Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (20 page)

“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.”

Aishlinn studied him closely for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, none of our own?”

Angus pushed the trinket box toward Aishlinn. “‘Tis nothin’ to worry over. Let’s just say that Horace and his brothers finally got what they were deservin’ of.”

“What does that mean?” She may very well have hated her step-brothers for all they had done to her over the years, and she may at one time have wished them all to go to the devil. But that didn’t mean she would want any real harm to come to them.

“I dunna want ye to worry over it, Aishlinn.” His voice was firm, his jaw set. Not knowing if Horace and his brothers lived still, Angus did not see the need to share what may or may not have happened.

Aishlinn ran her fingers over the top of the pewter trinket box for a few moments. She was afraid to open it for fear the things she knew
should
be in it may have been lost. She eyed her father closely. They may have only known each other for less than a year, but she had learned early on that once Angus McKenna’s mind was made up, there was no changing it.

“Are ye goin’ to look inside the box, Aishlinn?” he asked her, his voice low and filled with compassion.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to or not. Aye, the box itself was a beautiful piece of pewter craftsmanship. The lid was intricately carved, depicting a woman holding a babe in swaddling clothes.
 
Laiden’s stepfather, a man Aishlinn had never met, had died before she was born. He had given the box to her mother when she was five and ten.

The box, along with its contents, was a secret, her mother had explained. ’Twas a secret for just the two of them and Aishlinn had managed, after all these years, to keep her word.

The not knowing was unbearable. Taking a deep breath, Aishlinn closed her eyes and carefully lifted the lid.

Angus watched her closely, his lips pursed together as he waited. The joy alight in her eyes and on her face was indescribable.
Aye,
he thought to himself.
It was worth this.

She bit at her bottom lip as tears began to blur her vision. She sat motionless for a time, as a combination of relief and bittersweet memories washed over her. Delicately, she touched each item as she fought to maintain some semblance of control.

They were silly things, nothing of any true value to anyone but Aishlinn.

There was a lock of Laiden’s hair braided with a lock of Aishlinn’s. She took it out and held it to her lips as her stomach tightened ever so slightly. No amount of gold or silver in the world would ever be as valuable as these strands of hair tied together with a tiny piece of string.

Aishlinn knew the tiny locks no longer held the scent of her mother. Instead, they smelled of time passed and faded memories. But for a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe that she could detect just the slightest hint of lilac, her mother’s favorite flower.

After a few moments, she carefully placed the locks of hair on the table before pulling out a small bundle of dried flowers. Tiny violets, bluebells, and a sprig of lilac, once vibrant with color and life, had turned brown with the passing of time. Aishlinn had picked those flowers the spring after her mother died and had placed them inside the box. Just a little girl at the time, it made her feel more grown up and less afraid knowing she was now in charge of keeping the secret box safe.

Brock didn’t know about the box, Laiden had explained. When Aishlinn had asked her mother
why,
Laiden told her that men sometimes didn’t understand matters of the heart and often times considered such things to be frivolous.
 
Aishlinn had since learned that not all men were cold-hearted like her stepfather and stepbrothers.

Duncan had proven to her that men could be kind and gentle. While they might not understand why a woman thinks or feels the way she does over some things, men like Duncan appreciated the finer complexities of the opposite sex. Aishlinn’s feelings and happiness were all that mattered to him.

A tiny silver band was the next memento to be brought out. Aishlinn held the ring between her index finger and thumb for a few moments, wondering again why her mother held it in such high regard as to place it inside the box.
 
She did not know the story behind the ring; she only knew that her mother treasured it.

Aishlinn placed the ring next to the locks of hair and flowers. There was one last item, one that she had forgotten about, that lay in the bottom of the box. She had never known the importance of that bit of fabric, until she saw it now.
Now,
she knew why it was here, inside the pewter box of secrets.

It was a tiny swatch of MacDougall plaid.

Aishlinn held it up and looked at her father. Angus McKenna -- a tall, braw, courageous, warrior, the leader of more than four hundred clan members -- sat with tears streaming down his face.

Laiden had kept her promise. She never forgot.

Ten

N
ora stayed by Elise’s side the remainder of the evening. John argued his desire to stay with her as well, but Nora refused to allow it. She wanted him to stay as far away from Elise as possible so that he wouldn’t come down with same ailment. It was only after Daniel and David promised to give him a tour of the castle and the battlements on the morrow that he agreed. Reluctantly, he let Daniel and David take him to the gathering room for the evening meal.

Wee William appeared soon after with a tray filled with all manner of succulent foods.
 
“Ye must eat, to keep yer strength up, Nora.”

He put the tray down on the end of the bed and grabbed a chair to sit next to Nora. “I was no’ sure what ye’d like, so I brought a bit of everything.”

Nora hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the aroma of the food hit her nostrils. Her mouth watered instantly and her stomach growled at the sight of the meats, breads, fruits and vegetables.

Wee William balanced the tray on his knees while Nora grabbed a chicken leg and began devouring it. “Thank you, William!” she said in between bites. “This is delicious!”

Wee William chuckled, simply enjoying the passionate way in which she was eating. She had a chicken leg in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other and was quickly devouring both. Her lips and fingers were covered in grease and she ate without restraint.

He and his men had eaten in similar fashion earlier, for it had been weeks since any of them had eaten a decent meal. He liked the fact that she wasn’t pretending not to be hungry, nor was she hell bent on being ladylike. She was famished and wasn’t about to pretend otherwise.

In between bites of lamb and potatoes, she thanked him again. “I will forever be in your debt, William,” she told him before shoving another bite of potatoes into her mouth. “What you’ve done for me, for John and Elise,” she stopped long enough to take a drink of ale to wash down her food. “I do not know of anyone else who would have done what you have done.”

Wee William smiled, fascinated with the passion she was bestowing upon her dinner. “’Twas nothing, lass.” He wondered what other things she might attack with similar passion.

“Nay! It
was
very much
something
, William!” She took another gulp of ale and quickly followed up with attacking the leeks. “I don’t think you understand.”

He remained quiet, enjoying the passionate way she attacked her food. After she finished the leeks, she began to slow down, taking more time to enjoy the actual taste of the food. When she took her first bite of the sweet cake, she closed her eyes slowly and moaned with delight. “Oh, that is soooo good!” She let each word out slowly, and had the very pleased look of a woman experiencing something decadent, nearly sinful. He swallowed hard and breathed in through his nose.

Wee William’s mind filled with an image of her repeating those words again, but after a long, languid kiss. Perhaps tucked under a warm fur in their bed in their cottage while a fire burned low in the corner. He’d start with slow, purposeful kisses on her lips, then mayhap take a journey down that enchanting, curvaceous body of hers, letting his lips and his tongue guide the way, while his fingers trailed happily along.
 
Mayhap he would feed her sweet cakes and berries while he delighted in the carnal pleasures that her body could offer.

“William, did you hear me?” Nora’s voice broke through his daydream. He startled and sat up a bit taller.

Thank God the tray is on me lap.
“No, I’m sorry, me mind was—” he couldn’t very well tell her where his mind was. She’d knock him off his chair. “I was thinking of what I must do on the morrow, lass. I apologize. What were ye sayin’?”