He aimed a dry stare at the woman. Of course she wished him to speak to Fraser so that he’d receive the brunt of the man’s anger. Her dark, pleading gaze met his and he puffed out an exasperated sigh. By the Saints, females and their damned looks.
“Fine,” he barked out. “If I speak to Fraser, then you must speak to my cousin. And soon. Agreed?” He extended his hand for a shake.
She slipped her small hand in his. “Agreed.”
He offered the lass an encouraging grin. “Everything shall be fine, Nora. Between Liam, Fraser and me, you do not have to fret over Will.”
The strained smile she proffered spoke of her misgivings.
It made little difference to him. Once his cousin heard her tale, the lass would soon learn the power of MacGregor determination.
Chapter Seventeen
Excruciating pain radiated from the back of Liam’s skull, dragging him into awareness. The last thing he remembered was the toss from his gelding, then the stiff landing on the stable’s dirt floor. Hell, his poor head could not bear much more abuse. At this rate, another hard knock just might addle his damned mind for good.
He opened his eyes to focus on the sturdy crossbeams and rafters overhead. Slowly turning his head to the side, he blinked at the tray of fare on the table beside the bed. His gaze shifted to the lass curled up in the chair a few feet away.
With her hand tucked beneath her chin and her knees raised to her chest, Nora had fallen into a sound slumber. The sight of her frowning face, even in the peace of sleep, warmed his insides and brought a smile to his lips. Anxious to touch her soft skin, he attempted to sit upright but his back protested with a sharp jab of pain down the length of his spine. The discomfort tugged a deep, guttural groan from him which roused Nora.
Dropping her feet to the floorboards, she stretched her arms while her sleepy gaze spanned a quick glance over him from head to toe. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
Despite the smarting ache in his head and back, he smiled at the huskiness in her voice. Aye, he needed plenty. The lass beside him in bed would suffice. If for naught else than to feel the warm press of her soft body next to his.
Though, he chose a tamer response. “No worries. I’m fine. Just a twinge in my back.”
With concern creasing her features, she sat forward on the edge of the seat and motioned to the tray. “Your mother thought you might wish a bite to eat when you awoke.”
“Tempting, but nay. Thank you.” Wincing from the throbbing pain in his back, he eased down onto the mattress with a grunt.
“Are you certain you are all right, Liam? Is there naught I can do?”
“Nay, lass, but I think I shall lie here a bit longer.”
Nora gripped the chair arms to rise but hesitated. “I should leave so that you might rest. If you wish…”
“Nay,” he blurted in a near shout before softening his tone. The last thing he wished was for her to leave him. “Will you not stay a bit longer?”
Biting her lip, she glanced over her shoulder to the window where the midafternoon sun streamed inside, warming the chamber. Sitting taller, she exclaimed, “Saints, I’ve lingered here far longer than I intended. There’s much I must do for the feast on the morrow.”
Liam studied her as she floundered with uncertainty. Mayhap, ’twas amiss of him to guilt the lass into staying at his side, but he suffered no such compunction. “You would leave me alone in such a condition?”
Her worried gaze passed another thorough sweep over him from head to toe. “Of course I would not.”
“You’re welcome to conduct a closer examination,” he teased, hoping to ease her concern. He lifted the furs, though he still wore the clothes he’d donned that morn, no doubt to his lass’ relief.
Nora emitted a faint snort. “Do you have to be a lecher all the time?”
He’d admit to the offense before Nora, a fact he was not proud of. But now… “Only with you, lass.”
In truth, he meant the words wholeheartedly.
’Twas strange but he’d spent most of his days uncertain of love; sure he’d never find a woman to suit him. And yet, there every comely, frowning inch of her sat, fingering a loose thread along her sleeve. The pair of them shared little in common, their personalities different in every way, but none of that mattered in the slightest. Naught could diminish the feelings his lass awakened in him. For once, he’d never been more confident of anything in his life.
Gingerly, he shifted onto his side to face her. “So, is my gelding safe and sound?”
Her mouth parted in surprise. She peered at him as if he were truly addled in the head. “You might’ve died, but you’re more worried about a horse?”
“Because he’s an excellent beast,” he defended. “Docile and sweet, most times. ’Tis why I knew something was amiss with him.”
She glanced away, her creased brow deepening. “Your cousin found burs beneath the saddle cover.”
“What?” He bolted upright, bellowing at the jagged pain that ripped through his back.
Nora sprang to her feet, gripping his shoulder to help him lie flat on his sore back. “Saints, Liam, what are you doing? Have a care, would you? You might harm yourself more.”
In spite of his discomfort, he offered a shaky smile to ease her alarm. “See, you do care.”
Tucking the furs around him, she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. “I think you’ve taken one too many knocks to the head.”
“You wound me, lass.”
“You know I care for you.” She heaved a sigh and settled on the edge of the chair once more. Her knee shook in a nervous motion which drew his full attention. “Liam…”
Concern weighed heavy on her features. Swallowing hard, she hesitated long enough that sweat broke across his brow.
“There are things I must tell you, things you should know. Details of my and Will’s past.”
Her unsettled demeanor set him on edge. A sick sense of foreboding overshadowed the pain in his head and back. His heart thumped a pace swifter. Would she speak of the information Will refused to relinquish?
Liam breeched the strained quiet in the chamber. “You can tell me anything, Nora. You must know that by now.”
“I suspected the burs,” she admitted in a hushed tone.
His mouth flapped opened and closed twice before he sputtered out, “What? How?”
“’Tis how Will’s leg was injured. Burs were placed beneath his saddle causing the horse to unseat him.”
For a long moment, Liam remained speechless while he attempted to absorb her words. Mayhap, the latest knock to his head had, in fact, slowed his mind because he struggled to understand precisely what Nora was telling him. Was she suggesting the two incidents were related?
“Who would do such a thing?”
Peering into her expressive eyes, he watched her battle with indecision. He held his tongue and silently urged the lass to trust him. Silence spanned between them, but he held fast, willing her to open her appealing mouth.
At last, Nora’s lips parted and he almost shouted with glee. That is, until a rap at the door rang out in the still chamber. Glancing from his lass to the door, he considered ignoring it altogether, but then another, louder knock followed.
“Damn it,” he muttered, vexed by the wretched timing.
Before he called out enter, the door opened, and his mother poked her head inside.
“Ah, you’re awake.” She beamed at him and strode inside with Fraser and Calum funneling in after her.
His mother marched straight to his bedside, grasped his face between her hands, and tilted his head toward the splinters of daylight spilling through the window. “Move your eyes from side to side, lad.”
Irritated, he tried to jerk his pounding head free, but she squished his cheeks together and raised her blonde brows in warning. Anxious for her to leave him be, he peered left then right merely to appease the blasted woman.
“There’s a good lad.” She eased her grip an
d patted his jaw to his ever-loving mercy.
Embarrassed by his mother’s ministrations, he peeked at Nora who’d ducked her head and pressed her lips together in a firm line to stifle her grin.
“Just wait till you’re feeling sickly,” he muttered to her.
Not that he wished her ill, but let the woman develop a sniffle or faint cough, and his mother would have the lass slathered in salve, buried beneath a pile of furs, and stuffing her foul-smelling vegetable broth down Nora’s throat.
Nora gained her legs and headed toward the entrance. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave so that you all might spend time with Liam.”
“’Tis no need to rush off, dear.” His mother straightened from smoothing the furs over the foot of the bed.
“Thank you, my lady, but there’s much I must do before the feast on the morrow. Good day, Laird Fraser, Laird MacGregor.”
The two men nodded and granted polite smiles. Calum grabbed the latch, opening the door for her.
Wincing, Liam shifted upright onto his elbows. “Nora, wait.”
Damn, he did not wish her to leave. What had she attempted to tell him that was so troubling?
Pausing in the doorway, she peered over her shoulder. “We’ll speak later, Liam. Eat something and rest more. The clan will expect to see you at the feast on the morrow.” With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she added, “Mayhap, your mother could make a poultice to soothe the pain in your back.”
“What’s this? You should’ve told me your back pained you,” his mother scolded, pressing her hands to her hips before tossing them in the air in frustration.
Liam narrowed his eyes at Nora as she slipped from the chamber. Just before Calum closed the door, the blasted lass winked at him. He snorted and dropped flat on his back on the bed. Somehow, he imagined life with Nora would never grow dull or tedious. Foresight told him the woman would keep him on his toes at all times.
While his mother busied herself rummaging through her bag of medicinals near the hearth, Calum sauntered across the chamber and dropped down in Nora’s vacated seat. Fraser, on the other hand, strode to the edge of the bed. Stroking that bushy, overgrown, red beard of his, the older man glowered at Liam.
“What are your intentions with Nora?”
The gruff question caught Liam unaware. He lifted his brows, unsure why the old boar cared and doubly surprised the man even noticed. Was it any wonder he spoke his mind most of the time? Between his prying, meddlesome kin, ’twas no use endeavoring to conceal anything.
“I assure you, my intentions are pure.”
“Aye, do not fret, Fraser,” his cousin added. “He intends to wed the lass.”
“What?” Elena’s shout rang out in the chamber, followed by the clatter of her medicinal bag falling to the floor. She spun to face him, her face a bright ray of startled surprise. Her slippered feet pitter-pattered over the timber boards as she rushed to his bedside. “Is this true?”
He craned his neck to glare at Calum. Pleased with himself, his cousin’s smug grin deepened.
“Just wait. You’ll pay for that,” he muttered to Calum.
His blasted kin shook with quiet laughter. Liam shifted his gaze to his mother who looked ready to climb onto the bed and demand an answer from him.
With three of them in the bedchamber, he was outnumbered. Expelling a deep sigh, he admitted, “Aye, that is my intent.”
“By the Saints, I cannot believe it!” A swift mix of shock, relief, and happiness crossed her features in the blink of an eye. “Oh, Hammish.”
She rushed to her husband, latching on to his forearm. “I cannot wait to tell Arabella and Mairi.”
Bubbling with excitement, his mother lifted the hem of her gown and bolted for the door.
“Wait just a damned minute,” Liam bellowed after her.
Saints, that was the last blasted thing he needed.
She pivoted with an affronted scowl. “Do not dare take that tone with me.”
“Forgive me, but please, for the love of all that’s holy, allow me to speak to the lass first.” His pointed stare shifted from her to Fraser. “Everyone present in this chamber remembers last fall with Arabella.”
The old man had the good grace to duck his head with a sheepish smile.
Shoulders slumping, Elena grunted. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Soon, you can tell everyone under the sun. But first, give me a few days to broach the subject with Nora,” he suggested.
Appeased, her grin reemerged and she lifted her hands in surrender. “I vow I shall not speak a word of it.”
’Twas an oath he believed. If he trusted anyone in the chamber with his secret, ’twas his mother. Had she not already proven she’d endure years of anguish and regret merely in the name of guarding a secret?
“I need to fetch fresh linens to make a poultice for your back.” She pointed a finger at him. “Prepare to tell me more when I return.” She slipped from the chamber.
As soon as the door shut, he turned an exasperated glare on Calum. “Why the devil did you tell her?”
His cousin shrugged. “You cannot change your mind now.”
“I have no damned intention of doing so,” he ground out. Shoving aside his irritation, he changed subjects. “Nora mentioned the burs.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “’Twas her suggestion I check beneath the saddle.”
“What’s this about burs?” Fraser moved in closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruddy, aging features darkened with a glower.
“Four were placed beneath his saddle coverlet which is why the beast threw him.”
“What the devil?” the old laird bellowed in outrage.
“That’s twice now, Fraser,” Calum stated.
“I know,” the older man muttered. He propped his hands on his knees and a frown tugged at his mouth.
Eager to question his cousin, Liam lifted onto his elbows. “What else did Nora speak of?”
“You’ll have to get the tale from the lass.”
“What? Why do you not simply tell me now?”
Calum sighed. “Look, Liam, I struck a bargain with Nora. If I spoke to him”—he waved a hand at Fraser—“then she must speak to you.”
For a moment, he gaped at his cousin. “You truly will not say?”
Shaking his head, Calum leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Well then, have you spoken to him?” Annoyed, he jerked his head at Fraser.
“Briefly,” the older man said. “Your mother does not need to hear everything.”
Calum shifted in his seat, his stare secured on Fraser. “Both of you could’ve been killed. By the Saints, ’tis by the sheer grace of God neither of you were. Listen, I know ’tis not a possibility you wish to consider but please, for the sake of you and your clan, listen to us. Look to Kenneth as the source to your problems.”
Chapter Eighteen
Shivering from the chill in the night air, Nora crossed her arms over her bent knees and propped her chin on her wrists. With the moon perched high in the sky, surrounded by hundreds of twinkling stars, she sat atop of the grassy hill with a clear view of the festivities on the village green below.
The harmonious melody of lutes and lyres blended with boisterous laughter as clan members twirled and danced around the blazing bonfires in merriment. Lanterns lit the garland-lined trestle tables covered with dozens of half-eaten platters of fare. The light, cool breeze carried scents of roasted pork, mutton, and small game roasting over the spits.
After she’d spoken her greetings and swiped a piece of Doris’ oatmeal cake and a handful of berry tarts, she left her brother conversing with his friend, David, and sought out a bit of solitude. Content to spy the merriment from her perch atop the knoll, she allowed a grin at the joyous scene.
She’d caught a brief glimpse of Liam escorting Laird and Lady Fraser to the clearing earlier in the night. The rousing cheers grew deafening when the laird, on solid feet and in good spirits, made
his appearance with his lady wife on his arm. The older man’s arrival set the good-natured mood for the eve. Alas, even surrounded by such merry glee, her mind continued to stray to the discovery beneath Liam’s saddle the day before.
Nora failed to share the information she’d learned with Will, instead, choosing to wait until after the feast. He’d looked forward to the harvest banquet and she refused to spoil his eve. Her shoulders could carry the burden for another night. Afterward, she would speak to her brother.
Then—somehow, some way—she’d muster the courage to speak to Liam. She could no more explain why the thought of speaking to him filled her with dread than she could unravel why her uncle was a traitorous arse of the utmost degree.
Whispers of movement over Nora’s shoulder caught her notice. She peered left just as Liam eased down to sit side by side with her in the grass.
“Saints, you’re forever sneaking around. You might tread with a heavier foot,” she scolded.
He chuckled. “What if I whistled as I approached? Would that help?”
Rolling her eyes, she ignored the nervous flutter in her belly. “’Tis a start, I suppose.”
Liam tilted closer, their shoulders rubbing. The warmth from his solid frame permeated her side, compelling her to lean into him, but she tamped down the urge.
He slanted his head to peer at her. “Why are you not below enjoying the festivities with everyone else?”
She shifted to rest her cheek on her wrist, meeting his stare. “I could ask you the same.”
Despite the shadows of night, moonlight shone in his handsome eyes, reminding her of a pair of stars glittering in the dark sky.
“I did not see you below to ask for my dance.”
A dance? ’Twas the last thing on her troubled mind. “What of your back?”
“’Tis much better after my mother’s poultice.” He bumped her shoulder. “Mayhap now, you might tell me what you wished before my kin interrupted.”
The request left her scrambling with uncertainty. The bargain she’d struck with his cousin resided in the forefront of her mind but, Saints, she’d no desire to speak of such matters. Not that instant. Not when his eyes resembled shining twin gemstones. ’Twas no simple feat explaining to the man she adored that her uncle sought to harm him and his father. And even harder to confess she’d reserved her suspicions from the beginning when she should’ve spoken of them promptly after Fraser’s poisoning. Instead, she shoved aside her apprehension and listened to her brother’s suggestion, even when she’d known better.
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