Maidens of Mayhem Chapter 13

[Evie]

Chapter Thirteen

   Ailidh nic Ardry lay awake late into the night, listening to the soft rhythmic breathing of her sleeping sisters—for so they'd come to think of each other now—as she stared into the darkness, unable to still her thoughts.  Celsie's wildly sobbed tale, and Constanza's more soberly recounted version shared with them afterwards, had made for an abrupt and disquieting end to the evening's earlier merriment.

   Sweet Jesú, I hate love!  Life would be so much simpler without it.

   She lay in the darkness, her thoughts awhirl with one fleeting memory after another.  

   Twelfth Night in Transha, watching the MacArdry men dance, kilts swirling as they leapt over crossed swords to the sound of the pipes.  Twelfth Night in Marlor, a girl newly come to Odhran's Baronial court, bewildered by different customs, for her mother's new husband's court had been an odd admixture of Border and lowlander ways.  She'd been so homesick, but there'd been letters—Caldreana's letters—to bring a smile to her face.  And once—only once, but God how she'd treasured it!—a brief message from the MacArdry tanist himself, which she'd read nearly to tatters despite its brevity, then stored carefully in a box of her most precious keepsakes when she dared not carry it about any longer for fear it would fall to pieces.  Another Twelfth Night come and gone, and Ailidh more resigned to her new life, making friends in Marlor, beginning to blossom from the stick-thin, knobby-kneed child she'd been into a woman's softer curves.  She'd caught Callum's eye then, and while he'd not been the one she truly wanted, she'd responded eagerly enough to his advances, so homesick for a familiar face from Transha that even Callum's brash wooing had, for a time, taken on the illusory sheen of polished gold rather than mere tarnished brass.

   The following Twelfth Night.  Ailidh's eyes squeezed shut, but still she couldn't block the memories of her wedding night and Callum's ardent lovemaking.  He'd kissed away her tears afterwards, apologizing for hurting her, though truly he hadn't.  Well, only briefly, but her tears hadn't been for the loss of her maidenhead, but for the loss of her childhood dreams.  But she was a bride now, and so she must put childish things away and learn how to be a good wife to the man she'd accepted. At least he was a Transha man, and maybe someday he'd bring her back home.  She'd have that much, at least, if not everything she'd once hoped for.  And she had learned to care for Callum, at least a little, though it was far from the deep yearning she'd once had for another Border lad.

   And then that morning she'd opened the door to find Geillis' brother standing there.  The day she learned Callum had never truly made her a wife.  Their sham of a marriage hadn't even lasted into February.

   And now tonight—or was it last night, now?—dancing with Dhugal, not just Earl and Chief of Transha anymore but a Duke as well, and even farther out of her scope than ever, their palms touching as he led her through the slow pavane, amber eyes meeting hers above a fond smile, lips brushing the back of her hand at the end, awakening slumbering feelings she'd thought were long dead.  Had wanted them dead, for they only brought pain now, not joy.

   No, she wanted no part of love anymore.  She was off men for life.  Or that's what she told herself, anyway, even as she stood, wrapping a cloak around her night-rail and venturing into the sitting room to stare at the dying fire on the hearth.  Outside, the winter winds whispered, lulling her, finally coaxing her thoughts into stillness, but with the cessation of tormenting thoughts came a sudden need for action, and before she'd stopped to consider what she was doing, she found herself leaving her apartment, traveling through the secret passages she and her sisters had carefully mapped, pausing along her path only when new corridors branched off, but following her route swiftly and surely until she reached the end of one long passage.

#

   He wasn't asleep yet.  Not quite, anyway.  A quick mental probe had ascertained that, but now Ailidh stood uncertainly in the dark corridor, shivering slightly with cold beneath her cloak, her bare feet offering no protection from the floor's damp chill, for now that she'd stopped moving her thoughts were beginning to return, and she realized she shouldn't be here.  Not at this hour, certainly not in her night-rail!  Sweet Jesú, what would he think of her?

   Her hand, already lifted to trace the glyph in the air for the spell to open up the passage door, started to lower, but suddenly the panel slid open on its own.  A firm hand reached out, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside, while at her neck she felt the cold edge of sharp steel.  She froze, staring fearfully into amber eyes that glared down angrily at first, then with growing bewilderment.

   "Ailidh?!" Dhugal whispered in shock.

   She dropped her eyes.  He released her wrist abruptly, and she took a swift step backwards, but her back encountered solid wall where there'd been an opening just a moment before.

   Another man—she had a brief glimpse of dark chestnut brown hair and Transha colors in the soft firelight—entered the room, stopping as his eyes quickly took in the scene, glancing swiftly from his Chief to the border girl and back again, a fire beginning to smolder in the whiskey-colored eyes.  "Damn it, Dhugal, if ye've dishonored her—"

   "I haven't."  Dhugal took a step back, running agitated fingers through his copper-bronze hair, for once loosed from its customary Border braid.  "But I'd best see the squires stay asleep, lest they assume I have."  He turned back to Ailidh.  "You stay put," he half-growled, his voice low and dangerous, a tone she'd never heard from him before.  "And turn around," he added, reaching out to grab her by the shoulders to ensure she complied.

   "Turn?" she managed, still stunned.

   "Aye, and keep silent!  It's bad enough, you being in my bedchamber, but if one of my squires is still awake and recognizes your voice, and then I come wandering out wearing naught but a bedsheet, how's that going to look?  Sweet Jesú, lass, we're not twelve anymore!"  An explosive sigh.  "Jass, you bloody well never saw this.  She was never here.  But don't you go anywhere either!  Dear merciful God...."

   Ailidh heard the soft rustle of fabric behind her, which she assumed was the sound of Dhugal getting dressed, but she was hardly going to risk his further ire by peeking, especially with Sir Jass standing there watching them both.  She bowed her head, cursing her stupidity, until she heard Dhugal's footfalls leave the room.  A short while later, he returned, the door softly creaking closed behind him.

#

   "All right, Ailidh."  Dhugal struggled to keep his voice even, realizing he'd given the girl a fright earlier.  "What in the—"  He bit back the string of expletives that threatened to stream forth, modifying the question to a simpler, "Why are you in my bedchamber at God-forsaken-o'-clock in the morning?"

   The green-gray eyes flashed up at him at that, a hint of their usual spirit beginning to flare.  "I'd not be in yer bedchamber now if ye'd not yanked me intae it!"  Her gaze dropped.  "I was about to leave," she admitted, suddenly back to being a demure Court lady instead of the fiery Border lass of a scant second before.  Dhugal found the change a bit dizzying and oddly annoying.  "And I had no idea your door opened into a bedchamber.  Ours opens into our sitting room," she said, somehow managing a quiet dignity despite her disheveled appearance and unconventional state of dress.  He tried not to think about the flash of fine cambric he'd briefly glimpsed under her cloak.  

   "All right.  Fair enough."  He closed his eyes briefly, feeling a slight headache coming on.  "That doesn't answer the question of why you were wandering about outside it in the first place."

   She slid down the wall, sitting on the floor against the secret doorway, suddenly tired.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have been."  The defiant mask she'd worn cracked slightly, and Dhugal caught a glimpse of pain in her shadowed eyes.

   "No, you shouldn't have been, but you're here now.  Ailidh...."  He crossed the room to stand before her, reaching down to give her a hand back up.  "What's wrong, lass?"

   She ignored his hand, or perhaps she simply didn't see it through the tears that filled her eyes as she lifted her face to him.  "It was two years ago."

   "What was, Ailidh?" he asked softly.

   The tears spilled over.  "My wedding.  It was on Twelfth Night, two years ago," she answered quietly. "Except I married the wrong man, the bloody bastard!"

   Dhugal felt like a man who'd just stepped from solid ground onto quicksand.

#

   Dhugal drew Jass MacArdry aside.  "Look, I can't explain, but I need you to step out for a short while.  Just outside the chamber door will be fine."

   Jass glanced back at Ailidh, still huddled against the wall, and then back at his chief, looking mutinous.  "You want me to leave you alone wi' th' lass.  In yer bedchamber.  Dhugal, do ye know what yer askin' o' me?"

   The Transha chief, seeing the barely banked fury in his liegeman's eyes, sighed.  "I suppose I do now.  Jass, I'm not going to take advantage of her.  Trust me."  Dhugal took a quick glance over his shoulder.  "You see what a state she's in!"

   "Aye, barely clothed!"

   "Not that!"  He closed his eyes briefly, praying for patience.  "She's upset, man!  She's about ready to come apart, I think, but as long as you're in here, I don't think she'll open up to me about it.  Just...let her get it all out, and then once it's all sorted, I'll send her back to her own quarters."

   Jass looked past Dhugal at Ailidh, her head still bowed as she sat clasping her knees, her bare toes peeking out from under her cloak.  He sighed.  "Aye, then."  His eyes met Dhugal's again, willing to trust, yet still guarded.  "But I'm walkin' her back."

   "You can't.  You won't be able to open—"

   "I said I'm walkin' her back!"

   Dhugal knew how to pick his battles, knew also this was one he had no desire to fight.  "Aye, then.  I'll let you back in after."

#

   "I'm sorry," she was mumbling into his shoulder.  "I shouldn't have come.  I wasn't thinking."

   "I know."  Dhugal risked an awkward pat on Ailidh's back, wishing he knew what to say or do to help her.  "It's all right, lass.  You're in Rhemuth now; you can make a fresh start."

   She shook her head.  "No, I can't."

   "Aye, you can."  He pulled back slightly to look at her, cupping her damp cheek in his hand.   "I know Callum wronged you, but there'd be any number of men who'd be willing—"

   "I don't want any number o' men!" Ailidh snapped, "An' I don't want tae be bartered off like some brood mare!"

   "Well, no...no, of course not!" he hastily agreed, disconcerted.  "What do you want then, lass?"

   She swiped angrily at one cheek with a free hand.  "Bluidy men, always trying tae fix things.  Ye ever think maybe a lass just needs an ear and a shoulder now an' again?"

   "All right...well, you've certainly got that right now!" Dhugal said with a rueful smile.  Seeing it, Ailidh made a quiet sound, almost a laugh, though with a little catch at the end of it.

   He drew her closer, brushing his lips against the top of her head.  "It will be all right, you'll see, Ailidh.  I'll see you cared for."

   A strangled sob, and then the MacArdry chief suddenly found an armful of soft, yielding woman pressed against him, clinging to him like someone in danger of drowning and taking her rescuer under in the process.  "It should've been you!  I never wanted Callum, not truly, but he's the one who offered...oh, Jesú!"

   Realization broke over Dhugal like waves crashing over a man going under for the last time, as her rock-hard shields crumbled and he was suddenly swamped by an outpouring of raw emotion.  "Oh, Ailidh, I'm sorry....I didn't realize...."

   Damn it all, why the hell did I send Jass away?!

   He held her tight and rode out the sudden storm.

#

   Her emotions spent, she drew back, knowing she ought to be mortified, but suddenly too exhausted to care.  It would matter in the morning—dear God, how would she ever look him in the eye again?!—but for now, she was too numb to feel anymore.

   Dhugal had drawn back, was now studying her with concern and caring in his shiral eyes.  Concern and caring, but nothing more.

   She closed her eyes.  "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll go back now."

   He nodded.  "Aye, it'll be dawn soon.  You'd best not be caught out of bed.  I'll have Jass walk you back."  He brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb.  "Try to get some sleep."

   She made no protest, simply stood, turning away from him.  After a moment, she asked, "There's another woman you love, isn't there?"  Her head bowed.  "I wasn't trying to pry, but I caught a glimpse before your shields went up."

   "Aye."

   She nodded, the head rising proudly, though she couldn't bring herself to turn back towards him.  "Well, that's good, then.  A Duke needs a fittin' consort.  God knows I'm nae fit for th' job."

   "Ailidh...."   He felt utterly helpless, not knowing what to do or say that wouldn't hurt her further.

   "I need to get back, Dhugal."

   He sighed.  "Aye, you do."  Walking to the door, he opened it to allow Jass in.  
   
   "She's ready," Dhugal said.  He handed Jass a lit candle, then raised his hand to open the secret panel, watching as the two disappeared into the darkness.


Chapter 14:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=558.0

[Elkhound]

Nice job.

[Evie]

Thank you!

You know, anytime you want to jump in here and join the Deryni torturers add your own stories to the forum, feel free....   

[Elkhound]

Thank you!

You know, anytime you want to jump in here and join the Deryni torturers add your own stories to the forum, feel free....   

I've tried, but nothing good enough to post.

[AnnieUK]

Hasn't stopped me (oops!!)

I think I like Jass.

[Evie]

I'm glad you like Jass, since he's in most of the next chapter too.  And then I pick up Sophie's plot thread again for the following one.

[kirienne (RIP)]

Poor Derry! And poor Alaric having the memory of the death of Bronywn and Kevin brought up by this incident. I'm glad Richenda was there to take over the questioning. This is another great chapter. I'm really enjoying this story.

[kirienne (RIP)]

Poor Dhugal, put in such a compromising position (not to mention the compromising position Ailidh put herself into.  She needs a man who will truely love her nd be kind and faithful to her, perhaps Jass? I like getting to know the lad better, maybe Ailidh will too? Keep up the good work, this story is so much fun to read.