The Clan MacDougall Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

with her head resting upon the mare’s neck. If ever she were forced again to make a decision between saving her own life and traveling alone, with no weapons, blankets or the means to start a fire, she might be tempted to choose death. The longer and further she rode, death became the more amiable option.
    It was too late now to change her mind. Nay, death from exposure was more desirable than death at the hands of the earl’s soldiers. She trusted that Baltair would be able to buy her some amount of time, but how much she did not know. As exhausted, cold and hungry as she was, she could not give up. If the guards ever found her it would be a most certain and painful death.
    She was thankful that her stepfather had taught her to hunt and fish and to find her way about. Growing up she had resented the man for not allowing her to be like the other young girls in their nearby village. Many a time he had told her she was plain and no husband lay in her future so he taught her to take care of herself. Now that she was far from the only home she had ever known and in very unfamiliar territory, she was glad for what he had taught her.
    As she coaxed her mare along, images of her family kept flashing through her mind. Her mother had been gone so long that Aishlinn no longer remembered what she looked like. She could however, remember her mother’s gentle strength. Often she would hear Laiden’s voice as it offered words of encouragement that urged her on and begged her to not give up.
    She would catch glimpses of Moirra’s smiling auld face as well. Her heart ached from missing both women. There were a few times when she could have sworn she saw the two women riding along with her. It was those images from which she drew the strength to continue.
    More often than not however it would be images of her father’s face that would come crashing in. He always looked so disappointed. Aishlinn felt as though she had somehow let the man down. It was true that Broc had never been much of a father to her. Aishlinn was certain her mother had married him only to save her from being born a bastard.
    The man had not one redeeming quality that Aishlinn had ever witnessed. Cold and hard, he never had a kind word to say to her. Why he had chosen to keep and raise her, Aishlinn supposed would always be a mystery. He had made it abundantly clear over the years that she had not been wanted.
    Visions of her brothers would come to visit her as well. Just as in real life, her visions were filled with them taunting and laughing at her. They had never been particularly kind to her growing up. And their contempt of her grew even greater after Broc’s death. It had gotten to the point where Aishlinn could do nothing right. No matter how hard she worked in the fields or in the home it was never good enough. They would always find something to chastise her for.
    Then nearly a month ago they came to her and informed her that she would leave that day for Castle Firth. Horace, the oldest brother, was going to marry a young woman from the village. He wanted the cottage they had grown up in for his own. He felt the home not big enough for all of them, especially two women. So it was done; Aishlinn was sent to Castle Firth.
    Admittedly, Aishlinn had felt a great sense of relief at the news. She would be away from her cruel brothers forever. Certainly life as a scullery maid or chambermaid had to be better than the life she had been enduring. Had she known then what fate had in store for her, she would have fled to London the moment they told her the news.
    She fought hard to push their faces and voices from her mind and tried instead to focus on freedom and her future. She would daydream of a cottage by the sea. Maybe she would marry a decent man who would not beat her or insult her. Maybe God would bless her with many children. She would plant gardens and learn to weave. Her home would be filled with much love and laughter. But she had better chances of