Laiden’s Daughter by Suzan Tisdale

Author:Suzan Tisdale
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Targe & Thistle INC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Had she known that learning to read and write would be harder on a body than working in the fields or hunting, she might not have been so excited at the prospect of a proper education. But it was exciting. Isobel opened entire new worlds to her and she was enjoying every minute of it, no matter how tired she was.

She would rise each morning and race to work in the kitchens. The moment she finished whatever tasks Mary had given her for the day, she would happily race to Isobel’s room. Even after the many days that followed, she still could not contain her excitement. It still felt strange each time she was allowed to touch a book or put a quill to parchment to practice writing her letters. But she relished it, and each day she thanked God for bringing her here.

When the nightmares came, Aishlinn would go to Isobel rather than Duncan. Some nights she would crawl into Isobel’s bed while other nights Isobel would sit near Aishlinn’s bed until she fell back to sleep. It was still difficult for Aishlinn to understand how Isobel could love her as her own.

She would read and write and practice sums for a few hours each afternoon before they would turn to learning to weave. Aishlinn loved the scent of the heavy threads and how soft they felt on her fingers. The sound of the shuttles as she passed one over the other was as soothing to her spirits as a lullaby to a new bairn. She could only hope to someday be as skillful at it as her mother had been and Isobel seemed to be.

Isobel was keeping Aishlinn so busy that it made it nearly impossible for Duncan to spend more than a moment or two with her. He was growing quite frustrated, but was profoundly glad to see the excitement on Aishlinn’s face as she learned to read and write.

Isobel had also put a stop to them sitting together at the evening meals. She insisted that Aishlinn sit with her and the other ladies, under the guise that it would help her to grow as a refined woman. Duncan could tell from Aishlinn’s bored expression during those meals that she did not like it any more than he did. Many times he caught her glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Sleep brought no respite for him, for ’twas there he found her each night, in his dreams. Vivid, sweet, wicked dreams of her nestled in his arms, as she had been that one delightful night when nothing happened between them but sleep. In his dreams, far more than sleep was happening.

Angus was long overdue to arrive home but finally word had arrived in the form of a messenger. He brought with him a letter for Isobel as well as a group of musicians to entertain the clan. The messenger informed Duncan that the talks were not progressing as smoothly as Angus had hoped and he would be delayed for at least another fortnight.

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