Read Online MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter by Suzan Tisdale - Free Book Online Page B

Clan McDunnah, a good friend of Angus’, and hated the Earl of Penrith as much as any other Scot.  
    While Duncan did not want word to spread that they now protected the young lass who had killed the earl, he did not relish in the thought of only the four of them against the English.   “Aric,” Duncan said as he followed him into the barn.   “I fear if word gets out what happened, then it could spread to the ears of the English.”  
    “Aye,” Aric said as he began to saddle a horse.   “That’s why I’ll be speaking to Caelen and Caelen alone.   If word gets to the English that we have her here...” his voice trailed off for he did not want to think of the battle that most assuredly would ensue.   “We’ll come up with a different story of how the lass came to be in yer hands. Dunna worry of it.”
    Within minutes Aric was mounted and leaving to meet with Caelen. As he rode away from his home, he sent a silent prayer up that the good Lord would keep his family as well as the MacDougalls safe until his return.
     

Eight
     
    Beams of light streamed down through the trees and cast brilliant threads of gold onto the fresh spring grass and blooming flowers. A tall, strong man stood in the center of the trees. Light glimmered and danced all around him. It glanced off his fine clothes, his hair and the sword that hung at his side. Though she did not know his name, could not see his face, she knew the man standing before her was her father, her real father.
    Warmth radiated from a smile she could not see but could only feel.   With open arms he stood waiting for his little girl. He scooped her up and squeezed her so tightly that she struggled to breathe. He was whispering to her that she was bonny and sweet, and he was here to protect her. She need not worry or be frightened ever again.
    In that place between dreaming and waking, a small voice spoke her name.   It was whisper soft, as if it were being carried on the wings of a butterfly.   Something warm and soft caressed her cheek.   Weakly, she batted her hand at it, demanded it go and leave her to the dream. It ignored her quiet order and continued its soft assault.   She attempted to curse at the offender, but her mouth was so unbearably void of moisture, her curse sounded more like a dry and husky grunt.
    When her eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight burned at them.   She squeezed them shut, attempted to mutter another curse, and buried her head into the pillow.   When the fog finally lifted, she realized she was in a bed and lying on her stomach.   There was something damp and cold upon her back.   She tried to lift her head to catch a glimpse at whatever it was, but the movement caused her head to throb.
    When she made another futile attempt to lift it again, she heard a very soft voice speaking in her ear. She managed to turn her head, and saw that the voice belonged to a little girl. The child possessed cherubic, rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.
    It was a little girl, no more than eight, who had been whispering Aishlinn’s name.   She smiled sweetly before disappearing.   Aishlinn wondered for a moment if she was still dreaming or had finally succumbed to death and now awaited entrance into heaven. With another move of her head, the relentless pounding proved she was not in heaven.   Hell perhaps, for the pounding had a decidedly hell-like quality to it.
    She had only closed her eyes for a moment when she heard Duncan’s voice. “Lass! Yer awake!”   He was crouched beside her and looked quite relieved, if not downright happy, to see her.   It was if they were long lost friends who had not seen each other in months. She thought it was quite odd.  
    Aishlinn tried to speak. Her mouth and throat were as dry as sand, and she couldn’t manage a whisper.   She tried to roll over to sit but was immediately stopped by Duncan.   “Nay, lass! Lay still, now.”   She was thirsty beyond all measure. She