Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (17 page)

Until that moment, Horace had ignored the rumors. He had brushed them off as stories told by mindless idiots with nothing better to do with their time.

Horace was of the opinion that Aishlinn was a dimwitted fool of a woman, with no more sense than God gave a rock. He could hardly believe she had survived the beating the earl had given her, let alone had the ability to roam around the countryside or to find a home in Scotland.

But the appearance of all those Highlanders now made him seriously doubt his previous thoughts on that subject. It was the only thing that made sense at the moment. Aishlinn still lived.

The more he thought on it, the more he believed it to be true, and the angrier he became. Something had been hidden in the cellar. But what?

It had to be something of great value for he couldn’t imagine a group of Highlanders travelling in this weather to burst into his home in the middle of the night for sheer amusement. Aye, they were greedy bastards, every last Scot. Gluttonous fools as well. Nay,
it,
whatever
it
was, had to have been worth a significant amount of coin.

His mind raced at the possibilities. Aishlinn’s grandfather
had
been a very wealthy Englishmen, that much he knew from the stories his father, Broc, had told him. Could it be possible that for years, Aishlinn had kept some valuable treasure hidden away? If so, why hadn’t she used them to leave long before he’d traded her to Castle Firth?

Aye, it was a very distinct possibility that the stupid girl hadn’t realized she owned a treasure or anything of value. Mayhap, she had discussed it with the Scots and discovered the value of it by happenstance. And greedy bastards that they were, they decided to descend upon his home to take it!

Clarity began to bloom. His heart raced as his anger steadily boiled. All these years and untold treasures had been underfoot! By rights, it was
his
treasure. Whatever it was, it belonged to him. He’d put a roof over Aishlinn’s head. He had fed her. She owed him.

Before he realized it, he was pacing back and forth, his mind conjuring up all sorts of possibilities as to what had lain under his nose all these years. It couldn’t be coin, for even Aishlinn was smart enough to know the value of silver or gold. Nay, it had to be something significant, yet small enough to fit in the hole below. Something so valuable that it would make Highlanders come for it.

The more his mind raced, the angrier he became until he could contain it no longer. He let out a furious yell that jolted his brothers from their sleep.

When he was finished, he was covered in sweat and so furious that his heart pounded in his chest. Something inside him, something dark and menacing, told Horace that he had to do two things.

One, he must find out what the hidden treasure was and two, he must exact his revenge on both Aishlinn and Nora. Aishlinn for being so stupid that she had hidden something of great value from him and Nora for leaving him embarrassed and humiliated.

As his brothers sat quietly watching him, a plan began to form in his mind. No matter what the cost, no matter what trials he must go through, he
would
find the two women who had caused him untold pain. And he would get even with both.

Nine

W
ee William and his men rode like the devil was chasing them to reach Castle Gregor. Not much was said among them, save for the frequent inquiries by the men as to how Elise fared. Daniel and David raced ahead to let their clan know that they had returned, bringing with them people in need of their help.

By the time Wee William, Nora, Elise and the others arrived, the castle was a whirlwind of motion. At the top of the stairs leading up and into the castle, stood Isobel, the chief’s wife. Next to her was Mary, the castle’s cook and healer. Neither of them looked happy.

Mary, her long white hair pulled away from her face and into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, was wiping her hands on her apron. She studied the group as it came bounding into the courtyard.

“What do ye suppose Wee William has go’ himself into?” Mary asked Isobel.

“I canna begin to guess, Mary,” Isobel answered as she tucked a loose bit of her black hair behind her ear. “I hope that whatever ails this child, it willna spread to anyone else.”

Mary nodded her head in agreement before crossing herself.

Daniel appeared from behind Isobel and Mary, and came running down the stairs and straight to Wee William and Nora. Wee William brought his horse to an abrupt stop. The horse snorted and huffed and shook its head, jangling leather and bit.

Daniel did not wait for Nora or Wee William to dismount before grabbing Elise from Nora’s arms and running back into the castle. Mary was right behind him, shouting out orders in Gaelic.

“Take her to Aishlinn’s auld room,” she told him as they climbed the stairs.

As Wee William helped Nora down, Isobel came to them.

“Wee William!” She did not look the least bit happy to see them as she studied Nora. Her appraisal made Nora feel quite uneasy.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Isobel asked as Wee William dismounted and handed his horse off to a stable boy.

Nora could not understand what the woman was saying and looked at Wee William for help.

“Isobel,” Wee William said in English. “This be Nora Crawford of Penrith.”

Isobel recognized the last name and did nothing to disguise her surprise or displeasure. She looked directly at Nora and continued to speak in the Gaelic.

“Crawford? Have ye lost yer mind, Wee William?”

“’Tis no’ what ye think, Isobel. She be a Crawford only by marriage.”

Isobel glared at Wee William. Angus was
not
going to like this, not at all. Isobel wasn’t sure if she really cared how the lass was related to any of the Crawford’s. Her thoughts immediately turned to Aishlinn. They’d spent the last year trying to keep her existence a secret, for her own safety as well as the clan’s. Now, Wee William brings a Crawford into their midst.

“Why is she here?” Isobel seethed.

“She needs our help, Isobel. She was married to Horace.”

“Horace?” She looked Nora up and down. “What do you mean
was?
”

“That be a long story, Isobel. Mayhap we can talk after we see the lass gets a bath, clean clothes and a hot meal?”

Isobel shook her head in disgust. Instinct warned her that she would not like the story behind the young woman’s presence.

Nora had been listening, unable to understand
what
they were saying. But Isobel’s tone of voice and the angry glances she shot at Nora said plenty; her presence here was not a welcome one.

Wee William had warned Nora that while she would receive his protection as well as his men’s, it might take a few days for his clan to warm to having another Sassenach living among them. He had assured her that once they knew the reasons why she was there, his clan would soon warm to the idea. She had prayed these past many days that he was correct and that they would at least be civil and courteous. But the looks this woman was giving her said that would not be the case.

Nora tamped down her disappointment and tried to look as though she did not care what Isobel’s opinion of her was. She could remain silent no longer.

“M’lady,” Nora said with a short curtsey. “I know our presence here is not welcomed and I apologize for the inconvenience we are causing. You have my word that we will leave as soon as my sister, Elise, is well enough to travel. I ask naught of you or your people other than a warm place for her to recover.” She refused to cry or to beg. Her only concern at the moment was Elise’s health.

Isobel’s expression had changed from anger to curiosity as she studied Nora. The young woman looked gaunt, exhausted, and worried. Though she was covered with mud and muck, she stood with her chin up and her back straight.

Isobel caught a note of pride in the girl, but it wasn’t born of arrogance or conceit. Isobel took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. Sympathy for Nora as well as the sick little girl on her way above stairs began to creep in.

“Please forgive my manners, lass. I tend to be overly protective of my family and my clan, as I’m sure ye are of yours.”

Nora tilted her head slightly. “Aye, I am. There’s naught I wouldn’t do for them.”

Isobel nodded her head approvingly and turned her attention back to Wee William. “Lets get inside. I’ve put the babe in Aishlinn’s auld room. I’m sure Nora will want to stay with her. Ye all look as though ye could use a hot bath and some clean clothes!”

Wee William’s shoulders sagged with relief. He knew that if Isobel was willing to help Nora and her family, then the rest of the clan would soon follow her lead. They trusted Isobel’s judgment and guidance. He smiled with the thought that this might end up being easier than he anticipated, until he thought of Angus.

His smile quickly evaporated. How would his chief take this news?

“Bloody hell!” Angus’ deep voice echoed throughout the war room. He stood with his palms spread on the top of the table as he glowered at Wee William and the rest of the men who faced him. The clan council sat around the table, waiting in silence while their chief finished his tirade.

“Bloody hell!” he was beginning to repeat himself.

Shaking his head in frustration, Angus pushed himself up and ran a hand through his long blonde hair. He was more than forty now, but no one would guess it from his broad chest and well-muscled arms. The men who surrounded him had witnessed his anger on more than one occasion. Angus let out a deep breath of air and crossed his arms over his chest.

Seventeen years ago when he’d been made chief of Clan MacDougall, he had been honored. While it hadn’t always been easy, Angus McKenna had taken his duties and responsibilities seriously and he’d always done what he thought was best for his clan. The safety of his clan, as well as his wife and children, were always at the forefront of any decision he made.

“We pass a decree immediately that does no’ allow any unmarried man to cross on to English land!” Angus said through gritted teeth. Fergus, one of the oldest members of the clan and the council, chuckled at Angus’ directive. Angus ignored him.

“Every time one of ye goes across that border, ye come back with a woman! And no’ just
any
woman! Nay, ye come back with a
Sassenach
woman who threatens the safety of this clan!”

Fergus smiled and chuckled again. “Need I remind ye, Angus, that were it no’ for some of these young men, ye’d no’ ken about yer own daughter?”

Angus fumed. “I ken that fact very well, Fergus! But that is well beside the point. They brought back the wife of the man who made me daughter’s life a livin’ hell for her whole life! And they canna even tell me if the man lives or no’.”

“Chances are they didna survive the night,” Rowan said as he tried to offer some hope. Angus shot him an angry glare that warned him to keep his mouth shut.

“Chances are? Chances are?” Angus seethed. “Aye, ’tis possible that the bastards succumbed to the elements and the wolves still feast on their dead bodies,” he feigned calmness as he paced behind the table.

“Aye, ’tis indeed possible.” He clasped his hands behind his back and appeared as though he were giving that possibility some weight.

Suddenly he stopped and spun to look at the young men lined against the wall. “’Tis
also
quite possible that the whoresons live and they are on their way to this castle now! What then? Have ye considered that?”

Wee William’s jaw was set, his shoulders back with his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. It would be over his dead body that they’d turn Nora over to Horace,
if
he ever showed up to claim her. From what Rowan had told him, the night they took Horace and his brothers away, not once had he inquired as to the safety or wellbeing of his wife. Such a man would not travel far to rescue his wife.

The bruises on Nora’s face were all that Wee William needed to confirm his suspicion that Horace Crawford was a coward.

“He’ll no’ come fer her,” Wee William said pointedly.