Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  Aishlinn smiled at Nora as she offered yer another handkerchief. “Nay! I tell you the truth, Nora, the men do not find you lacking or unappealing.”

  Nora blinked a few more tears away. “How can you say that? Men jump into bushes when they see me coming. They hide behind closed doors. Please do not try to tell me they’re afraid of my stunning beauty!” She snorted, not caring that it was very unladylike gesture, and blew her nose again.

  “Nora, you don’t quite understand how Highlander men behave. Oh, they’re brave, strong, honorable, and quite kind. But dear, not a one of them owns a bit of common sense when it comes to women! Why, you should have seen Duncan the night we had musicians here, and the dance. Why, he nearly had an apoplexy when the other men danced with me!” Aishlinn laughed at the memory. Duncan had been so angry and jealous that night, that his face had turned dark red and he actually growled at a young lad who had the audacity to ask her to dance.

  “You are beautiful, Nora. And the men agree, I’m sure of it.”

  Nora moaned. “Then why are they acting this way?”

  “I suspect one of the men, and I’m not sure who it might be, has claimed you for his own. Once a Highlander has claimed you, the others back off. Its akin to the biggest bull in the paddock letting it be known that a certain cow is his.”

  Tears filled Nora’s eyes again. “You’re saying I’m a cow?” she let her head fall to the table. A cow.

  Aishlinn laughed. “Poor choice of words. It’s more like a proud peacock strutting around, barking and crying to all who will listen, that he’s laying claim to a comely young peahen.”

  Nora thought long and hard for several moments, trying to piece together what Aishlinn meant. “So, you’re saying that one of the men does want me, and the other men are staying away out of fear?”

  “Aye,” Aishlinn said as she patted Nora’s hand. “That is exactly what I am saying.”

  “But who? And why hasn’t he told me?”

  Aishlinn smiled thoughtfully. “Because, dear, Highlander men do not own a bit of common sense when it comes to women. He may be too afraid, too stubborn, and too stupid yet, to let you know. I’m leaning more toward stupid.” She began pouring each of them another cup of tea.

  Nora giggled as she was beginning to feel better about the entire situation. “So do I just wait until whoever it is, is ready to let me know his intentions?”

  Aishlinn stopped mid-pour. “Nay! Ye could wait years for that to happen!” She shook her head, finished pouring the tea and set the pot down.

  “I say we will give it a day or two. If he still has not let you know who he is, then we shall force his hand.”

  Nora raised an eyebrow. “How will we do that?”

  A devilish smile came to Aishlinn’s lips. “We’ll draw him out and we’ll have my father help.”

  Nora took a sip of tea and admittedly she was beginning to feel better. There was something in Aishlinn’s devious smile and twinkling eyes that made Nora quite glad she was on her side.

  Fifteen

  After bringing Nora in off the ledge on which her esteem and sanity seemed to teeter precariously, Aishlinn shared her suspicions with her husband. He confirmed every one of them. There was only one man in all the clan who could induce such fear into the hearts of other men. Two days had passed since Nora had come to Aishlinn’s home and the fool still hadn’t admitted how he felt.

  So now Aishlinn stood outside Wee William’s cottage. She could see him rumbling around inside, for he had yet to hang the door. He was mumbling to himself, and he sounded quite perturbed. Aishlinn supposed someone less courageous, or perhaps less foolish, would have turned and walked away. She was no about to.

  He was hammering hooks around the large window on the opposite side of the cottage. They would later be used to hang furs to keep out the cold winter air. He hammered and mumbled away with his back turned from the doorway.

  “Wee William!” She said using her most cheerful voice.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. That was not like him to be lost in his own thoughts to the point of distraction. He cursed under his breath as he hit his thumb with the hammer. “Damn!” he shouted as he turned to face her, dropping the hammer to the stone floor. He began shaking his hand as if doing so would somehow make the pain leave at a more rapid pace.

  Aishlinn stood a bit taller. She was not as afraid of Wee William as most others were. He was her friend, and she knew he would never do anything to hurt her.

  “I’m so very sorry, Wee William!” she said as she entered the cottage. “You haven’t a door to knock on yet.”

  “What are ye doin’ here?” He sounded quite gruff, and looked even angrier. This was not how Aishlinn was used to seeing him. He bent down and picked up the hammer and resumed his work.

  She tilted her head slightly. “My apologies,” she said flatly. “I was merely bringing you a few things for your new home.”

  “I’m afraid I’m in no mood for company this day, Aishlinn. Ye can put whatever it is ye brought on the table.”

  No, this was definitely not the Wee William she was used to. Part of her was tempted to give him a good tongue-lashing but she decided that perhaps a more subtle approach would be more effective. Gently, she set her basket on the table.

  “Oh!” She cried out, grabbing her stomach.

  Wee William spun, dropped the hammer and raced to her. “Good God woman! Do no’ tell me it be yer time!” he looked absolutely terrified. That was much better than sullen and angry.

  Aishlinn grimaced, and bent over. “Nay, I do not think so,” she said breathlessly. “But sometimes, the babe kicks so hard it feels as though he’s trying to climb his way out!”

  Wee William let out a sigh of relief as he guided her to the bench next to the trestle table. “Sit lass,” he told her. “What can I do? Do ye need me to fetch Isobel or Duncan?” His voice was filled with concern. Aishlinn also noted a bit of fear in it. She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Nay,” she said as she took a deep breath. “Just let me rest a while. I do not want to keep you from your work. I’ll just sit here, quietly.”

  Wee William stood and studied her for a long moment, with his hands on either side of her as if he were afraid she’d keel over at any moment. “Are ye sure lass?”

  “Aye, I’m sure. Really, this happens from time to time.”

  Ever so slowly he began to back away. The thought of Aishlinn giving birth on his kitchen floor nearly made him faint. He sat down on the bench opposite her. She noticed he looked quite pale. It served him right for being so rude.

  “Mayhap a spot of tea?” Aishlinn asked him.

  Wee William nodded his head. “That sounds good. But I’m afraid I have no’ stocked me larder yet. The only thing I have here is a bit of the chief’s best and a cask of ale.”

  Just what every bachelor should have, Aishlinn thought.

  “Well, I happen to have brought you some!” She said as she lifted the cloth off the basket and pulled out a small tin of tea. “Do you have a kettle?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nay, lass.”

  It didn’t matter. She was on a mission. “That’s quite all right. You can save it for later.”

  The color was finally beginning to return to his cheeks, the hard lines of his face softening. Aishlinn hoped his mood had improved.

  “I’m really sorry to have stopped by unannounced, William. But I’ve heard what a nice home you’re building for your eventual retirement. I simply could not resist. I hope you’ll forgive me.” She put on her best sweet smile, the one that usually worked best on her father and Duncan. She hoped it would have the same success with Wee William.

  He let out a long breath and finally smiled. “Nay, lass. ’Tis quite all right.”

  “I like the tall ceilings,” she offered.

  He continued to smile. “Aye, some might take it as a bit ostentatious, but I find me head and low ceilings do no’ necessarily get along well.”<
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  Aishlinn giggled and patted his hand. “I suppose not,” she said as she looked around the room. It was indeed a fine cottage. The floors and walls were made of stone. It boasted a very large fireplace that stood to her immediate left. She assumed it was the mirror image of her own home, the one that Wee William had helped Duncan to build. But she could see from the outside that it was in fact much bigger.

  “Could you give me a tour?”

  “Aye, I could, if yer sure ye be up to it.”

  “I am! Really, just a twinge.” She would feel no guilt for lying. She was on a mission.

  He nodded his head and stood. “Well, ye be in the kitchen and eatin’ area right now,” he said as he spread his arm out with a flourish.

  “Thank you for pointing that out,” Aishlinn teased as she walked toward a doorway to her right. “What is in here?” She said, as she walked through it, not waiting for his answer. She was in a small hallway with two doors leading off of it.

  She opened one of the doors and stepped inside. There was a small fireplace on the wall the separated the rooms.

  “How very nice!” She exclaimed. “You have a study!” She knew very well it was a bedroom, but decided it best to play along for now.

  Wee William stood in the hallway, looking rather relieved. “Aye,” he said quietly. “A study.”

  Aishlinn smiled brightly. “Aye, when you are aulder, you’ll appreciate a room like this. One filled with books and mementos of your journeys.” She slipped back into the hallway and on to the next room.

  “My, my, my William! Ye’ve thought of everything! I would assume this is to be a spare room, for when auld friends visit?”

  He nodded his head and ran his tongue around his cheek. “Aye, that is what it is lass.”

  Aishlinn left that room, closing the door behind her and went back into the kitchen with Wee William following slowly behind her. “‘Tis a very nice house William!” She opened the door just off the kitchen.

  “Oh! How very nice! Every man should have a large, comfortable bedchamber like this,” she said as entered and stood at the foot of the bed. It sat along the wall, flanked on either side by small tables. On the opposite wall was a large fireplace and placed in front of that were two chairs.

  She looked back at the bed. It was indeed quite large, larger than one man would need all to himself. But then again, Wee William was not of average height or build. She supposed he did need a bed of this size.

  He was standing in the doorway watching her very closely. He’d grown uncomfortable as she went from room to room. He wasn’t certain yet if she had an ulterior motive by coming here. He was in no mood for lectures.

  Aishlinn let out a happy sigh. “’Tis a grand home, Wee William. I am sure, when the time comes for you to hang up your sword, you’ll be quite happy here.”

  He remained quiet, waiting for her to begin nagging him like everyone else had been doing of late.

  “I do thank you for the tour,” she said as she slipped by him and went back into the kitchen.

  She looked around the room once again. “Yes, I think you’ll be quite happy here. It isn’t far from Duncan and me. I do hope our children won’t be a bother to you. I mean, later on, when you’re ready to retire. You’ll be a bachelor after all. I hear that older men like their quiet and solitude. I think you’ll have that here, William, yes I do. All this room, the wide-open spaces, the solitude. Do you suspect you might write a book about your life? Your travels, battles, journeys?”

  Wee William blinked, cocked his head to one side, and looked very confused. “Lass, what are ye tryin’ to get at?”

  Aishlinn feigned ignorance. “When you retire. Ye’ll be all alone in this great big home. What do you plan to do with all your free time? I would suspect you’d write a book about your life.”

  He shook his head. “No one would want to read a story about my life, lass.” Mayhap pregnancy had addled her mind.

  “Oh, I think people would be interested in your story Wee William,” she told him softly. “You have much to write about. Battles you fought and won, stories of brawls and fights over lasses, your childhood, your life here.”

  He listened intently, waiting for the lecture to begin. He could sense she was building up to something and he had a good idea what it was. He remained quiet, deciding to let her broach the subject she was pretending not to want to talk about.

  She took a deep breath, drew her shawl around her shoulders and headed for the doorway. “If you did write your story, William, would there be any regrets?”

  His brow creased, unsure of what she meant. “Regrets?”

  She stood in the doorway, ready to leave. “Aye, regrets. Battles you did not fight, countries you did not visit.”

  He remained silent.

  “Mayhap, mayhap not, I suppose. It would be good to live a long life with no regrets. I have only one, and that is that I was not raised here with my father. But I am very glad to be here, now.” She sounded a bit melancholy. “Aye, I suppose everything happens at the right time and for the right reason. Still, I wonder, William. At the end of your life, will you have any regrets?”

  He refused to answer her question. Instead, he leaned against the cold mantle of the fireplace and listened. He knew she would eventually get around to speaking of Nora.

  “We all know you’ve sworn there isn’t a woman in all the world worth shaving your beard for. But still, I wonder, if at the end of your long, full life of bachelorhood, will you regret not having someone to share it with? Will you regret not professing your love to someone, at least once? Will you regret filling up this big home with books and things, instead of love, children, and laughter?”

  Wee William’s eyes were focused on the floor. He hadn’t given a thought to regrets, until now.

  “’Tis a pity, really. You have such a big heart, William. You have so much to offer someone.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Did you know that Angus has called all the men together? They’re to meet in the grand gathering room within the hour. He’s going to pick a husband for Nora today.”

  He bolted upright, tried to speak, but fear lodged the words in his throat.

  “That really is too bad that he’s going to pick someone for her. I know for a fact, that her heart belongs to someone. Someone who has a very special place in my own heart. Whenever she speaks his name, her eyes light up and she smiles. She doesn’t realize it though, and that is such a pity. But I suppose she’ll make whomever Angus picks, a very good wife. She’ll have his bairns, build a life with him, and grow auld with him. But she’ll never love him, quite the way she loves you, and that is such a pity.”

  She turned around, took a small step out of the cottage. Over her shoulder, she spoke again. “I hope William, that you do not regret this day. You may return the basket later.”

  She left him alone then, to think. She hurried along the pathway that led to the castle. Along the way, she prayed that Wee William would come to his senses and that she had somehow gotten through to him. If her words did not work, there was always plan B. But that involved yards and yards of rope, a sleeping potion, and bribing the priest. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  The grand gathering room was filled to standing room only with single men of all ages gathered at Angus’ order. Rowan, Black Richard, Daniel, and David stood together at the front of the room, each craning their necks in hope that Wee William would soon appear.

  Angus sat in a tall chair in the center of the dais, with his wife, Isobel to his left and Nora to his right. His daughters, Aishlinn and Bree, sat directly behind Nora, offering their moral support to the dispirited looking lass. Duncan was pacing in front of him, waiting anxiously for the signal that the man of the hour was approaching.

  The clan chief was enjoying himself immensely. He had twenty groats wagered in favor of Wee William appearing and another ten that said he’d fight any man in the room who so much as cast an improper glance toward Nora.

  The m
en had all been informed, much to their relief, that a husband wouldn’t actually be chosen for Nora this day. It was all a ruse to get Wee William to finally admit he had feelings for Nora. And if that didn’t work, there was always the plan B that Duncan and Rowan had devised. Their money was riding on the implementation of plan B.

  Rowan had lost all faith in his friend, convinced he was that Wee William was far too afraid to voluntarily express his desire to marry Nora. He actually looked forward to hogtying the fool and dragging him to the alter. Frankly, Duncan and Black Richard hoped the man wouldn’t show for the mere fact that they, too, wanted to see how many ropes it would take to bind Wee William.

  The only one in the room not aware of the ruse was Nora. She looked utterly deflated as she sat in her dark green gown, her hair plated into a long braid. Aishlinn had been so certain that whoever he was, as she’d come to referring to the mystery man, who had instilled so much fear into the other men, would be forced to declare for her once he learned that Angus was going to pick someone this day. They’d been in the gathering room for more than half an hour and not one man had yet to step forward.

  Elise and John sat at one of the long tables with a group of other children. Whereas Elise was happily chatting away, excited that Nora would soon be receiving a good husband, John was not as thrilled. He was doing his best to adjust to his new life, but Nora felt there was still a part of his heart that longed to return to England.

  Nora quietly watched her brother and sister as she waited for this day to finally be done with. Angus had told her that she could turn down any man he might choose for her. While that brought her a good sense of relief, she still felt it necessary to move forward with her decision. If whoever he is, did not have the courage to claim her, then so be it.

  She had not slept well last night. Her thoughts were consumed with wondering who the mystery man might be and what would happen this day.

  Secretly, she held on to the hope that it was Wee William. Her feelings for him had not waned, even though she had not seen him in days. She missed the meals they had taken together when the children were sick. She missed their quiet talks. She missed him.