She demonstrated by pulling part of the fabric out from under the belt and pulling it up and over Nora’s shoulders. Nora was glad for the warmth and for the fact that she could cover those parts of her that seemed to be spilling out over the top of her dress.
“And,” Eilean said as she began tucking the fabric back under the belt, much to Nora’s displeasure. “If ye get a wee too hot, ye just tuck it back!”
“Now, lets see what we can do with that hair.” Eilean stood with her hands on her hips and studied Nora closely. “’Tis lovely hair, ye have lass. We could do many things with it, to be certain.”
Nora was done being fussed with. “I do thank you Eilean, but I think a braid will suffice. ’Tisn’t like I’m trying to impress anyone nor am I going to see the king,” Nora offered her a warm smile. “I need to tend to my sister now. I worry over her.”
Eilean nodded her head and chewed on her lip. “Aye. Then a simple braid it is.” She retrieved a comb and a bit of leather from the table next to the fireplace and set about combing out Nora’s long, dark tresses. Though her hair was still damp, it did make braiding it a bit easier. She combed out the knots and with quick and limber fingers, she fashioned Nora’s hair into a braid that cascaded down her back where it fell almost to her knees.
By the time Eilean was done, Nora was more than ready to see her sister. Eilean happily escorted Nora out of the women’s solar and back down the long and winding corridors to the room where her sister was being cared for.
They had given Nora and the children a room to themselves, for fear that whatever ailed the little girl might be spread to the rest of the clan. It was a beautiful room, with a large bed that sat opposite a massive stone fireplace. Tall windows with heavy green drapes lined the wall that faced east. Between the windows was a table that held little bottles, combs, and a looking glass.
The walls were adorned with large, beautiful, elegant tapestries. Some depicted men hunting, while others had a precisely feminine and romantic flair. Some showed women in beautiful dresses surrounded by tall, broad shouldered men with swords.
Elise was fast asleep, and as promised, Isobel was with her. Isobel sat on a short stool next to the bed and at the moment, she was pressing cool damp cloths to Elise’s forehead.
Nora entered the room quietly, her skirts rustling as she walked to stand beside Isobel. “How is she?” Nora asked as she brushed back a few of Elise’s strawberry blonde curls.
“She’s been asleep since ye left, but she sleeps peacefully. She has started a nasty cough and I fear her illness has settled in her chest.”
Nora was glad for Isobel’s bluntness. There was no sense in pretending that Elise was fairing any better than she actually was. But still, she wished the news had been better.
“M’lady, I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you and your people are showing us.” Nora knew her words didn’t quite capture the gratitude that she felt toward these kind people.
“Think nothing of it, Nora. We help those that need it.”
“So I have learned, m’lady. But still, I feel compelled to express just how much this means to me. If it weren’t for Wee William, and the other men, I would be dead right now. And were it not for you and your gracious help, I do not know what would become of us.” Of that, she had no doubt.
Isobel stood and took Nora’s hands in her own. “Lass, let’s leave Elise to rest and you can tell me what happened that led you to us.”
Isobel knew that Nora did not want to leave her sister alone and she could not rightly blame her. “Mary will be here in a few moments, with water and tea. Elise will be fine for a little while.”
Nora bent and kissed Elise on her forehead, but the child did not stir. Nora’s chest constricted when her lips touched Elise’s hot skin. “Is there naught we can do for her?” Nora whispered.
“Mary is bringing a tea that will help the fever. And we’ve herbs that will help with the cough. We’ll apply a poultice to her chest that I hope will help the cough. If we’ve gotten to her in time, she should be well in a week or two.”
Two weeks? Nora cringed inwardly at the thought of Elise being this sick for such a long time. The guilt began to creep back in to her heart.
Isobel put an arm around her shoulder and lead her out of the room. “I can no’ promise she will be well, Nora. But I can promise we’ll do all that we can for her.”
“Thank you, m’lady.” Nora choked back her tears and followed Isobel out of the room. They stood just a few steps from the bedchamber and kept the door slightly ajar so they might hear Elise if she needed them.
“Now, tell me, lass,” Isobel said as she patted Nora’s hand. “How exactly did ye come to be in Wee William’s possession?”
Possession? Nora certainly didn’t consider herself Wee William’s possession. Friend, perhaps. Grateful ward, maybe. But his possession? Nay. Nora supposed Isobel’s choice of words had more to do with translating her thoughts from Gaelic to English and decided not to correct her. To do so would be rude.
“I’m not sure where I should begin,” Nora said as she chewed on her bottom lip.
Isobel smiled warmly, her deep green eyes twinkling in the light from the torches. “Mayhap you should begin with how ye came to be married to such a whoreson as Horace Crawford?”
Though she was not used to such harsh language, especially coming from a woman, Nora was growing accustomed to the Scots way of being blunt, to the point, and quite candid. Horace was a mean, spiteful man. Nora supposed Isobel’s choice of words were as good as any to describe her late husband. Besides, she could not deny that she too had often thought the same of him.
Nora began with how her own mother had died during childbirth and when she was two, her father married Nina, the woman whom Nora would always think of fondly as her mum.
“Nina died in childbed as well, giving birth to Elise. I suppose I’ve been more of a mother to her than a sister all these years. To John as well.”
She went on to further explain that the death of her father had been sudden and she had been ill prepared for it. “I believe my father did not push me into any marriage because he needed me to help care for Elise and John. He died two years ago. By that time, any man worth having was already had, so my choices were very limited. It was either marry the old baker or Horace. I chose Horace.” It was a decision she had regretted every day since.
“He had promised me that Elise and John would stay with us. He promised to build a bigger home so that we could all be together. He made many promises, m’lady, and kept none, save for the ones he made after we had wed.”
Isobel raised a curious eyebrow at Nora’s last statement. “What promises were those?”
Nora took a deep breath to steady her nerves. There had never been anyone in her life with whom she confide in or seek advice from. To finally have someone to share her fears with was a bit frightening and she was not sure how much she should reveal.
“I became inconsolable after he sent John and Elise away. I cried until I threw up. I had never been away from them and I knew how harsh life could be at Firth. I knew it would be a horrible life for both of them. Horace promised to beat me until I became the dutiful wife he demanded.”
Isobel did not doubt the threats Horace had made toward Nora. Over the past year, she had learned much about Horace Crawford from Aishlinn’s own accounts of her life as his stepsister. There was no reason to think he would treat a wife differently.
“Why did Horace send them away?” Isobel asked.
Embarrassed and humiliated at the memory of why Horace had sent them away, Nora burned red from head to toe. According to Horace, she had no one to blame but herself. Had she been able to do the things he demanded of her, he wouldn’t have sent the children away.
He had been furious with her on their wedding night when she cried out in pain and had begged him to stop. The following morning, still quite angry with her, Horace had tossed the children into the ox cart and took them to Firth.
Isobel looked confused. “What wifely duties would those be?”
Nora looked at the floor. “The private kind, m’lady. The kind that takes place after dark.”
Clarity dawned in Isobel’s eyes. “I see,” she said. “Now, pray tell how did you fail in that regard?”
Nora cleared her throat and thrust her hands into the pockets of her dress. She pinched her thighs in hopes of controlling the urge to burst into tears.
The whys and wherefores didn’t particularly matter as far as Nora was concerned. “I failed him as a wife.” She cleared her throat. The topic was not an easy one for her to discuss.
“It was all my fault you see, that he became so angry with me that he sent John and Elise away.” The words came rushing out, like water set free from a broken dam. Along with her words came tears. Tears of humiliation, anger, frustration, and sadness.
“Had I been a better wife, had I been able to do what I was supposed to, then he wouldn’t have been so angry and he wouldn’t have sent them away! Because I failed, John and Elise have lived the past year in fear. Hungry, cold, alone, abused and there is no one to blame but me!”
Isobel wrapped her arms around Nora and pulled her in to a warm embrace. “Wheesht lass!” She tried to sooth away Nora’s tears. “I ken that Horace blamed ye for a problem that any other woman would ken was not hers but his. Horace was a cruel man, I ken. His problems were his own, no’ yers!”
Nora seriously doubted that. Had she not cried out in agony every time he made his attempts to join with her, well, things would have been quite different. She was defective, in so many ways.
“Lass, listen to me.” Isobel gave Nora’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Some men have a verra difficult time with matters of an intimate nature. But most? Most have no problems at all. If yer with the right man, the joinin’ can be a most delightful experience!”
Nora blinked twice as she stared at Isobel in utter disbelief. How could any women enjoy such an act? She felt repulsed and terrified all at once. She had a very difficult time believing that any joy or pleasure could be found in what Horace had wanted so desperately to do with her. Nay, it simply wasn’t possible.
“Now, dunna worry yerself over it any more. Ye have the chance to start yer life anew. Mayhap ye can find a man who has no troubles with joinin’. A man who will let ye keep yer brother and sister with ye. There would be plenty of men here, Nora, who would allow you to do just that, I promise ye.” She gave Nora another hug before asking her to continue with how she came to be here, at Castle Gregor.
Explaining how she ended up here was much easier. Nora expressed more than once how kind the men had been, how they had done everything in their power to make the journey here as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.
“I owe each of them a lifetime of gratitude. ’Tis a debt to them that I doubt I shall ever be able to repay.”
Isobel nodded in full agreement. “Aye, the MacDougall men be a kind, honorable lot. But dunna let them fool ye! They can be stubborn, strong willed men, set in their ways and full themselves, and with tempers to match. But once ye learn the way to their hearts, they’re easy enough to live with. There’s no better man to love than a MacDougall. Once he’s admitted his love fer his wife and she to him, well, ye can be assured no greater love can be found.”
Nora wanted to know what love had to do with marriage but was afraid to ask. Where she came from, marriages were often arranged and love had very little, if anything, to do with it. Aye, she knew her parents loved one another, but that was a rare thing, as her father had told her many times. She supposed if she were to ever marry again, the best she could hope for was mutual respect and admiration. To hope for anything else was preposterous.
Though he was quite angry with Wee William and the rest of his men for bringing the Sassenach woman and sick child back to Gregor, Angus McKenna was quite glad that they had been able to find Aishlinn’s treasures.
With the coarse burlap sack filled with priceless trinkets in one hand, he knocked on the door to Aishlinn and Duncan’s cottage with the other. Angus was looking forward to giving his daughter the only tangible memories left by her mother.
“Da!” Aishlinn greeted him with a bright smile and a warm hug. He never grew weary of her smile and the way her vivid green eyes sparkled when she was happy. There were times, like now, when he still found it difficult to believe that they had found each other after all these years.
“Good day to ye, daughter,” he said as he patted her back. “Do ye have a spare moment to spend with a hard, old Highlander?”
Aishlinn’s eyes twinkled brighter as she giggled. “That depends on which Highlander you’re speaking of,” she teased.
Angus smiled and dangled the sack out to his side. “Well, if ye dunna care to have the gifts I bring fer ye…”
Aishlinn sighed heavily. “Da, you really must stop with all the gifts!”
She had chastised him on numerous occasions for what she considered to be frivolity. No matter how many times he tried to explain to her that he had many years of catching up to do, his words often came out awkwardly. He was better at leading his clan, fighting and defending his family and his home, than he was at words of the heart.
“May I come in, lass?”
Aishlinn’s smile faded as she took note of the serious tone of his voice and the look on his face. She stepped aside and followed him into the cottage. It was a bit larger than most cottages, perhaps due to the fact that she was the chief’s daughter. She also happened to be married to Duncan McEwan, Angus’ future successor.
The stone cottage was the only one Aishlinn knew of that boasted real glass in the windows where others used furs to keep out the weather. Angus insisted on the glass and paid for the luxurious expense himself. The little home had stone floors where other cottage floors were made of well-packed dirt.
Last fall, when Angus learned his daughter was with child, he had insisted that Aishlinn and Duncan should move into the main keep. He argued that it was for their own safety, as well as the health and safety of his future grandchild. Kidnapping children and holding them for ransom was as common as heather in the Highlands.
It was in that heated argument that Angus discovered that his daughter had inherited his temper. She adamantly refused to leave the little home that Duncan had built for her. Neither would budge. So Angus did the only sensible thing he could think of at the time; he ordered the original walls that surrounded the keep be enlarged to include Duncan and Aishlinn’s home. Construction of the additional walls would be completed in a few short months.
Aishlinn offered Angus a cup of tea, which he politely declined. He sat in the chair at the head of the table as Aishlinn took the seat next to him.
“Da, you look so serious. Is something wrong?”
Angus smiled and laid the bag on the table. “Nay, nothing be the matter, daughter.” He played with the edges of the sack for a moment. “Do ye remember the day Duncan brought ye to this cottage?”
A warm smile came to her lips. “Aye, I do. It was such a surprise! I thought he’d gone back to training and I was so upset that he wasn’t taking care of himself.”
She thought back to that day when her husband had brought her to their little cottage, blindfolded, teasing her about using the blindfold again during a more intimate time. And he had! Her face burned with embarrassment at remembering that particular night.
“And do ye remember when Wee William and I talked with you by the fireplace?”
Aishlinn searched her memory and came up short. She shook her head and told him no.
“Ye were happy with yer new home, but ye were missin’ something. Some of yer mum’s things, such as her candle sticks and trinket box.” He smiled thoughtfully at her for a moment and waited.
“Aye! Now I remember,” she said. She wondered why he was
asking her about that particular moment when she had mentioned how nice it would be to have some of her mother’s things in her new home. “Da, ’twas just a passing feeling that day and of no import.”
Absentmindedly her hand went to her growing stomach. Her mother had died more than fifteen years ago, but she still thought of her every day. Now that she was married and getting ready to have her first babe, she wished more fervently than ever that her mother was alive to share in all the joy she was feeling.
“Lass, ye wear yer heart on yer sleeve and it is easy to read what yer thinkin’. I suspect ye be thinkin’ of yer mum right now, and missin’ her.”
A faint smile came to her lips. “Aye, that is true, I cannot deny it.”
Angus took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I ken that I canna bring yer mum back to ye lass, but I can give ye something ye hold dear to yer heart.”
Carefully he untied the leather string on the burlap and reached inside. He began pulling out each treasure. With each item he placed upon the table, Aishlinn’s eyes widened with a mixture of astonishment and joy.
“Da!” she exclaimed. She picked up one of the candlesticks and held it to her chest. Her eyes filled with tears and she jumped from her seat. She wasn’t sure if she should scream with glee or cry from surprise and relief. When he was finished, Aishlinn threw her arms around his neck. “I cannot believe ye did this! How did you get them?”
He patted her arm lightly, his anger with Wee William and the others rapidly fading. It was all worth it to see this moment of sheer joy dancing in his daughter’s eyes. Angus’ heart swelled with pride. “Ye can thank Wee William, Rowan, Black Richard and a few others fer this lass. They went through a bit of excitement to get them.”
Her brow furrowed in concern as she took her seat again. “What excitement? Were any of them injured?”
Angus laughed at his daughter’s worry. She tended to put the needs and wellbeing of others ahead of her own. “Well now, none of our own were injured.”
Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series Page 13
