Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (7 page)

When Nora clamped her hand over John’s mouth, she made sure to keep her head away from his hand. John was notorious for waking up swinging and he did just that. Bolting upright, he flung out his arm and the back of his hand landed across David’s nose.

It was all David could do not to swing back or yell at the lad. Grabbing his nose, cursing under his breath, he grabbed John’s hand to keep him from swinging again.

“John!” Nora whispered. “’Tis me Nora! I’ve come to take you away!” She waited a moment for recognition to settle in before removing her hand from his mouth.

In the time it took for a heart to beat once, John’s tense shoulders sagged and his eyes filled with relief. “I thought you were Mad George coming to try to bugger me again!”

Nora hadn’t a clue what he meant and supposed she had disturbed John’s dream. She noticed David flinch as he drew his dirk from his waist and glance around the room.

“Put your shoes on, John!” she whispered.

John did as he was told without question. He donned his shoes and grabbed his cloak that he had draped across the blanket of his pallet. Silently, he followed between his sister and the strange man who was with her.

They paused at the door that led to the young ladies’ solar next door. Nora carefully opened it a crack and peeked inside. Thankfully it appeared all its inhabitants were asleep.

Nora turned and motioned to John and David to wait while she slipped into the girl’s solar. She knew if any of the women in the solar were roused, they’d not become alarmed at seeing another female figure in the dark. But a young boy and a large Highlander would bring forth enough screaming to wake the dead.

It took less time to find Elise than it had to find John. Elise was in a far corner of the room. Anger swelled when Nora saw her baby sister curled into a tight ball, wearing her cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, to help ward off the cold. Could the older women not show some amount of compassion toward such a small girl and at the least offer to let her sleep near the fire?

Nora resisted the urge to scream at these women and instead, gently nudged Elise awake. Elise’s little eyes widened with surprise and delight. When she saw the child draw in a deep breath in preparation of a happy squeal, Nora shushed her by placing a hand across the little girl’s mouth.

“Ssshh, Elise!” Nora warned her softly. “We’re taking you away this night. John awaits next door. I’m here to take you home, child. Ye mustn’t utter a sound or a word until we are far from here, Elise. Do you understand?”

Elise nodded her head vigorously. When Nora removed her hand, Elise held her arms up and beamed a very bright smile. Nora smiled in return before scooping the little girl up into her arms. Nora looked around for the little girl’s shoes before realizing she was wearing them, more likely than not to keep her little feet warm. Shaking her head, Nora made a solemn vow that she’d never allow her brother or sister to live in such poor conditions again. Silently they made their way across the room and back to the man’s solar where David and John waited.

Together the four of them wound their way back to the window where Wee William and Daniel waited below. Nora whispered into John’s ear that two fine gentlemen waited below and to do exactly as they said. John nodded once before he climbed out the window. He cast a glance to the dark figures below before looking back to his sister for some reassurance.

David clasped his arm around John’s before lowering him as far as he was able. John squeezed his eyes shut before letting loose and falling. Thankfully, Wee William broke his fall with a grunt. He righted the boy, turned him around and pushed him off toward Daniel.

“Ye go next, lass,” David said as he took Elise from Nora’s arms. Nora quickly explained to Elise that no matter how frightened she might be, she needed to remain quiet and let the nice man below catch her.

Reluctantly, Elise agreed and allowed David to set her on the ledge before dropping her to Wee William’s waiting arms.

’Twas Nora’s turn next. Without a word, she grabbed David’s arm, swung over the ledge and fell. She hadn’t warned Wee William that she was coming, and knocked him backward and onto the ground. His breath was momentarily taken away when he fell onto his back with her knee pressed firmly into his groin.

Without bothering to check if he was still alive, Nora apologized quickly. “My apologies, William!” she said as she scurried to her feet and grabbed her sister’s hand. Wee William remained prone as David fell away from the window. He landed on his feet before falling forward and landing on Wee William in a heap of grunts and curses.

As his eyes watered from the pain shooting through his loins, Wee William began to doubt his ability to live through this night, or at the least make it out with his manly parts safely in tact.

They left Wee William where he lay as they hurried across the lawn toward the wall. It wasn’t until Wee William heard the angry barking of dogs that he found both the strength and the wind to move. He rolled to his feet as three mean, growling, snarling dogs rounded the corner at a full run.

The dogs were fast on his heals by the time he made his way through the hidden door and slammed it shut. A moment later, the warning bells sounded and much shouting could be heard coming from within the castle walls.

Nora was handing Elise up to David as John was scrambling up to sit behind Daniel. Wee William threw himself up onto his own horse and raced toward Nora. He leaned over, grabbed her around her waist and lifted her onto his lap before she could even make sense of what was happening.

Bare branches scratched and clawed at them as they raced through the dense forest. Nora clung to Wee William’s waist, all the while praying she’d not be jostled off the horse, and that no one in the castle would realize exactly what had happened until they were safely across the border.

No one spoke a word as they tore across the countryside. Nora was amazed that Elise had remained as quiet as she had for the child usually talked incessantly. Mayhap it was the fear that hung over them like a heavy cloak that made the child remain silent.

For now, Nora wouldn’t question the reason for the silence. She would instead be glad for it. She knew that once Elise was permitted to speak, the Highlanders would undoubtedly begin to question their offer of help.

’Twas all that Rowan, Black Richard and the others could do to maintain serious expressions and not burst out laughing at the three clumsy and terrified brothers. Horace had been complaining over the less-than-kind treatment he was being given.

For more than an hour he had been trying to convince Rowan and the other Highlanders that he was an earl. Considering the poor conditions of the farm and cottage a claim at being a member of the aristocracy was laughable.

The Highlanders were on horseback surrounding Horace and his brothers, Donald and Nigel. The Englishmen fell repeatedly, only to be drawn to their feet again by a hard yank on the rope that was tied around each of their waists.

“Ye best calm yerselves, lads.” Rowan’s voice was low and cool
 
“Wolves can smell fear from miles away.”

Of the three, Nigel seemed the smartest. He thumped the back of Donald’s head with the palm of his hand and told him to quiet down for he didn’t want the wolves to feast on their dead bodies. He was thoroughly convinced, with a little help from Tall Thomas and Garret, that he’d not be allowed past the gates of Heaven if any of his body parts were missing.

Donald told him to go bugger himself. Horace accused the other two of being cowards for not fighting the Scots off to begin with. Nigel and Donald stared at him in disbelief before telling him he was a fool, through and through.

It appeared to intensify the Englishmen’s fears whenever the Highlanders began speaking in the Gaelic and so the language was spoken during most of the trek. They derived great pleasure from the Englishmen’s fears.

“I demand to know why you broke into my home!” Horace did not care if his voice carried to the ears of wolves or not. He was incensed. How dare these Scots treat him, an Englishman, in such a barbaric fashion! “I would also like to know where you are taking us and for what purpose!”

Black Richard wasn’t as amused with Horace’s outbursts as the other Highlanders were. With a slight pull of his reins, he brought his horse up to the back of Horace -- who was not having much luck walking through the snow. With a flick of the reins, Black Richard’s horse shoved his nose into Horace’s back, nudging him along. Horace let loose with another string of curses.

Outwardly, the Highlanders were unmoved by his tirade. Inwardly, there was not a one of them that didn’t wish they could cut out his tongue.

Having had his fill of England and its offspring, Black Richard looked at Rowan and spoke in the Gaelic. “The sun will be comin’ up soon,” he said with a nod toward the eastern horizon. “Let’s leave them now.”

Rowan nodded his head in agreement and guided the men into a dense part of the forest. Once he found a place to his liking, he pulled his horse to a stop.

“This is far enough, Sassenachs,” Rowan told them. His voice was menacing and laced with disgust.

The light of the waning moon streamed in through the trees, casting an ominous glow on the men and their surroundings. Horace and his brothers stopped and turned their attentions toward Rowan.

“Who has sent you?” Horace asked. “I demand to know what this is about!”

As much as he tried to sound like a man of means, of good breading and title, Horace fell quite short. Blood had crusted around the indignant man’s nose and lips and the collar of his shirt. Though he was quite tempted to run him through with his sword, Rowan resisted the urge.

Rowan ignored Horace’s demands and made a few of his own. He directed Tall Thomas to remove the ropes that had been tied to Horace and his brothers. Once Tall Thomas had remounted, Rowan spoke to the Englishmen.

“Hand over yer clothes. We’ll let ye keep yer boots.”

Horace’s eyes opened wide, but it wasn’t fear that Rowan saw staring back at him in the moonlight. Try as he might, he wasn’t able to put a word to the expression. It unsettled him nonetheless.

“Why do ye want our clothes?” Nigel asked as he began to shiver from the cold night air as it hit his sweaty skin.

“Don’t get yer hopes up, Sassenach,” Rowan told him. “Hand over yer clothes and we may let ye live. Argue it further and there’ll be naught much of ye left fer the wolves.”

The three men began undressing. Nigel and Donald were visibly distressed. Their teeth chattered and their bodies shivered. However, Horace’s countenance continued to puzzle Rowan. Black Richard picked up on Rowan’s discomfort and glanced at Horace.

After removing their clothes, Nigel and Donald slipped their boots back over their feet and stood rubbing their hands over their arms and shifting from one foot to the other.

Horace was nearly motionless save for his heaving chest. Rowan was unbothered by the hateful glower the man gave him.
 

“The shirt too, Sassenach,” Black Richard instructed Horace.

Horace cast an odd look his way before complying.
 
Slowly, he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Rowan’s first impression of Horace had been correct. The evidence was quite clear once his shirt, which had covered him to mid-thigh, was removed. Apparently, Horace was excited.
Physically
excited.

The man stood proudly with his shoulders thrown back, his chin held high, as if he were quite proud of his soft, pale, flabby belly and his protruding male member, small though it was.

Rowan thought it more resembled a large toe than a man’s organ. Rowan would have hidden his head in shame were he cursed with such an aberration of nature. No wonder the man was such an evil bastard!

“Turn around,” Rowan ordered. Though there was no fear in Horace’s eyes, Nigel’s and Donald’s were filled to tears with it. Shaking from head to toe, the two turned around.

With his eyes closed, Nigel began praying. His lips moved silently while he recited what few prayers he knew. Donald soon joined him. Horace however, remained mute. Until he’d been asked to remove his clothes, he had done nothing but complain and curse at the Scots. Now he looked like a man who anticipated the receipt of some grand and special gift.

“I said
turn around,
Sassenach.” Rowan told him calmly.