The Clan MacDougall Series (108 page)

“From this day forward, she is mine. Ye’ve been warned. If any of ye so much as look at her with even a hint of a smile in yer eyes, I’ll run ye through.”

He didn’t give any of them time to question, needle, tease or otherwise speak. He left them alone and headed back to the camp.

The men stood with mouths agape as they watched Wee William walk away. The day they thought would never come had finally arrived. After a moment, all eyes turned to Rowan. He was the only one smiling.

Without a word, each man begrudgingly walked up to him and each placed five groats in his open palm.

“How did ye ken it?” Black Richard asked as he handed over his own losses.

Rowan smiled as he opened his sporran and dropped the coins in. “’Twas simple, Black Richard. I’ve seen that look before.”

Black Richard’s brow furrowed. “What look?”

“Och! Ye canna see the way Wee William looks at the lass?” He clicked his tongue as the last of the coins fell into the pouch that hung at his waist.

Black Richard shook his head. “All I’ve noticed is that he has looked angry and ill at the same time.”

Rowan laughed as he slapped his hand on his friend’s back. “Aye, Black Richard. When a man looks that way—angry and ill—as well as lost, dazed and confused, ye ken he’s a man in love. ’Tis the same look we get when we go into battle, and the same look of a man going to the gallows. He kens that he be lost and he has no idea what to do about it!”

“How did ye know he’d claim her before he shaved his beard?” Black Richard asked.

“That was easy, lad. When he said he didna care if the others wooed the lass, I kent the moment he said it, ’twas a lie. The man is completely besotted with her, though he fights with himself over it. I kent there would be no way he could stomach the others falling over their feet to impress the lass. And the fear in his eyes was verra clear.”

Black Richard balked at the notion. “Fear? I’ve never kent Wee William to be afraid of anything or anyone in his life!”

Rowan laughed again. He gave Black Richard a friendly slap on his back. “Aye, but we’ve never kent him to be in love before!”

Wee William returned to the camp and walked directly to Nora. She was trying to comfort Elise who was inconsolable.

Nora looked at him, worried and concerned over whatever may have transpired in the woods. She didn’t wait for him to reach her or to speak. “She thinks you’ve killed her Sir Daniel.”

Wee William stopped dead in his tracks. Although the thought had crossed his mind more than once these past few days, he’d never really take the lad’s life. Nor the lives of any of his friends. But he wasn’t above beating them to a bloody pulp.

“Wheesht, lass,” Wee William said as he walked toward them. He scooped Elise up and held her close to his chest.

“I didna kill yer Daniel, he’s just in a wee bit of trouble for misbehavin’ in front of ye ladies.”

Elise lifted her head and looked into Wee William’s eyes. “Do you promise you didn’t hurt him?” she asked between sobs.

A warm, endearing smile came to Wee William’s lips and spread to his eyes. “I do so promise, lassie.”

Elise wiped her nose on Wee William’s shirt before giving him a hug. “Thank you Sir William,” she said.

“What lass, do ye be thankin’ me fer?” Wee William asked as he patted her little back.

“For not killing my angel. God would have been very upset with you.”

Wee William chuckled and gave her another hug. A moment later, Elise was squealing with delight.

“Sir Daniel!” she screamed as she held out her arms for him.

Wee William wondered how long it would be before his hearing returned to the ear in which she had just screamed.

Daniel had been walking into the camp with his head hung low, but the sound of Elise’s delightful squeal made him smile. He walked toward them and took the child into his arms.

“Wee William said he didn’t kill you!” Elise said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m very glad that he didn’t!”

The look of warmth and kindness that had spread to Wee William’s face when he consoled Elise, made Nora’s heart swell and with it came an odd fluttering sensation in her stomach. She sat quietly and observed him more closely.

He was indeed a very large man. By rights, she should tremble in his presence. Good sense would dictate, just from his appearance alone, that she should be utterly terrified of him.

That
was what flustered her. She was no more afraid of Wee William than she was of Elise or a newborn kitten. She felt more at ease, safer, and more cared for with him, than she could ever remember feeling.

It was difficult to ascertain if he was handsome or not, what with all the hair and that long beard that reached to his stomach. His eyes?
Those
she could say, without reservation, were…were what, she mused. Not quite beautiful but yet, there was something unusual and appealing about them. There were times when she felt she could easily read his emotions by looking into them. Yet others, when an invisible wall was thrown up, blocking any and all insight into what he may be thinking or feeling.

One by one the men returned to the camp looking physically no worse than when they’d left. However, a detectable silence had fallen over them and none would look Nora in the eye. She wasn’t sure if she appreciated the silence or if she should be worried. She wondered what Wee William had said to them.

It soon grew dark and once again they would be sleeping out of doors. Another lean-to was prepared for Nora and the children, yet this time, not one of the men offered to guard her while she slept.

The children fell asleep quickly. Nora lay in the dark, listening to the soft crackle of the fire and the low murmurs of the men whispering in their Gaelic. She wished she could understand the language so that she might know what they were saying. She’d been too distracted, too wrapped up in worrying over her future to try to pick up any of their melodic words.

As she lay there mulling over what she would do once they reached the safe confines of the Scottish castle, Castle Gregor, she heard a grunt come from outside her lean-to. Curiosity getting the better of her, she carefully lifted the fur that served as both wall and door, and peeked outside.

There was Wee William, lying on his back between the lean-to and the fire. His broadsword was resting across his chest. Mayhap, Nora thought, it was his turn to watch over them. Or, she supposed, it was his way of keeping the men from acting so foolishly. Whatever his reasons were for being there, she was grateful.

She felt a sudden urge to scoot across the ground and bury her face in his chest and snuggle up to him. The thought surprised her to the point that she felt her face grow warm from embarrassment. Startled, she quickly dropped the fur for fear the object of her fascination would see her staring at him and read her mind. As she stared up at the darkness, her mind began to wander to all manner of places.

Her mother had died more than six years ago and her father wasn’t about to have the kinds of conversations with her that would explain what happened between a man and woman. There had been no other women in her life with whom she felt comfortable enough to ask the many questions she had regarding that topic. Nora had gone into her marriage completely ignorant.

She’d seen sheep mating before, quite by accident of course, and supposed it might be done the same way between a man and a woman. And she had witnessed a cow giving birth and supposed again, that might be how a woman went about it.

Nora seriously doubted the things Horace did to her were the correct way of going about making bairns. It stood to reason, in her mind, that a bairn would go in the same way it came out. If that were the case, Horace had not done it correctly.

Then again, she could have it all wrong and Horace had been right and she really was barren. She had so many questions and lingering doubts and not a soul to turn to to ask. Nearly one and twenty and a widow nonetheless, she felt she was severely lacking in too many areas.

She tried closing her eyes to sleep, but when she did, Wee William’s face would pop into her mind. She wondered if his beard would tickle or scratch if she were to kiss him. Would his calloused, strong hands be gentle or harsh if he were to caress her cheek?

Where were these thoughts coming from?
Mayhap Horace was right and she was a harlot! He wasn’t dead a full sennight yet and here she was having lustful thoughts of a man she’d known just as long!

Mayhap Horace had seen the truth about her and the problems he had with intimacy were truly her fault. Good, virtuous women weren’t supposed to think of such things, were they? Mayhap it was
she
who was going to burn in hell for such impure thoughts as the ones skipping happily through her mind.

She crossed herself and began to pray for strength to fight the shameless urges and for forgiveness for her transgressions. She prayed and prayed and prayed for control of her mind, her wanton thoughts, and the sinful images that were jumping around in her brain. Just as she thought she had them under control, and could calmly succumb to exhaustion, she thought of Wee William’s bright smile, his hazel eyes, his long beard and she knew she was doomed.

Much to Nora’s mortification, she was forced to ride with Wee William the following morning. But then, she hadn’t really been given a choice in the matter.

When she returned from her morning ablutions, she found that she and Wee William were alone. The others had already left and had taken Elise and John with them. When she inquired as to why the others had left without them, she wasn’t sure if she believed Wee William’s answer.

“The men are in a hurry to return home,” was his curt response from atop his horse.

Seeing she had no choice in the matter, other than walking the rest of the way, she took a deep breath and took his offered hand. He pulled her up to his lap, wrapped the fur around her as he’d done numerous times before, and urged his horse forward.

Why should this time be any different than the other times she had ridden with him?
Something
felt different. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that each time she had closed her eyes to sleep last night, she could only think of Wee William and how a kiss from him might feel.

Feeling tense and a bit embarrassed, she sat ramrod straight, afraid to touch him for fear that he would be able to somehow read her thoughts. It was too embarrassing to think of what his reaction might be if he knew what was tumbling about in her mind.

“What ails ye this mornin’, lass?” Wee William asked, after they had ridden for some time.

Nora felt her face flush as she tried to gain control of her stomach. It had plummeted to her toes and back when she heard his voice and his question. “N-nothing ails me, William.”

Wee William grunted, a sound she had grown accustomed to these past days. Mayhap it was a noise that all Scots made, for she’d heard that sound come from all the men on numerous occasions.

They were riding through a valley and the sun had not been up for very long. It cast the landscape in brilliant shades of pinks, oranges, and yellows. Nora was glad to see that the snow was still melting, a sure sign that spring was not far away.

“Are ye sure, lass?” Wee William asked, breaking her quiet reverie.

“I assure you, sir, that I am well,” she hoped she didn’t sound too irritated. It wasn’t Wee William’s fault that her mind was engulfed with thoughts of kisses and bare skin. She blushed, unable to look at him for fear she’d be tempted to fulfill the fantasies that refused to leave her thoughts.

Wee William grunted again, not believing her for a moment. He had six sisters and he knew that when a woman said
nothing
was the matter, there was usually
something
the matter. He decided to give her some time to sort it out with the belief that eventually, she’d tell him what was bothering her.

It was not long before they caught up with the men and children. As typical, Elise was perched upon Daniel’s horse wrapped in fur. The little girl was fast asleep with her head against his chest, a fact that Nora found quite unusual.

Seeing the worry on Nora’s face when she noticed Elise fast asleep in his arms, Daniel sent her a warm smile. “She be well, lass. I think our journey has finally caught up with her.”

Nora leaned over to take a peek at her sister. Her little nose was red and running, as it had been for days. That in itself was not unusual, considering the cold weather they’d been forced to endure. While fresh air might do a body good, excess exposure to the cold and damp air was never a good thing.

Wishing to ease her worry, Wee William spoke up. “We’ll be at Gregor before the sun sets, lass. We’ll all feel better then. I believe we could all use a hot bath, warm meal and a nice bed to sink into.”

“That sounds heavenly, William,” she readily agreed and began to relax.

Mayhap that was all she needed. To be inside, by a warm fire, and away from all the men. More specifically, Wee William. Mayhap these thoughts and odd feelings were merely the result of being surrounded by men many for so many days. She concluded that
that
was what had brought the onslaught of lustful feelings and images about. Once she was away from them and surrounded by decent and virtuous women, her thoughts would return to normal.

Nora relaxed with that comforting thought, for she had never aspired to be a wanton woman or a harlot. She wanted to be the righteous woman her father had raised her to be and not like the women she had heard about when no one thought she was listening. The ruined girls who worked as bar wenches or the girls who made their livings by warming a man’s bed. She knew she’d not end up like those women for various reasons—the most important being there wasn’t enough gold in all of England to pay her to do what Horace had tried to do.

Elise continued to sleep peacefully while they rode in comfortable silence. They had spilled out of the valley and onto flatter, more open ground before noontime. The land was still blanketed in white but the warmth from the sun was quickly turning it into a heavy, slushy mess.