Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (4 page)

’Twas then that Nora’s expression changed and she looked rather anxious. She took a deep breath before answering. “I hid them in the cellar.”

Wee William’s eyes immediately went to the floor and he began looking for the door to the cellar.

“M’lord,” Nora whispered, knowing what his eyes searched for. “’Tis under the table.”

As Wee William made his way across the room, the door to the cottage opened and Daniel and David walked in. Their presence gave Wee William pause.

“Rowan and the others are takin’ the brothers away now, Wee William,” Daniel said in Gaelic.

Wee William nodded his head in approval. “Good. Now help me move the table. I ken where Aishlinn’s treasures are.”

Curious glances flew between the three men before landing on Nora. “How do ye ken?” David asked, surprised by the news.

“The lass,” Wee William told him, nodding his head toward Nora. “She came upon them and hid them before Horace could sell them.”

She hadn’t a clue what they were saying but could assume the discussion involved her for they were all staring at her. She began to grow uneasy.

Wee William seemed kind enough. Still, she had no guarantees as to what his intentions were. Remembering that Horace had been kind to her at one point, until he got what he wanted, brought forth an uneasiness that to spread to her toes. She backed away from them.

“She says the treasures be in the cellar,” Wee William said as he moved the table aside and knelt on one knee. His men joined him and together they looked for the door that led to the cellar. It took only a moment before they found the small knothole and Daniel thrust his fingers in and lifted the door.

The three men stared into blackness for a moment before Daniel grabbed a candle, lit it and held it into the opening. A decrepit looking ladder led down into a large hole that was devoid of all light. It was impossible to estimate how deep or wide the cellar was. Even with the candlelight they couldn’t see the bottom.

Wee William turned his attention back to Nora who now stood across the room, next to the fireplace. She looked positively terrified. Her good eye was opened wide and she had sucked in her bottom lip. He could see her hands tremble slightly.

Wee William looked at Daniel and David. “Hold the candle,” he said as he handed it to Daniel. “I’ll go down.”
 

With nod of his head, Wee William twisted around and began lowering himself down the ladder. It creaked and groaned and for a brief moment, he thought it would give out. Cautiously, he stepped down a few more rungs then reached up for the candle before resuming his descent.

The ladder shook and groaned but eventually, Wee William’s feet hit dirt. From where he stood, he estimated the hole to be at least ten feet deep and mayhap six feet wide. He held the candle out at arms length to get a better glimpse at his surroundings. Mostly empty shelves lined the walls of the cellar. A few dust covered jars and an old and dingy looking cloth made up the entire contents of the cellar.

Wee William let out a frustrated breath of air and looked around the small space but could find nothing of Aishlinn’s treasures.

“Nora!” he called up from the cellar. “Where be the treasures, lass?”

For a long moment there was no response. Finally David spoke. “She says they be behind the ladder,” he called down to Wee William.

Wee William took a step toward the ladder and held the candle out, looking for any sign of the treasures. He reached out a hand, but found no shelves or any space where anything could be resting or hidden.

“Nay,” Wee William shouted up to his men. “I find nothin’ here.”

He heard mumbled voices above him as he continued to look.

“She says there be a spot in the wall, behind the ladder, toward the floor.” David called down to him. “Ye’ll have to look a bit to find a loose stone. Ye’ll remove the stone and Aishlinn’s treasures be behind it.”

Rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath, Wee William bent to his knees. He reached around the ladder, best that he could within the tight confines, and felt for the loose stone. Nothing.

Irritated with wasting time, he shouted. “Send the lass down!”

He could hear a scuffling of feet and a muffled discussion taking place above him. Standing to his full height, he tried to wait patiently for Nora to appear on the ladder.

“I said, send the lass down!” he shouted up to his men.

Some time passed before Daniel replied. “The lass says to tell ye she’d prefer no’ to.”

Wee William’s brow knotted. “What the bloody,” he let out an exasperated sigh. “What do ye mean she prefers no’ to?”

Daniel cleared his throat before answering. “She prefers no’ to go into the cellar.”

Wee William shook his head, ran a hand across his forehead and let loose a low grumble. He climbed the ladder until his head popped through the opening and searched for Nora.

She hadn’t moved from her spot against the wall.

“Lass,” he began. His voice was gruff. “I need yer help. Now, come below and help me find Aishlinn’s things!” He hadn’t intended to sound so angry, but he had little patience left.

Nora shook her head and pressed her back more firmly against the wall.
 

“Lass,” he said gruffly. “Do no’ dally there! Come help me find Aishlinn’s things!”

She shook her head again, a bit more vigorously.

Wee William studied her more closely. Though he was a good six or seven feet from her, he could see her trembling and immediately felt guilty for being so short tempered with her.

“Lass, why will ye no’ come help me?”

She swallowed hard and seemed to be searching for words. Several long moments passed and Wee William was beginning to think she’d not answer him. Finally, she spoke, her voice cracking. “I do not like it down there.”

Her eyes connected with his, silently pleading with him to not push the matter further. ’Twas just a cellar, a place meant to store foods and other necessities. Why on earth was she so frightened?

“Please,” she begged, a definitive tremble to her voice.

Wee William held out his hand. “Lass, I need yer help.”

Nora swallowed hard again and appeared as if she were fighting some inner battle with herself.

“The stone is in the left corner, behind the ladder. I’m sure ye’ll find it,” she offered quietly.

Wee William let out a long breath. “Lass, we’re wastin’ time. Please, now, come help me.”

A flash of anger filled her eyes. “No,” she told him firmly.

“Why will ye no’ come and help me find the blasted stone?” The conversation was going in circles.

Nora stood a bit taller. “I’ve my reasons.”

She’d never been afraid of the dark until the past year. Until she’d married Horace and her life began to fall apart in huge, ugly pieces.

Nora looked into Wee William’s face for some sign of trickery or deceit. They’d already told her they were going to kill Horace and his brothers. What was to stop them from leaving her in the cellar? Nay, she did not want to die that way.

“M’lord,” she began, “I’d truly prefer not to go into the cellar. Keep looking and I’m sure you’ll find Aishlinn’s things.” The only way she’d go into the cellar was kicking and screaming.

Wee William took a step up the ladder and studied her more closely. He had no doubt she was afraid, mayhap of the dark, or mayhap of being alone in the cellar with him. He felt something tighten in his chest. He didn’t want the young woman to fear him.
 

“Lass, I promise I’ll no’ harm ye. And if it’s the dark ye be afraid of, lass, I’ve a candle.” He stretched his hand out a bit further.
 

Nora continued to look for some sign that he was being disingenuous. In the beginning of her marriage, Horace had fooled her more times than she could count or cared to admit. Months ago she had promised herself that she’d not let another man make a fool of her.

For inexplicable reasons however, she felt she could trust this giant man and his friends. They were all staring at her, looking perplexed by her refusal to enter the cellar. Their eyes held nothing but patience and concern. There wasn’t the disdain or duplicity that she often found looking at Horace or his brothers.

Nora swallowed hard and took a step forward, albeit on very shaky legs. She prayed inwardly that she wasn’t being played the fool again. She reasoned that had they wanted her dead they would have taken her along with her husband. They would have killed her already. Or worse.

Wee William let a slight sigh of relief pass through his lips when she approached. Nora knelt and looked him in the eyes.

“Do I have your promise that you’ll not leave me below?” she whispered.

His chest tightened again for now he understood the reasons behind her trepidation.
 
She was afraid he’d leave her in the cellar.

“I do so promise, lass.” He smiled warmly at her before carefully stepping back down the ladder.

By the time Nora reached the bottom rung, her brow and upper lip were covered in sweat. Not from exertion, but from the undeniable fear that enveloped her.
 
Her throat was tight and had gone completely dry. She paused on the bottom rung and prayed Wee William wouldn’t over power her, race up the ladder and pull it away before she had a chance to react.

After a time, she felt a large hand touch her waist. She took in a deep breath and waited, all the while her hands maintaining a death grip on the rung.

“Lass,” Wee William whispered. “I promise I’ll no’ leave ye.”

He would have sworn he could feel the fear emanate from her and hoped that she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

Taking a deep breath, Nora finally took the last step off the ladder and let loose her grip. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirts and turned around to face Wee William.

Above stairs, she had appeared small. But in the tight confines of the cellar Wee William could see that she was taller than most women. Even so, compared to Wee William, she was a wee thing. The top of her head barely reached his heart, which was at that very moment, pounding ferociously within his chest.

Trembling still, she looked up and stared into his eyes. “I do not like it down here,” she whispered, as if her trembling hands and fear filled eyes weren’t evidence enough.

“Then lets hurry and get Aishlinn’s things so we may get above stairs,” Wee William whispered as he offered her a reassuring smile.

Nora gave a quick nod and spun on her heels. She wiggled her way into the small space behind the ladder and in a matter of moments, had removed the stone, withdrawn a sack, and returned to Wee William.

She started to hand the sack to him, but thought better of it. Clutching it to her chest she eyed him suspiciously. He could not resist the smile that came to his lips. He could have taken that sack from her with very little effort.

“Ye can go first lass,” he told her as he nodded toward the ladder.

As if fearing he’d change his mind, Nora quickly raced up the ladder. Moments later when Wee William emerged from the cellar, he found her once again, against the wall, clutching the sack to her bosom.

“I thank ye, Nora, and I’m certain Aishlinn would thank ye as well.”

Nora gave a slight nod of her head to him. “I give ye my word, m’lord, that I’ll not tell anyone that Aishlinn lives.”

Daniel and David chuckled at the title Nora had bestowed upon their friend. Wee William cast them a look of admonition before turning his attention back to Nora. “I be no laird, lass. Just a man.”

He came to stand before her and Nora thrust out the hand holding the sack. Wee William took it, but continued to gaze at her face. Inwardly, he hoped that Horace and his brothers would make some grave error in judgment that would give good reason for Rowan to insure they’d not live to see the light of another day.

Wee William’s mind was a whirlwind of jumbled thoughts and images of mayhap placing a kiss on the lips of the woman standing before him. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something intelligent to say.

“Where will ye go now, lass?” he asked.

“To retrieve my younger brother and sister from Firth.”

Wee William’s brow furrowed at the mention of Firth. His good friend, Duncan McEwan had killed Desmond Walcott, the Seventh Earl of Perth last summer when the man had made the mistake of trying to rape Aishlinn -- a second time. Aye, ’twas good to know that man was dead, but who knew what kind of man had taken his place.

“Firth?” Wee William asked with more than a hint of alarm in his voice.

Nora looked puzzled by his alarmed tone. “Aye, Firth,” she answered. “Horace sent my brother and sister there the day after we married.” Her good eye filled with sadness and her face fell. It was plainly evident that the memory was not a pleasant one.

Wee William’s eye began to twitch. The more he learned of Horace, the more his hatred toward the man intensified. Horace was fond of sending innocent people to Firth. He’d sent his own stepsister, Aishlinn, there with no regard whatsoever to her safety.
 

“John is two and ten, and Elise is only six. I’ve not seen them in months.” She choked slightly on the tears that threatened.