar to those Duncan wore. Dusty, travel-worn leather boots fit snuggly over massive legs. He was indeed a sight to behold.

  It took a long while for the excitement to die down and the people allowed the men to pass. She lost sight of Angus, and the others when they entered the castle.

  With all the commotion that was taking place, Aishlinn was certain it would be many hours before Isobel would send for her. Her heart ached with dread for her entire future lay in the hands of a man she had never met.

  ******

  When Isobel and Angus were finally alone in their room, he carefully removed his broadsword and strap and laid them upon a table. Exhausted from riding hard for days, he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed and stretched his legs. Before he could remove his boots, Isobel sat down on the floor and began tugging them off.

  “Woman! I’ve told ya countless time I’m perfectly capable of takin’ off me own boots!” Isobel smiled at him and said nothing as she tugged a few times before the first boot came free.

  “But ya dunna listen to me, do ya?” There was a twinkle to his green eyes, and a loving smile upon his face. He knew not what he would ever do if anything happened to his wife. She was his entire life and without her, he was nothing.

  Isobel had to tug harder at the second boot, and when it finally relented, she lost her balance and fell backwards. “Isobel!” he shouted as he tried to grab her before she fell, but missed.

  She lay on her back, laughing as she tossed the boot away. He smiled when he realized she was fine and he slithered from the bed and straddled her, gently holding her wrists to the floor. “Just where I’ve been wantin’ ya for weeks now,” he said with a wink.

  “Ya need a bath husband, and fresh clothes and a hot meal,” she said. “There will be time for that later. Ye’ve much to tend to.”

  He had missed his wife far too much to worry about anything but spending a few precious moments with her. “Aye, but ye are the first thing that I wish to tend to, my love.”

  He bent and kissed her sweetly, his lips pressing tenderly against hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss, blissfully glad that he was home. She tried telling herself that it would only be a few simple kisses she would give him before insisting that he bathe, eat and tend to very important business.

  Soon the kiss deepened, the passion swelling from deep within them both. Angus’ breathing began to quicken and his heart pounded ferociously against his chest. Married these many years now, he still held a fiery want and need of his wife. Too many nights spent apart of late had left each of them with a deep longing and need of the other.

  They began to pull and tug at each other’s clothing, desperate to feel the other’s skin pressed against their own. Eager hands searching, touching, and needing the other to know how much they had been missed.

  Before either realized it, they were lost in a frenzied session of lovemaking that would quench the desire that had been building for sinnights. But it would quench it only for a short while. They had many weeks of being apart to make up for.

  Afterwards, they lay upon the floor tangled up in one another’s arms with sweat covered brows and gasping for air. They both knew the satisfaction they felt at the moment was only temporary. Later they would take their time at it and might be locked away in their room for a day or two.

  “Now will ya bathe and eat, husband?” Isobel giggled as she laid her head upon Angus’ chest.

  “Aye. But only if ya promise to bathe with me,” He said as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. The image of his wife sharing a tub with him floated in his mind and brought a smile to his face.

  Isobel shook her head, smiled and sat up. “Yer nearly as insatiable now as ye were when ya were younger!”

  “Tis only because ya’ve grown even more beautiful!” ‘Twas true, he thought. She had grown even more beautiful over the years.

  When he tried to pull her to him again, she resisted the temptation. “As much as I would like nothing more than to join with ya again and again for the next sinnight or two, there are important things ya do need to see to, Angus.” She bent and kissed him on his forehead. “Tend to those things and I promise, we’ll not leave our room for the next few days if that is what ya wish.”

  Knowing well that she would make good on her promise, he jumped to his feet as he helped her up. “Verra well then. But let’s get these matters dealt with quickly,” He said as a wry smile came to his face. “I’ve much more I want to do with ya.”

  ******

  Isobel had decided to have Duncan speak with her husband first. She felt it best that he give his account of how they had come upon Aishlinn and why they had brought her here. She would have time to talk with her husband afterwards.

  Isobel’s hands began to shake at thinking of what would be taking place in a very short time. As she stood alone in her bedchamber, she poured herself a dram of Angus’ best whiskey in hopes that it would calm her nerves. It helped to only temporarily quell her worry. She thought of partaking another dram but knew she’d be no use to anyone if she got too far into her cups. Very soon Angus was going to need her strength and she his.

  Duncan waited for his uncle to bathe, don fresh clothes and eat before speaking with him. Angus’ private room seemed far too small for such a large man, but still it seemed to suit him. The room had tall windows, much like the other rooms in the castle. Heavy blue drapes were pulled back and let in an ample amount of sunlight. A low fire burned steadily and crackled in the huge stone fireplace. Heavy shelves lined the walls and were filled with books and maps and mementos. A massive desk sat in front of the windows and that is where Duncan found Angus sitting when he entered the room.

  “Duncan, my boy!” Angus said, glad to see him. He remained seated, tired and worn from the many days mounted upon a horse. “Isobel tells me ya’ve something important to
discuss with me.” His deep voice resonated through the room like thunder.

  Duncan took a seat opposite his uncle and let out a long sigh. “I’m not sure where to begin, Uncle.”

  “I find it usually best to begin at the beginning.” Angus studied him for a moment. He could tell there was much on Duncan’s mind.

  Duncan agreed. He began with the search for the stolen cattle, telling how he and his men had gone looking for the reivers and how they had come upon Aishlinn. Duncan went on to tell him the lass’ story of stabbing the earl.

  “We could no’ leave her alone in the forests uncle, so badly beaten she was. We were certain she would die.”

  “I wudna expect ya to leave a lass stranded out in the middle of nowhere in such a state!” Angus reassured him and bade him to continue.

  Angus’ face had turned to a deep scowl by the time Duncan had finished. “Are ye sure the earl be dead then?” Angus asked.

  “I’ve no reason to think otherwise,” Duncan replied.

  “Well, there is some good to come of it all then.” Though glad to hear of the death of the earl, he was still troubled with the fact the young woman was still there. “Have ye no' found her own clan?” he asked.

  “Nay,” Duncan told him, growing slightly nervous for he knew where the story went and was not sure how Angus would take it.

  “Why no’? Let her be their problem when the English come looking for her.” The safety and well being of his clan was Angus’ first concern. They needed not to battle with the English at this particular time.

  “She does no’ ken who her clan might be,” Duncan told him. “And Isobel thought it best she stay with us while she healed and rested. I agreed with her.”

  Suspecting his foster son was holding something back Angus studied him closely for a few moments. When Duncan kept averting his eyes, looking about the room at anything but Angus, his suspicions were confirmed.

  It suddenly dawned on Angus then, why Duncan was behaving as he was. His eyes flew open and he slammed his hand down hard upon his desk. “Damn it, Duncan! Ya’ve gone and fallen in love with her, haven’t ye?” His face had turned red as he yelled at him.

  Remaining calm, Duncan sat straighter in the chair. “Aye. I have.”

  Angus shot up and began pacing. The last thing he needed at the moment was trouble with the English.

  “We’ve got the clans Keith and MacPhearson ready to attack because they want our land. And now ya add the English into the mix?” The clans Keith and MacPhearson were the main reasons he had spent more time than he wanted to in the far north. ‘Twasn’t just to help the northern clans to settle their own disputes; he was there to shore up allies for a fight he was certain would be coming from the west. Running his hands through his hair, he continued pacing.

  “I sent out scouts, uncle. They searched for days and found no English, no soldiers, no one searching for her. I think the guard who helped her to escape, may have done more to ensure her safety, but what, I dunna ken.”

  He could only hope that whatever the guard had done or said would continue to keep the English from searching for Aishlinn. He’d feel better about it though if he knew for certain what had happened, what had taken place after Aishlinn escaped.

  “We’ve the support of the McDunnah on our side, should the English come for her,” Duncan offered, hoping that would help Angus feel better about the situation.

  “The McDunnah?” Angus asked, rather leery.

  “Aye. He is here, with a hundred of his men. They arrived a few days ago. They’re having troubles with the Buchannans.”

  The Buchannans were a greedy and lecherous lot of men. Their allegiance was not with Scotland, nor with the English; it went to the side with the most coin with which to purchase it. Unfortunately, their numbers were rising of late and they were fast becoming a rather large thorn in the side of the McDunnah, as well as his own.

  Angus took a deep breath. “How bad is it, lad?” he asked.

  “I love her. I wish to marry her.”

  It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Do ya love her enough to die for her?”

  “Aye,” Duncan said clenching his jaw. He would die for her, a thousand deaths if he had to. He had been angry with her earlier in the day, so angry that he had sent her to her room for her own protection for fear he would say something that he knew in his heart he would later regret. Though he admired her tenacity and stubbornness, there was a time and place for it. Standing on the archery field and openly defying him was not it.

  “Well ya may just get yer wish lad, if the English show up here, for we’ve no guarantee they won’t!” Angus said rather impatiently. “Do ye expect the clan to defend her to their deaths as well?”

  “They would, without even asking,” Duncan said with great certainty. He knew how the rest of the men and the clan felt for her. “They love her as well.”

  Sighing heavily, Angus shook his head and returned to his desk and sat. “She must be something very special then,” he said as he looked at Duncan, understanding fully how the young man felt, for he held the same love and devotion towards Isobel. He would die for her, as would his clan. He could only hope that the need would not arise for such a sacrifice.

  Twenty-Four

  Isobel had finally come to fetch Aishlinn to take her to Angus. “He may seem a rough man, but in truth, he is no’. Dunna let his size and deep voice fool ya either. Underneath it all is a man with a heart as big as the world, lass. Just tell him what ya’ve told me, leaving nothing out,” she explained to Aishlinn as they stood outside the door to Angus’ private room.

  “Be not afraid. Tell him everything, Aishlinn.” And with that, she gave the frightened lass a hug before she opened the door to send her in. “I’ll be right outside the door if ya need me.”

  Aishlinn paused a moment before entering and Isobel shut the door behind her. She stood on trembling legs for her entire future lay in Angus McKenna’s hands. He held the power to allow her to stay or to send her away.

  Angus stood behind his desk with one massive arm resting on the wall as he stared out his window. “Be that the lass I’ve heard so much of?” He said without looking at her.

  “Aye,” she whispered, too frightened to step forward. He was even more imposing a figure in person than he was when she saw him first from her bedroom window. He was tall with very broad shoulders and arms the size of tree trunks.

  Angus remained lost in thought, his gaze frozen as he looked out at his lands. He was trying to make sense of what Duncan had just told him and he felt an overwhelming sense of uneasiness over it.

  When he finally turned towards her, a most bewildered look instantly came to his face. His eyes grew wide as he stood in stunned silence, his mouth opened but no sound came from it, and his face had suddenly paled. Aishlinn grew fearful for she had no idea why he looked at her that way and thought perhaps he had suddenly grown ill.

  “Laiden.” He finally whispered.

  Aishlinn was quite surprised to hear him call her by her mother’s name. “Nay. I am Aishlinn,” she said, wondering if perhaps Duncan had told him of her mother and Angus was confusing their names.

  Angus gripped the edge of his desk with both hands. If he let go, he would certainly fall over from the shocking image that now stood before him.

  It canna be possible he told himself as utter disbelief took hold of him. He began to wonder if he had not completely lost his mind. A sea of old memories came crashing through his heart and mind and he felt he might drown in them.

  “Aishlinn?” he finally asked. His voice was husky for his mouth had gone completely dry. “That was me mother’s name.”

  She had never known another Aishlinn before and wondered then why Isobel had not shared that with her. She was growing nearly as confused as Angus looked to be.

  “It canna be,” He said, breathless from the shock his system was taking. His face had grown paler. “It can no’ be.”

  “Shall I get Isobel for you, m’lai
rd?” she asked, convinced he had become ill and might need the healers.

  He shook his head and straightened himself. Not taking his eyes from her, he quickly came around the desk. He towered over her, his face awash in confusion and pain. Aishlinn grew more nervous and frightened.

  “Forgive me, but ya look just like a lass I knew a long time ago,” He said with a pained smile. “Laiden be her name.”

  Aishlinn cocked her head slightly. “You knew my mother?” she asked, bewilderedly.

  He knew her mother. A sense of dread then came to her next, for if he knew her mother then he knew what clan she belonged to. The possibility of being sent away flooded her eyes with tears.

  Angus had known the moment he saw her that she was Laiden’s daughter. There was no doubt for she was nearly an exact replica. ‘Twas as if Laiden herself stood before him, a ghost from his past; the sight of the lass before him had taken his breath away.

  Angus put his unsteady hands upon her shoulders, unsure if he should believe his eyes and ears. He touched her just to see if she was real. When she did not disappear into a cloud of mist, he gave her shoulders a light squeeze. “Aye, I did.”

  He guided her to the chair in front of his desk and sat her down. Bewildered and excited, he could not take his eyes from her. He kept shaking his head, muttering under his breath that he simply could not believe she was really here.

  When he realized the look on her face had changed from one of curiosity to that of fear, he apologized. “I’m sorry to stare lass, but ya look just like yer mum.”

  “I do?” Her mother had died so long ago that all Aishlinn had left were memories of things and small moments about her. She had long ago forgotten what her mother looked like, or the sound of her voice. And no one who had known Laiden had ever told her before that she resembled her. It had always been the exact opposite.

  “Och! Aye!” Angus said. “All ye have to do is glance in a mirror lass, and ye’ll see yer mum!” Angus ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head again. His mind whirled as he tried to make sense of it all. “Duncan said ye be an orphan.”