The Clan MacDougall Series (115 page)

Read The Clan MacDougall Series Online

Authors: Suzan Tisdale

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Love Stories, #Medieval Scotland, #Mystery, #Romance, #Scottish, #Thriller & Suspense, #Highlanders, #Love Story, #Medieval Romance, #Scotland, #Scotland Highlands

BOOK: The Clan MacDougall Series
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A
s he’d done for more than a sennight, Wee William brought a tray to the children’s room for Nora along with messages from Aishlinn. Neither Duncan, nor Angus, nor anyone else for that matter, would allow Aishlinn anywhere near the sick children. Aishlinn was less than happy that everyone treated her as though she were made of glass.

Knowing his wife’s fondness for going against his wishes, Duncan had threatened to put a guard outside the children’s room, and to assign two men to Aishlinn if she did not promise to stay away. Once the children were better and everyone felt comfortable that Nora would not become ill herself, they would allow the two of them to finally meet.

Aishlinn finally agreed as long as someone would keep her informed and would pass her messages on to Nora. The most important one being how thankful she was for Nora keeping her treasures safe. The other being that Aishlinn was praying diligently for them all. She kept three candles lit in the kirk and prayed daily for the children’s health as well as Nora’s.

Wee William enjoyed the evenings he spent with Nora for they offered quiet time for him to get to know the young woman better. And the more he learned about her, the more he began to like her. She was a strong woman, a good woman.

Nora had been taking care of her brother and sister for so long that she felt more like their mother than their older sister. While some women might have resented being thrust into the role of mother at such a young age, Nora did not. They were her family, people who loved her unconditionally. The only regret she had was marrying Horace Crawford.

Wee William battled with his conscience each time Nora thanked him for making her a widow. His mind told him he must tell her the truth of what happened that night. If she ever learned the truth, she might not think so highly of him. She would look at him differently, not with pride and gratitude but anger and distrust.

But his heart argued otherwise. Telling her the truth would take away her sense of security and safety. He also worried that if she thought Horace might still be alive she might leave, run even farther north and he might not be able to stop that from happening. He simply could not risk losing her smile or her friendship. He could not risk losing
her.

The children’s fevers had raged on relentlessly and neither child had stirred for two days. Their condition had grown worse. The only way one could tell they still lived was from the heavy wheezing as they fought for each breath they took.

Wee William’s heart ached for this small family. To his way of thinking, it did not seem fair that innocent children died while evil men lived. It simply was not fair.

Nora was sitting on the stool between the two beds. She was resting her head in the crook of one arm on the side of John’s bed. Her other arm was outstretched, her palm on Elise’s chest.

Silently, he set the tray at the end of John’s bed. Nora sat upright, her dark, tired, sorrowful eyes looking at first startled, then relieved. “William.” Her voice sounded dry and scratchy.

Wee William’s first thought was that she was coming down with the children’s ailment. The thought made his stomach tighten with worry.

“Nora, when was the last time ye slept?” he asked as he grabbed the chair from beside the fireplace and sat down to face her.

She didn’t even pretend to think on it. “The day before my father died was the last time I had a good night’s rest.” Since then, her sleep had been plagued with worry and more often than not, nightmares. The latter of which worsened after she married Horace.

Wee William let out a heavy sigh. “Lass, ye must try to sleep!” he whispered. “Ye’ll be no good to anyone if ye’re worn and exhausted. I can stay with the children….”

Nora stopped him with a shake of her head. “Nay, I’ll not leave them, William.” She tried to rub the tension from her neck while she grabbed the tankard of ale from the tray. “I appreciate your offer though.” She took a drink, set the tankard down and stood.

Nora had thought she’d been tired and sore during their ride to Gregor. But today, it seemed every muscle in her body screamed from lack of sleep and the constant worry. Her head felt muddled and fuzzy whenever she stood. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

Wee William jumped to his feet and grabbed her elbow. He recognized the signs of utter exhaustion when he saw them. He’d seen it many times before, on the battlefield when men had gone days without good sleep or food, fighting until they had nothing left to give. Nora had that look about her.

“Nora, I ken ye love yer brother and sister, but lass, ye must get some sleep.”

Between Isobel, Mary, Eilean, and the others, she’d reached her breaking point. She’d had enough of people trying to care for her when all she wanted and needed to do was care for her brother and sister.

“Nay!” She scratched out as she tried to focus her eyes. “I will not leave them! I don’t need rest! I need them to get well!”

Wee William would not take anything she said at this point as a personal attack. The days and nights of caring for the children were taking their toll. He stood a step away, his hands at his sides, and let her continue.

“What I need is for everyone to leave me the bloody hell alone so I can take care of them! I won’t let them die and you can’t make me leave them! If I leave, and anything should happen,” she could not say it aloud, could not bring herself to admit openly or even in her own heart, that the chances of John and Elise surviving this illness now seemed impossible. Her eyes burned with terrified, grief-stricken tears. Her head hummed and her stomach churned.

“They’re all I have left in this world, William,” she whispered. Her tongue felt thick, as if it had suddenly grown far too big for her mouth. She swallowed hard as she tried to wipe her tears away. The attempt at lifting her hands seemed unmanageable.

Nora had not noticed the fact that Isobel had come into the room and now stood just a few steps away. She was holding fresh linens and more herbs. “I believe Wee William is right, Nora. Ye do need to rest.”

Nora spun and looked at her, the anger quite evident in her eyes. “What is it with all you Scots sneaking up on people like this?” Silent as church mice they seemed. Nora never knew anyone was there until they spoke or appeared in front of her eyes like an apparition.

“And why must you all be so confoundedly kind and beautiful?” she asked, her speech slurred.

Nora realized then that she was not making much sense. Isobel was perhaps one of the kindest women she’d ever met. And her beauty often made Nora feel out of place. It wasn’t envy she felt, but something that resembled a strong sense of inadequacy. Mayhap it was the lack of sleep and endless worry that made her feel that way.

The tears she’d been fighting to hold on to came rushing out. She was simply too tired to care anymore about hiding her pain. She had nothing left to give. There were no prayers left, no more bargains to be made with God, no more silent begging and pleading for John and Elise to recover. No more herbs, no more poultices, no more urging them to drink. She could not whisper in their ears again, begging them to fight and to live, simply because she couldn’t bear to be without them. Mayhap it was time to let them go, to end their suffering, to finally allow them peace.

She fell into a heap between the beds, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I’m so sorry that I let you both down.”

Wee William could take no more of her anguish. He scooped her up and held her in his arms and whispered comforting words to her.

“Please, I cannot leave them,” Nora sobbed into his chest. “I want to be here for them, William. Please, do not make me leave.”

Wee William felt as though his heart would shatter into a thousand pieces. Nora’s pain and anguish tugged and pulled at his soul. He could no more remove her from this room than he could move a mountain.

“Wheesht lass,” he whispered as he softly kissed the top of her head. “We’ll stay right here, I promise.” He sat down in the chair, adjusting her so that she was more comfortable, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. “We’ll sit here, in this chair and we will no’ leave until ye ask or until they get better.” He kissed the top of her head again.

Isobel placed the clean linens and herbs at the foot of Elise’s bed before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry, William,” Nora mumbled into his chest. “I….”

Wee William shushed her again as he rubbed the small of her back with his hand. “Wheesht, lass. Ye needn’t speak now. But please, just sleep for at least a little while. I’ll hold ye while ye rest.”

“I am so very tired, William. And I’m so very afraid that I’ll lose them.” She could not deny that it felt good to rest her head against his chest, just as she had done on their journey here. She felt safe again.

“I ken that, lass,” he whispered. He was afraid too. Afraid that the children would not live much longer and that when death finally came for them, it would destroy Nora’s very soul.

Isobel had returned a short time later with a blanket and carefully draped it around Nora’s shoulders. Nora cried until she had no more tears left. Wee William held her closely, allowing her to cry, offering soft, and calming words that all would be better.

As she finally succumbed to sleep, Nora could have sworn she heard Elise asking for water. But she was too tired to move. She had lost her mind. Elise’s voice was simply the last part of it leaving her.

Isobel let out a gasp of surprise when she heard Elise ask for water. She rushed to the child’s side and reflexively put a hand to Elise’s forehead. The child was soaked with sweat and her forehead cool to the touch. Isobel poured a cup of water and held it to the little girl’s lips.

“It’s very hot in here, Lady Isobel.” Elise began tossing blankets off and kicking her feet out from under the blankets and furs.

“Praise God,” Isobel murmured as she helped Elise drink her fill. “How do ye feel, lass?”

“My head hurts a bit, and I’m very tired,” she coughed slightly, covering her mouth with her small fist. Her ringlets of strawberry blonde hair were plastered to her head. “And I’m very hot!”

Isobel took cool cloths and began wiping the child’s face, neck and hands. She wasn’t ready yet to call the child cured. People often times appeared quite well for a day or two before succumbing to death.

“Let’s get ye into a clean nightdress,” Isobel said as she pulled the damp nightdress over Elise’s head.

“That’s better! Thank you Lady Isobel,” Elise smiled up at her and pushed herself to sit. She caught a glimpse of something behind Isobel and moved to see.

“Wee William!” Elise exclaimed. “Why are you holding Nora?”

For the first time in a very long time, Wee William found himself completely without words. He held onto Nora, afraid that if he let go, they’d both tumble to the floor.

“And why are you crying?” Elise asked as she scrunched her brows together and pursed her lips.

He hadn’t realized he had been crying until she pointed it out. He cleared his throat, sat up a bit taller in the chair and wiped his eyes on his shoulders. “’Tis yer beauty, Princess Elise. Brings tears to a Highlander’s eyes.” He wasn’t exactly lying. It was, perhaps, a beautiful sight to behold. A little girl, who only minutes ago, he was convinced was not long for this world, was now sitting up in her death bed, asking for water and inquiring about his tears.

Elise smiled brightly and even managed a weak giggle. “Sir William! You are silly!”

He could not contain his laughter. He threw his head back and laughed, relieved, and with a happiness that bordered on giddiness. Nora stirred every so slightly, moving her head as if she were trying to bury it into a pillow. Wee William quieted, and winked at Elise. “We best be quiet now, lassie. We dunna want to wake yer sister.”

Elise nodded her head. “Why is she so tired?” she whispered.

“She’s no’ left yer side or yer brother’s fer many days, Elise,” Isobel told her as she offered her another drink.

“I’ve been ill, haven’t I? And John too?” She searched for John and was relieved to see him asleep in the next bed. “How is John?”

Isobel shushed her and gently guided her to lay back. “Ye needn’t worry, lass. John will be well soon, just like ye. He’s sleepin’ like a good lad.”

“I feel like I’ve been asleep for a very long time.” Elise said as she yawned. “And my head hurts. I think I slept too much.”

Isobel ran another cool cloth across Elise’s face. She glanced over her shoulder at Wee William, who looked as though he’d just been given the greatest of gifts. She had no desire to tell him it was by no means time to celebrate or claim a full recovery. If the child were still awake and improving in a few more days,
then
they would celebrate.

“Wee William,” Isobel said to him over her shoulder. “Take Nora into Duncan’s old room. Then fetch Mary for me.”

He couldn’t will his feet to move just yet. He had promised Nora they would remain in this room until she woke or the children’s condition changed. Seeing that Elise was awake and Nora was sleeping through all the commotion, he doubted she’d be too upset with him.

He stood and adjusted Nora in his arms. She neither stirred nor protested. He smiled across the room at Elise. “I’ll be back soon, lass. Ye do as Isobel bids.”

Elise returned his smile with a weaker version of his and nodded her head. “Is Nora ill too?”

Wee William hadn’t given that a second thought until now. He prayed that her heavy sleep was from exhaustion and not the illness that had nearly taken Elise.

“Nay, she’s just a bit tired from takin’ care of ye and yer brother. Now, rest and I’ll return soon.” With that, he quit the room.

Wee William was growing more worried as the hours passed by at an agonizingly slow rate. He had stayed by Nora’s side all through the night, touching her forehead every half hour or so to make certain she had no fever. She rarely stirred. Occasionally she would mumble something incoherent, her brow creasing as if she were worried or confused.

Mary and Isobel had tried to assure him that she would be well and that it was simply a matter of being overcome with fatigue and worry. They were convinced that she would have shown other signs of the illness by now. Nora was simply worn out.

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