The Clan MacDougall Series (123 page)

She left him alone then, to think. She hurried along the pathway that led to the castle. Along the way, she prayed that Wee William would come to his senses and that she had somehow gotten through to him. If her words did not work, there was always plan B. But that involved yards and yards of rope, a sleeping potion, and bribing the priest. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

The grand gathering room was filled to standing room only with single men of all ages gathered at Angus’ order. Rowan, Black Richard, Daniel, and David stood together at the front of the room, each craning their necks in hopes that Wee William would soon appear.

Angus sat in a tall chair in the center of the dais, with his wife, Isobel to his left and Nora to his right. His daughters, Aishlinn and Bree, sat directly behind Nora, offering their moral support to the dispirited looking lass. Duncan was pacing in front of him, waiting anxiously for the signal that the man of the hour was approaching.

The clan chief was enjoying himself immensely. He had twenty groats wagered in favor of Wee William appearing and another ten that said he’d fight any man in the room who so much as cast an improper glance toward Nora.

The men had all been informed, much to their relief, that a husband wouldn’t actually be chosen for Nora this day. It was all a ruse to get Wee William to finally admit he had feelings for Nora. And if that didn’t work, there was always the plan B that Duncan and Rowan had devised. Their money was riding on the implementation of plan B.

Rowan had lost all faith in his friend, convinced he was that Wee William was far too afraid to voluntarily express his desire to marry Nora. He actually looked forward to hogtying the fool and dragging him to the alter. Frankly, Duncan and Black Richard hoped the man wouldn’t show for the mere fact that they, too, wanted to see how many ropes it would take to bind Wee William.

The only one in the room not aware of the ruse was Nora. She looked utterly deflated as she sat in her dark green gown, her hair plaited into a long braid. Aishlinn had been so certain that
whoever he was,
as she’d come to referring to the mystery man, who had instilled so much fear into the other men, would be forced to declare for her once he learned that Angus was going to pick someone this day. They’d been in the gathering room for more than half an hour and not one man had yet to step forward.

Elise and John sat at one of the long tables with a group of other children. Whereas Elise was happily chatting away, excited that Nora would soon be receiving a good husband, John was not as thrilled. He was doing his best to adjust to his new life, but Nora felt there was still a part of his heart that longed to return to England.

Nora quietly watched her brother and sister as she waited for this day to finally be done with. Angus had told her that she could turn down any man he might choose for her. While that brought her a good sense of relief, she still felt it necessary to move forward with her decision. If
whoever he is
, did not have the courage to claim her, then so be it.

She had not slept well last night. Her thoughts were consumed with wondering who the mystery man might be and what would happen this day.

Secretly, she held on to the hope that it was Wee William. Her feelings for him had not waned, even though she had not seen him in days. She missed the meals they had taken together when the children were sick. She missed their quiet talks. She missed him.

Whenever he was near, she felt safe and protected. She felt a sense of peace and calmness come over her, but oddly enough, she also felt excited and breathless. Her feelings were a jumbled mess of nonsensical emotions that she could not understand.

Nora’s aching heart told her that the mystery man could not be Wee William. He was the bravest, strongest, and most kind man that she had ever known. She was quite confident that had he held any feelings for her he would have voiced them long ago. How could a man as brave and kind as he put her through such an ordeal as this?

Nay, she told herself. Wee William will not be shaving his beard for me.

Angus began to grow worried. He had too much money riding on this afternoon. Granted, the amount he’d wagered would not break the coffers, but it was the principal of matter. And he hated being wrong.

He cast an anxious look at Duncan who simply shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Where in the hell was the fool?

Angus looked at the room full of men and women. His people stood shoulder to shoulder before him and many had taken positions on the walkways on the second and third floors in hopes of witnessing what may be one of the most momentous occasions to take place in this great hall. The longer they waited, the more he, too, began to look forward to hunting the fool down, binding him head to toe in rope, and dragging him to the kirk.

Nora’s beautiful face seemed to grow more sorrowful as the long moments passed by. Aishlinn had moved her chair to sit beside her and was now holding her hand.

Angus leaned in to speak with his wife. “Where is the fool?” he asked her impatiently.

Isobel offered him a warm, comforting smile as she patted his hand. “He’ll be here,” she told him.

Angus sighed heavily. “Always the romantic, ye are,” he said.

Her smile brightened. “Do ye no’ remember how long it took
ye
to admit yer feelings for me?”

He cleared his throat and sat upright. “’Twasn’t
that
long, wife.”

Isobel giggled at her husband’s embarrassed expression. “’Twas far too long for
my
liking. Ye Highlanders can be a stubborn lot,” she said as she turned back to look at the crowd. “But glad I was when ye finally came around.”

With the end of his patience reached, he decided to proceed. Mayhap if the lass would turn away all those that he might choose for her, word would reach the obstinate fool and he’d realize what the rest of them knew without question: Nora’s heart belonged to Wee William.

Angus cleared his throat again and stood, gaining the attention of most in the room. “We will begin with the proceedings!” His deep voice carried through the room and everyone settled into quiet anticipation.

He cast another wary look at Duncan and received the same response he’d received for more than an hour.

“Black Richard, son of Galen of Lochbraene,” Angus called out. “Step forward.”

Black Richard smiled and stepped forward to stand in front of Angus. Bending to one knee and bowing his head, he said, “M’laird.”

“Black Richard,” Angus began. “I present to you, Nora Crawford.”

Black Richard stood, nodded his head and stepped toward Nora and smiled. “Lass, how be ye this fine spring day?” He held out his hand.

Nora glanced at Aishlinn, unsure of what she was supposed to do at this point. Aishlinn giggled and whispered in her ear. “Just offer yer hand to him, lass. Then tell Angus if ye accept him.”

Nora swallowed hard, and slowly extended her trembling hand to Black Richard. She knew him to be a kind and honorable man. He would make any woman a fine husband. However, when Black Richard took her hand, she did not feel the same rush of excitement that came with Wee William’s touch.

I cannot do this!
She thought to herself. Her heart screamed for her to grab John and Elise, race from the room, and head back to England. She did not want to accept this man, yet she did not want to hurt his feelings either. Suddenly, she felt decidedly stupid for even thinking it was a good idea for Angus to find her a husband!

Black Richard smiled, gave her a devilish wink, and whispered, “Nay, lass, I be no’ the one ye seek.”

Nora wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or mortified. Had he read her mind? He looked neither wounded nor happy, yet there was a twinkle in his eye, as if he held some secret.

Black Richard nodded his head and stepped away.

“Daniel, son of Floyd, step forward,” Angus called the next victim to the front of the room.

Daniel appeared, knelt as Black Richard had, before being introduced to Nora. She thought the introductions unnecessary and bordered on the ridiculous. She’d known these men for weeks, thought of them as friends.

Daniel took her hand and repeated the exact words that Black Richard had said. “Nay lass, I be no’ the one ye seek.”

Nora stared at him, as confused as she’d ever been in her life.

“Rowan Graham,” Angus called out. “Son of Andrew, step forward.”

Nora’s stomach tightened at the sound of Rowan’s name being called. She prayed he wasn’t the one. He was beyond handsome and she didn’t think she could be married to a man quite as beautiful as him. He made her extremely nervous, especially when he smiled at her.

His teeth were perfect, his hair perfect, not a scar anywhere to be seen on his face. His lips were perfectly full, and she was certain he had long ago perfected the art of kissing and seduction. She doubted she would survive a full hour being his wife, for she’d swoon herself to death. Kind? Yes, he was. Honorable? There was no doubt. Yet, there was something unnerving about him. Mayhap it was his perfection.

He was holding her hand, and she felt the sudden need to find the necessary and relieve her bladder.
Please, good Lord, do not let it be him!

Those deep brown eyes of his captivated her and when he winked, she felt her stomach tighten further.
Nay, I’d not survive the wedding!

Lost as she was in her silent prayers and those dark brown eyes of Rowan Graham, she had not heard the murmur that had broken out amongst the throng of people crowded in the room. She was too busy trying to keep her terrified and uneasy stomach from upheaving itself all over the Greek God before her.

She thought she heard someone say Rowan’s name, but for the life of her she could not pull her eyes away from his.

“Do ye fancy that hand of yers?”

Rowan cast a devilish smile at Nora, gave her a quick wink, and turned his head to face the voice. “Aye, I do.”

“Then kindly remove it from her person.”

Nora blinked, finally able to tear her eyes away from Rowan.

Nora bolted to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. Angus stood, just as surprised, for he had given up all hope. Rowan let loose Nora’s hand, stood slowly and turned to look at Wee William.

“Ye shaved yer beard!” Apparently, Angus and Rowan were just as stunned as Nora, for the two of them spoke in unison. That was her same thought. However, her words were temporarily lodged in her throat like a bundle of walnuts.

Her first thought was how her heart stung with a trace of regret, for now she’d never learn if his beard would tickle if he ever took the chance to kiss her.

Her second thoughts bordered on the sinful. How could a man look so completely menacing and magnificent at the same time? Nora had never contemplated what he might look like without all that red-brown hair covering his face and chest. She had looked upon his beard as a permanent part of him, much like his legs and arms. What a glorious surprise had lain hidden all this time!

She took a hard, long look at him, starting at the top of his head. He had cut his hair to just past his shoulders and it was still damp from washing it. He wore two braids on the left side of his face, tied at the end with little bits of leather.

His face was startlingly handsome and it did in fact take her breath away. Long, rich, soft looking eyelashes surrounded his warm, bright hazel eyes. His nose, broken probably more times than he could remember, seemed far less bulbous without the bushy mustache and beard. He had very nice cheekbones and she could see the few places he had nicked himself while shaving his beard. Gloriously full lips that, at the moment, were pursed together in the most serious of expressions.

He was not nearly as heavy looking as she had thought him to be. A white linen tunic was stretched across his fine, massive chest, the arms of which looked as though they had been painted onto his skin! Bulging muscles. Massive muscles.

The tunic showed his narrow hips, and was tucked into a kilt made of MacDougall plaid that hit in the middle of his knees. Rich looking leather boots were stretched around calves that had to have been chiseled from stone.

God-almighty! Had Aishlinn not been standing next to her, holding her up, she would have immediately swooned.

Aye, Rowan Graham was a beautiful man. But Wee William was spectacular.

“I’d like a word with Nora. Alone,” Wee William said in a tone that bordered on murderous. Nora thought it went perfectly with the rage-filled stare he was giving Rowan.

“Ye would, would ye?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms over his chest, feet planted apart. “And what if the lass does not wish to speak with ye?”

Wee William pinned Rowan in place with a glare that might have made any other man run screaming like a wee lass. Rowan simply smiled in return.

Somehow Nora had managed to dislodge the walnuts in her throat. “I’ll speak with him!” she blurted out.

Wee William growled, grabbed her hand, and stomped away from the dais, out of the gathering room and into a small room the women sometimes used for sewing. He pulled Nora inside and slammed the door behind them.

“Did Rowan Graham ask fer yer hand?” He was pacing back and forth as much as the small room would allow.

“Nay,” Nora squeaked. She did not bother to tell Wee William that she would have turned Rowan down had he made such an offer.

Wee William stopped in the center of the room and looked at her. She had her back pressed firmly against the wall and her face held a frightened expression. It brought back the memory of the night back in England, when she had been doing everything she could to keep from joining him in the cellar. A flood of something warm, comforting, and peaceful instantly replaced the rage he had been feeling only a moment before.

They stood looking at one another for a few moments before he finally spoke again.

“I had a speech all planned out in me head. Practiced it for the past hour. And now that I’m here, I find I canna remember a word of it.”

Nora raised her eyebrow. “A speech? For me?” She felt a tickle of something in the pit of her stomach.