The Clan MacDougall Series (111 page)

Elise’s skin was still quite hot to the touch, her eyes still glassy, but she managed a smile before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. Isobel promised not to leave her side until Nora returned.

Mary took Nora to the women’s solar on the opposite side of the castle. Behind a dressing screen, a tub filled with hot water awaited. Peeling off her dirty clothes and setting them in a pile near the fireplace, Nora stretched her arms and neck for a moment before testing the water with her toe.

She hadn’t realized how much she ached or how cold she was until stepped into the tub. The hot water stung, a momentary assault that brought prickly sensations from her toes to her fingers. As she relaxed fully into the water, the heat wrapped her in a cocoon of blissful warmth. It took only a few moments before she began to relax and feel quite sleepy.

Just as she began to doze off, a woman appeared with the offer to help Nora bathe. Nora’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, for no one, not even Horace, had ever seen her completely naked before.

The woman, who introduced herself as Eilean, clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes at Nora’s enflamed face. “Lass, we all have the same parts! Ye’ve nothing I’ve no’ seen before.”

Nora knew they might well possess the same “parts” as Eilean had put it, but that didn’t mean she found any comfort in exposing
hers
to a complete stranger. Nora kept her arms folded across her chest as Eilean scrubbed her hair with lilac scented soap.

Nora was glad that the bruises Horace had left on her more than a week ago had faded and were now barely noticeable. The scars on her wrists, however, were quite obvious. She did her best to keep them hidden. Hopefully Eilean would not notice, and if she did, she not would inquire as to how she obtained them.

Eilean chatted away about one thing or another while she scrubbed Nora clean. Nora was too flummoxed to pay attention to what the woman was talking about. Besides, she spoke in a combination of English and Gaelic and Nora could understand less than half of what she was saying.

When Eilean was done with the first round of washing, she called for the tub to be emptied and refilled. Nora had been covered with so much muck and grime that she left a murkiness in the bathwater that made her burn with further embarrassment. With so much dirt and grime, she required two tubs of hot water to get clean.

Once Eilean was satisfied with Nora’s cleanliness, she helped her don a luxuriously soft white chemise. It had long, full sleeves, and it felt sumptuous against her skin. Over that, Eilean pulled a full skirt made of a beautiful green, blue and yellow woolen plaid. Next, she tugged an overdress of a fine gray fabric, split up the middle so that one could see the lovely underskirt. The overdress was trimmed with a heavy yellow thread that glistened in the candlelight.

Eilean giggled as she laced up the bodice. “Aye, we’ve the same parts, lass. But ye seem to have been blessed with more on top than I have!”

Nora gulped, burning red yet again and was left feeling stunned and speechless by Eilean’s bluntness. Nora knew she was well endowed, but no one had ever commented on that fact before. Nora’s embarrassment brought another round of giggles from Eilean.

“Do no’ tell me ye never noticed before, lass! Och! I’m sorry I made ye blush, lass. ’Tis me own envy over what the good Lord has given ye, that makes me talk so!”

Envious? Of me?
Nora couldn’t fathom anyone envying her anything. There wasn’t much about herself that she would think anyone would covet or envy. It wasn’t until she caught a glimpse of Eilean’s own bosom that Nora understood. While Eilean did in fact have what one could consider a healthy bosom, Nora’s was
healthier
. She stood a bit straighter and stifled a smile before chastising herself. Pride was one of the seven deadly sins, wasn’t it?

Apparently, Eilean was not yet finished dressing Nora. Once she had the bodice tied, she took a large length of the same blue, yellow and green plaid fabric and folded it in half. “Raise yer arms, lass,” Eilean directed. Nora dutifully complied, recollecting the fact that she had never worn so many layers of clothing at once. And neither had she worn a gown that showed so much of her bosom!

Eilean draped the plaid over a dark brown leather belt before tying the ensemble around Nora’s waist. “’Tis called an arisaid,” Eilean explained as she tucked and pulled on the fabric until she was satisfied. “Now, if ye get cold, lass, ye just grab this part of the arisaid and pull it up and over yer shoulders like this.”

She demonstrated by pulling part of the fabric out from under the belt and pulling it up and over Nora’s shoulders. Nora was glad for the warmth and for the fact that she could cover those parts of her that seemed to be spilling out over the top of her dress.

“And,” Eilean said as she began tucking the fabric back under the belt, much to Nora’s displeasure. “If ye get a wee too hot, ye just tuck it back!”

“Now, let’s see what we can do with that hair.” Eilean stood with her hands on her hips and studied Nora closely. “’Tis lovely hair, ye have lass. We could do many things with it, to be certain.”

Nora was done being fussed with. “I do thank you Eilean, but I think a braid will suffice. ’Tisn’t like I’m trying to impress anyone nor am I going to see the king,” Nora offered her a warm smile. “I need to tend to my sister now. I worry over her.”

Eilean nodded her head and chewed on her lip. “Aye. Then a simple braid it is.” She retrieved a comb and a bit of leather from the table next to the fireplace and set about combing out Nora’s long, dark tresses. Though her hair was still damp, it did make braiding it a bit easier. She combed out the knots and with quick and limber fingers, she fashioned Nora’s hair into a braid that cascaded down her back where it fell almost to her knees.

By the time Eilean was done, Nora was more than ready to see her sister. Eilean happily escorted Nora out of the women’s solar and back down the long and winding corridors to the room where her sister was being cared for.

They had given Nora and the children a room to themselves, for fear that whatever ailed the little girl might be spread to the rest of the clan. It was a beautiful room, with a large bed that sat opposite a massive stone fireplace. Tall windows with heavy green drapes lined the wall that faced east. Between the windows was a table that held little bottles, combs, and a looking glass.

The walls were adorned with large, beautiful, elegant tapestries. Some depicted men hunting, while others had a precisely feminine and romantic flair. Some showed women in beautiful dresses surrounded by tall, broad shouldered men with swords.

Elise was fast asleep, and as promised, Isobel was with her. Isobel sat on a short stool next to the bed and at the moment, she was pressing cool damp cloths to Elise’s forehead.

Nora entered the room quietly, her skirts rustling as she walked to stand beside Isobel. “How is she?” Nora asked as she brushed back a few of Elise’s strawberry blonde curls.

“She’s been asleep since ye left, but she sleeps peacefully. She has started a nasty cough and I fear her illness has settled in her chest.”

Nora was glad for Isobel’s bluntness. There was no sense in pretending that Elise was fairing any better than she actually was. But still, she wished the news had been better.

“M’lady, I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you and your people are showing us.” Nora knew her words didn’t quite capture the gratitude that she felt toward these kind people.

“Think nothing of it, Nora. We help those that need it.”

“So I have learned, m’lady. But still, I feel compelled to express just how much this means to me. If it weren’t for Wee William, and the other men, I would be dead right now. And were it not for you and your gracious help, I do not know what would become of us.” Of that, she had no doubt.

Isobel stood and took Nora’s hands in her own. “Lass, let’s leave Elise to rest and ye can tell me what happened that led ye to us.”

Isobel knew that Nora did not want to leave her sister alone and she could not rightly blame her. “Mary will be here in a few moments, with water and tea. Elise will be fine for a little while.”

Nora bent and kissed Elise on her forehead, but the child did not stir. Nora’s chest constricted when her lips touched Elise’s hot skin. “Is there naught we can do for her?” Nora whispered.

“Mary is bringing a tea that will help the fever. And we’ve herbs that will help with the cough. We’ll apply a poultice to her chest that I hope will help the cough. If we’ve gotten to her in time, she should be well in a week or two.”

Two weeks?
Nora cringed inwardly at the thought of Elise being this sick for such a long time. The guilt began to creep back into her heart.

Isobel put an arm around her shoulder and led her out of the room. “I can no’ promise she will be well, Nora. But I can promise we’ll do all that we can for her.”

“Thank you, m’lady.” Nora choked back her tears and followed Isobel out of the room. They stood just a few steps from the bedchamber and kept the door slightly ajar so they might hear Elise if she needed them.

“Now, tell me, lass,” Isobel said as she patted Nora’s hand. “How exactly did ye come to be in Wee William’s possession?”

Possession? Nora certainly didn’t consider herself Wee William’s possession. Friend, perhaps. Grateful ward, maybe. But his possession? Nay. Nora supposed Isobel’s choice of words had more to do with translating her thoughts from Gaelic to English and decided not to correct her. To do so would be rude.

“I’m not sure where I should begin,” Nora said as she chewed on her bottom lip.

Isobel smiled warmly, her deep green eyes twinkling in the light from the torches. “Mayhap ye should begin with how ye came to be married to such a whoreson as Horace Crawford?”

Though she was not used to such harsh language, especially coming from a woman, Nora was growing accustomed to the Scots way of being blunt, to the point, and quite candid. Horace
was
a mean, spiteful man. Nora supposed Isobel’s choice of words were as good as any to describe her late husband. Besides, she could not deny that she too had often thought the same of him.

Nora began with how her own mother had died during childbirth and when she was two, her father married Nina, the woman whom Nora would always think of fondly as her mum.

“Nina died in childbed as well, giving birth to Elise. I suppose I’ve been more of a mother to her than a sister all these years. To John as well.”

She went on to further explain that the death of her father had been sudden and she had been ill prepared for it. “I believe my father did not push me into any marriage because he needed me to help care for Elise and John. He died two years ago. By that time, any man worth having was already had, so my choices were very limited. It was either marry the old baker or Horace. I chose Horace.” It was a decision she had regretted every day since.

“He had promised me that Elise and John would stay with us. He promised to build a bigger home so that we could all be together. He made many promises, m’lady, and kept none, save for the ones he made
after
we had wed.”

Isobel raised a curious eyebrow at Nora’s last statement. “What promises were those?”

Nora took a deep breath to steady her nerves. There had never been anyone in her life with whom she could confide in or seek advice from. To finally have someone to share her fears with was a bit frightening and she was not sure how much she should reveal.

“I became inconsolable after he sent John and Elise away. I cried until I threw up. I had never been away from them and I knew how harsh life could be at Firth. I knew it would be a horrible life for both of them. Horace promised to beat me until I became the dutiful wife he demanded.”

Isobel did not doubt the threats Horace had made toward Nora. Over the past year, she had learned much about Horace Crawford from Aishlinn’s own accounts of her life as his stepsister. There was no reason to think he would treat a wife differently.

“Why did Horace send them away?” Isobel asked.

Embarrassed and humiliated at the memory of why Horace had sent them away, Nora burned red from head to toe. According to Horace, she had no one to blame but herself. Had she been able to do the things he demanded of her, he wouldn’t have sent the children away.

He had been furious with her on their wedding night when she cried out in pain and had begged him to stop. The following morning, still quite angry with her, Horace had tossed the children into the ox cart and took them to Firth.

She stumbled for the appropriate words, a way to explain it to Isobel, but fell short. “Because I failed in my wifely duties.”

Isobel looked confused. “What wifely duties would those be?”

Nora looked at the floor. “The private kind, m’lady. The kind that takes place after dark.”

Clarity dawned in Isobel’s eyes. “I see,” she said. “Now, pray tell how did ye fail in that regard?”

Nora cleared her throat and thrust her hands into the pockets of her dress. She pinched her thighs in hopes of controlling the urge to burst into tears.

The whys and wherefores didn’t particularly matter as far as Nora was concerned. “I failed him as a wife.” She cleared her throat. The topic was not an easy one for her to discuss.

“It was all my fault you see, that he became so angry with me that he sent John and Elise away.” The words came rushing out, like water set free from a broken dam. Along with her words came tears. Tears of humiliation, anger, frustration, and sadness.

“Had I been a better wife, had I been able to do what I was supposed to, then he wouldn’t have been so angry and he wouldn’t have sent them away! Because I failed, John and Elise have lived the past year in fear. Hungry, cold, alone, abused and there is no one to blame but me!”

Isobel wrapped her arms around Nora and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Wheesht lass!” She tried to sooth away Nora’s tears. “I ken that Horace blamed
ye
for a problem that any other woman would ken was not
hers
but
his.
Horace was a cruel man, I ken. His problems were his own, no’ yers!”