Laiden's Daughter

by Suzan Tisdale

  It took only a moment for Aishlinn to realize why he had paused. Perhaps he had changed his mind when he caught sight of the scars. Bree and Ellen had insisted they were not hideously disfiguring and barely noticeable. But Aishlinn had serious doubts and was certain they lied only to protect her.

  “I cannot blame you if you’ve changed your mind, Duncan,” she whispered. Her heart fell to her toes when he did not immediately answer.

  He turned her around so that he could look at her beautiful face. God’s teeth, but she was beautiful.

  “Nay, I haven’t changed me mind,” he whispered as he brushed his lips tenderly over hers. “Mayhap ye’ll change yer mind when ye see me battle scars,” he teased.

  He could have a thousand scars covering him from head to toe and it would not have mattered one wit to her. It was his heart and how he felt about her that mattered.

  Duncan took in a deep breath before he began kissing her again. He would never spend another lonely night alone in his bed mad with lust and want of her. She would be there every night with him. Och! There would be much lust, much need of her, but he wouldn’t have to throw himself into the cold loch to fight it. He would be able to reach out for her and she would be there.

  “I love ya, Aishlinn.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She knew he meant the words he spoke. “I love you, Duncan,” she whispered.

  She had to kiss him then to keep the tears from spilling forth. Instantly, a strange and new sensation fluttered through her body. It was rather reminiscent of being extremely hungry, a need of something but what that something was she had no clue.

  She wiggled out of her dress, letting it drop to the floor, and stood before him in only her shift. A most serious expression of determination appeared on his face right before he began to ply her again with warm, passionate kisses.

  A burning need filled her to the marrow and she wanted to see him, all of him. She undid the broach clipped to his plaid, not certain what to do with it. Duncan took it from her and tossed it over his shoulder where it landed with a plink somewhere near the door. His plaid fell away and he pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it to the floor as well.

  She sucked in air deeply as she looked at his well-muscled and toned arms and chest. His skin had been kissed by the sun and seemed to ripple in the candlelight. There were scars upon his shoulders as well as his tight, wavy stomach, scars he wore with pride for he had earned every one of them in battle. Her eyes moved downward and when she caught sight of his manhood, she closed them quickly, embarrassed for having looked there.

  Duncan chuckled at her crimson face as he grasped her neck and pulled her to him. He lifted her in his arms, kissed the soft spot at the base of her neck whilst he gently laid her down upon the bed. Her eyes were still closed, her fingers holding onto the sheets tightly as if she were bracing herself for the unknown.

  He chuckled again as he lay beside her and began to kiss her lips, her cheeks and eyelids. She finally let go her hold on the sheets and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I’ll be gentle lass, I swear it,” he told her, kissing the nape of her neck. As much as he wanted to simply plunge himself into her, he wanted for her to enjoy their first time together. It was important for her to feel the pleasures he could give her.

  “Tell me if I do anythin’ that hurts,” he whispered as he kissed her bare shoulders. “Tell me if I do anythin’ ya dunna like.”

  Aishlinn could not imagine him doing anything to her that would be at all unpleasant. Excitement coursed through her as she pulled him closer, desperately needing to feel his lips against her own. “Kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

  He honored her request. Her mouth was hungry for his and his for hers. She felt his hand as he touched her thigh every so gently with just the tips of his fingers. More chill bumps covered her body and she thought she might faint from the sheer exhilaration he brought to her with his touch.

  His feather soft touches, as he slowly ran his fingers across her skin, brought forth more chill bumps. Ever so carefully and slowly he pushed her shift up exposing her skin, her secret places. It left her feeling nearly intoxicated.

  When he kissed her belly button she thought for certain she would lose her mind for it seemed so inappropriate! She stopped breathing altogether when he touched her breasts, for she didn’t think that was proper either. He stopped only long enough to lift the shift over her head before tossing it to the floor.

  She had not been prepared for this, for laying completely naked and exposing herself in such a fashion! She had imagined she would have only needed to expose the places necessary for consummation, not every square inch of her body!

  “Breathe lass, or ye’ll swoon on me,” he chuckled as he began to kiss her again.

  She forced herself to breathe for the last thing she wanted was to swoon and miss out on what might happen next. Running her hands along his arms then his back, she could hear him moan with pleasure. She was surprised to find that when she heard his soft moans, they brought an intense and thrilling excitement to the pit of her stomach.

  Before she realized it, Duncan was on top of her and his kisses were growing more penetrating and passionate. The powerful, urgent need boiled within her like liquid heat. It was as exhilarating as it was confusing. Exhilarating because she had never before felt so alive and blissfully happy all the while feeling very alarmed and anxious.

  ‘Twas confusing because she knew not what the vibrant, pulsing need was, only that it made her feel there was more to this joining of husband and wife than just deep, ardent kisses, heavy, anxious breathing, and feverish, unrestrained touches. There had to be more to it.

  ‘Twas then that she felt something rather large as it lingered near the entrance to her womanly nether regions. She gasped when she realized just what “it” was and what he planned on doing with it.

  Before she could even ask “are you quite serious that you mean to do what I think you mean to do,” he did just what she thought he intended to do.

  “Ow!” She said, taking in a deep breath and holding it until she nearly swooned from fright and shock and the pain.

  Duncan paused, lifted his head from her neck and looked at her with a fearful and frustrated expression. “Do ye wish me to stop?” he asked.

  She was certain that what he truly meant to say was, ‘Please, I beg you do not ask me to stop now.’ Or to hear her say “Nay, husband, please continue at your leisure.’

  For a moment she could not speak. She could only hold her breath and retain her deathlike grip on the sheets near her hips. After several agonizingly long moments, the pain began to subside and she was finally able to find her voice, or a close likeness to it, for she wasn’t sure she recognized the sound that came from her own mouth. “Nay,” she told him.

  She was frightened for his wellbeing and health for there were many times over the last sinnight that he had told her he was ready to explode with want and desire for her. The image of her husband exploding into a thousands pieces of flesh all over the marital bed kept her from saying nay. How would she begin to explain it to anyone?

  She fought the urge to laugh a moment later when she heard his deep sigh of relief at her answer. Somehow his frustration made her feel a bit better about the entire situation and for the life of her she could not figure out why. Perhaps it made him seem more human and less God-like, more real and less perfect, even though he was as close to perfection as any man could possibly get, at least in her way of thinking.

  Not a moment had passed before he began to slowly move within her, kissing her tenderly as he caressed any part of her body that was naked and exposed. As he moved, she realized that ‘this’ was the deep need she had been craving. He whispered to her in Gaelic, a few of the words she recognized, others not.

  As his pace quickened she began to feel very odd, tingly sensations as she began to meet his movements with her hips. It was all beginning to make sense, this joining of a man and a woman. It did not take
very long after that for her to realize what Mary and Laren had been talking about when they discussed the pleasures joining brought to both man and woman when it was done correctly.

  “Mo Chuisle,” Duncan whispered. “Is tu no ghra,” Aishlinn knew what those words meant. More excitement rushed over her when he used the Gaelic to say he loved her.

  When she thought the feelings of joining with her husband could not possibly get any better, something unfamiliar began to spread over her body. It began from somewhere deep within her and rapidly rose before exploding to every inch of her body. Her toes curled, her fingers dug into her husband’s back, and her eyes rolled back into their sockets.

  She was horribly frightened by it, not at all certain what it was that was happening to her. Perhaps it was apoplexy and the thought of dying now, in this moment nearly scared her to death. “Duncan, what is happening?” She whispered quite desperately.

  She heard him chuckle slightly and then nothing else as the explosion grew to great waves that plunged her into an unbelievable sea of what could only be described as a maddening yet blissful, inconceivable ecstasy. For a moment she thought her soul had left her body as she dove her fingers even deeper into Duncan’s back. She shuddered involuntarily and felt the need to scream for…her mind went blank for she couldn’t think of what to scream for other than for him to not stop.

  If I die now, then so be it. I will die feeling the grandest of pleasures. Aishlinn had not realized she had said the words aloud until she heard Duncan’s light laughter before he said, “Ye’re welcome.” For once she did not turn red.

  The feeling subsided, yet lingered just on the edge and she was certain she would go mad if he did not stop, to let her catch her breath. He began to kiss her again and within moments all thoughts of stopping disappeared.

  All she could think of was that joining with her husband had turned out to be far more pleasurable than her mind could ever have imagined. Her heart swelled with love for this man and she knew he loved her and would do anything for her. Aishlinn hoped that he was enjoying himself as much as she was and she took the chance to open her eyes. He looked to be in a good deal of pain. “Are you all right?” she asked him.

  “Aye,” He whispered, moving slowly as he kissed her again. It was not long after that she felt the tides of passion return and soon they were both lost, thundering along in that intense and unbelievably joyous wave.

  She felt Duncan begin to shake against her as he moved faster, calling out her name, expressing his love to her once again. Aishlinn realized the pleasure she brought to him was just as intense and exquisite as what he had brought to her. She smiled just before the explosion overtook her again.

  When it was over, he lay soaked in sweat atop her, his face buried in the pillow, trying to catch his breath. As she hugged him, tears came to her eyes. There were too many reasons to count as to why she felt like crying at the moment.

  He began speaking to her, his voice muffled and she could not make out the words.

  “Are you all right?” she asked him again.

  He slowly lifted his head and there was a very broad smile on his face. “Aye. I am now.” He kissed her lips, her forehead, her cheeks and her eyes. “I love ye, Mo Chuisle.”

  She found she rather liked the way his words made her stomach flutter and her heart race madly. Her heart began to seize momentarily, for the thought of morning time came to her mind. She would miss him but she knew she would be able to carry this one night with her throughout eternity.

  Duncan rolled to his back and he pulled her near. She rested her head upon his chest, just as she had imagined doing many times over the past weeks. It was just as pleasant as she thought it would be. She could hear his heart pounding against his chest, like a big Scottish drum.

  As they lay there with their legs intertwined and trying to come back down from the celestial territories they’d just explored together, Duncan gently caressed her arm with the back of his hand.

  He imagined the smile on his face to be permanently sealed there for all eternity. He had been with many a woman in his life, far more than his fair share he supposed. But none had brought forth the passion or the intensity to lovemaking that Aishlinn had. He would have sworn on his family’s graves that she had touched his very soul.

  He felt hot tears as they landed on his chest. He hoped they were tears of joy and not sorrow or regret over marrying him. He also hoped he had not caused her any great amount of pain. “Lass, why do ye cry?” He whispered, his voice laced with concern.

  “I’m happy.” It wasn’t a complete lie, for she was happy beyond all human comprehension. Intermingled with that however, was the sorrow for what she would do when he fell asleep.

  Duncan patted her arm gently, giving her a slight hug. “No regrets?”

  “Only that I had not met you long ago.” Which was the truth. Had she grown up here, had her life been different, then her heart would not be now disintegrating into ashes.

  “We’ve our whole lives to make up fer it,” he said sweetly.

  Aishlinn could only nod her head. She wanted not to utter any lies to him. Lies, it seemed, had been what her entire life had been based upon. Wanting only to leave him with a night of very happy memories, she remained silent.

  Twenty-Six

  Aishlinn had accidentally discovered the secret passages below the castle by chance one day when she had first begun working in the kitchens. Back then she had still been quite frightened and unsure of herself and the people who had opened their home to her. She had tucked the knowledge securely away in the event she should ever need to flee.

  She waited for Duncan to fall asleep after they had joined together a third time before quietly pulling on her shift and slipping to her own room. She found that her legs had the consistency of fresh porridge and walking was quite difficult.

  Moving quietly in the dark of her room, she prayed she’d not make any sounds that would carry through her broken door. She slipped into a plain brown dress and tugged on her leather boots. She pulled a wimple over her head and grabbed a plaid from her table.

  She wanted to leave something behind for Duncan, something other than just memories of last night. Taking the chance, she quickly took a few things from her trunk and slipped back into his room where she left them on the pillow next to his beautiful face. Tears threatened and her throat felt swollen when she looked at him for the last time. She prayed over him that God would keep him safe and that he would understand that what she was doing was for the good of the entire clan.

  She made her way down the stairs and to the kitchen unseen, grabbing a lighted torch along the way. Though she would have preferred to leave on horseback, she could not take the chance of walking across the courtyard to the stables.

  Quietly she slipped down the stairs into the larder where the secret door to safety lay hidden behind a set of heavy wooden shelves. She rested the torch on the wall while she pulled at the shelves. The door moaned and creaked its opposition and she sent up another fervent prayer that no one in the castle had heard it.

  Not wanting to take the chance at the door voicing another loud objection at being closed, she left it open as she retrieved the torch and fled. Her mind went back to a night not long ago when she had fled through the secret corridors and passages of Castle Firth. That night Baltair had helped her flee to freedom and had blessedly saved her.

  This night however, she did not flee in fear to save her own life. She fled to save the lives of others.

  She wound her way through the damp corridors, her heart pounding with the fear that Duncan would wake too soon and thus foil her attempts to save his life. She knew he wouldn’t understand her motives or her reason.

  Her husband was stubborn that way and she supposed she rather liked that about him. Her stomach tightened when she thought of him as her husband and all that could have been had her life not been built around the lies of one mad man that had been traded for the lies of another.

  Heavenly Fa
ther but she would miss Duncan! Choking back tears and the urge to turn around just to see him one last time.

  The hidden corridors wounded this way and that under the castle walls a great distance before ending at a set of stairs that led up. A heavy wooden door lay concealed under a tall oak tree and it took several attempts at pushing it with her shoulder before it finally relented. The hinges, rusted from lack of use, creaked ominously and she hoped it was far enough away from the castle that the guards would not hear.

  She took a chance and stuck her head above ground so that she could see the watchtowers of Castle Gregor far in the distance. She worried that the guards might see the light of her torch, even across this expanse of land. Tossing the torch to the floor, she watched as it sizzled and hissed before relinquishing its flame. She took a deep breath and climbed up, pausing only long enough to cast one last look at Castle Gregor. Her heart sank for the hundredth time in less than a day and the tears returned. She knew this would be the last time she would ever lay eyes on her home.

  ******

  Duncan woke to early morning sunlight shining upon his face. He was feeling quite content and happy until he reached out for his wife and found the spot where she should have been empty and cold.

  He bolted upright when he saw the dried flowers, heather, and parchment lying on her pillow. His heart seized in his chest as he grabbed the parchment and opened it and saw that it was the note he had written her not long ago.

  He let loose with a low, angry growl as he flung himself from the bed and dressed quickly. He tucked the heather inside his tunic and strapped his broadsword to his back before grabbing his scabbard, mace and dirks. Tucking his weapons into his boots and belt he rushed from the room and yelled for Angus.