Reckless Scotland

by Vane, Victoria

  “Get those out of my face.” She swatted his arm away.

  Liam chuckled. “Ah well, I merely paid a visit to invite your sister to join me in the hall this eve. The same goes for you.”

  “Truly?” Will exclaimed. “That would be—”

  “Nay.” Nora aimed a pointed look at her brother.

  “In fact, I’ve called for the entire clan to attend the evening meal.” Liam carried on as if she’d not refused. “There’s an announcement I wish to make concerning Fraser.”

  Alarm spiked through Nora. “Is he…?”

  “Oh Saints, nay,” Liam rushed to assure her. “He’s well. In need of time to heal, but well.”

  Her shoulders slumped in relief and she blew out a gust of air.

  “Nora,” Liam said. “I understand your reluctance to dine in the hall, ’tis just…”

  His brow furrowed, he glanced at the forest beyond her cottage, as though the dense wood might offer an answer.

  While she waited for him to continue, she studied his profile. Her gaze moved from the straight length of his nose down to the broad set of his jaw. The seam of his lips pressed in a firm line. His carefree stance shifted, his posture tensing with a rigid set. For once, the self-assured man’s confidence appeared to have abandoned him.

  A perplexing blend of curiosity and apprehension compelled her to inquire, “’Tis what, my lord?”

  Cutting her a glimpse from the corner of his good eye, he muttered, “Liam.”

  “Liam,” she amended with a glance heavenward.

  “’Tis just… I’d hoped…”—he cleared his throat—“it would be reassuring to see at least a pair of faces among the clan that believes in my innocence.”

  Ah, ’twas support he sought. In a way, she understood his need. With the Frasers’ mistrust where Liam was concerned, facing the entire clan would be unnerving for anyone. For some inexplicable reason, Nora took mercy on the man.

  Despite her reservations, she nodded. “All right. We shall attend.”

  His uncertainty laid to rest, the foolish grin he frequently donned slid into place once more.

  Unmoved by his charms, she suppressed an eye roll. “What’s the announcement?”

  Liam winked his good eye. “You shall have to attend to find out, won’t you?”

  Chapter Eight

  As a battle of nerves fought a skirmish inside his stomach, Liam paused outside the entryway leading into the great hall. Hell, he’d been more rattled in the last day than he had his entire life. Closing his eyes, he silently beseeched the divine power to lend a store of courage and patience to carry him through the eve.

  A firm hand thwacked the middle of his back, pushing the air from his lungs. “Breathe, man.”

  Heeding his cousin’s wise advice, he pulled in a deep drag of air. Scents of roasted meats and spices filled his nostrils. He shot a quick glimpse at Calum who stood at his side. The man stared straight ahead into the hall, his taut profile comporting that of a man in his station.

  ’Twas a talent Calum learned well over the years since he’d been thrust into leading Clan MacGregor after his father’s death. A skill Liam observed from his cousin. And Fraser, in truth. Scarcely changed the fact he’d no more desire to lead a clan than he did the eve prior.

  Alas, he no longer had a choice in the matter. His mother and cousin made sure of that. A subject he would be sure to broach with Calum soon enough.

  Liam gave himself a hard shake to shove aside his ridiculous fretfulness and remembered who the devil he was. By God, he was a MacGregor. Time for him to act as one.

  His confidence bolstered, he nodded at Calum and strode through the entryway into the great hall, heading straight for the high table on the raised dais in the rear. His buckskin boots crunched over the fresh rushes servants had scattered over the stone floors after the previous night’s feast. Regardless of the Frasers’ gauging stares, Liam held his head high as he swept past the lined rows of trestle tables and benches.

  When he stepped onto the raised dais, an imbued sense of honor impelled him to choose any other seat rather than the laird’s chair. The action earned him a smirk from his cousin. Rolling his eyes, he settled in a cushioned high-back chair facing the hall.

  He took the opportunity to survey the occupants in the chamber, noting the half-filled benches. Every MacGregor who’d attended the banquet the prior eve was present, but the Frasers trickled in by the handfuls. Though, he suspected some might not attend to spite him.

  A melancholy quiet blanketed the mood in the hall, while concern lingered on most faces. Hushed conversations along with the clatter of tankards, aided by the busy clamor in the kitchens, alleviated the stifling silence. Servants dashed to and from the kitchens and down the aisles, filling goblets with ale and laying out the evening’s fare. Heaped platters of roasted meats, boiled vegetables, fruits, cheeses and butter covered each tabletop.

  Liam eyed the generous tray of food a serving maid placed between him and his cousin. At once, the poisoning entered his mind as he stared longingly at the platter. Steam rose from the hot fare and his mouth watered in anticipation. The savory mingle of aromas awakened his empty stomach, eliciting a grumbling protest. In that instant, he was willing to take the risk.

  Calum flicked a finger toward the tray. “If you’re famished, eat. ’Tis naught stopping you.”

  “I’m waiting for someone.” Liam resisted the impulse to grab a chunk of meat and shove the morsel in his starving mouth.

  “Who?” Calum asked. “I’ve sent a tray up for Arabella, and Mairi’s dining with your mother in Fraser’s chambers.”

  His gaze shifted to the hall entrance. “Nora.”

  Calum’s dark brows rose. “The woman?”

  “Aye.” He sighed. The blasted, stubborn woman.

  Her absence should not astound him, but the accompanying pang of disappointment was a bit unsettling. Why should he care at all? ’Twas not as though he planned to bed the woman, in truth. In fact, he knew little of her but, mayhap, he wished to learn more.

  Earlier in the day, he fully intended to offer a prompt apology to Nora and toddle along on his way, but he’d lingered for some reason. Something about the woman appealed to him, compelling him to remain. He caught a glimpse of her comely smile when she thought no one noticed. Another side, one the lass hid behind a guarded frown, peeked through and snagged his attention. Fascinated, he itched to learn the woman’s secrets.

  A soon as Kenneth marched into the hall, Liam’s concentration shifted to the hard-faced commander. The man’s gaze spanned over the chamber before lingering on Liam. The disdain in the soldier’s eyes had cooled little since that morn. Foregoing his usual place at the high table, Kenneth joined a group of Fraser warriors and their wives near the front of the hall. Idle chatter descended to hushed whispers as everyone took notice of the evident slight.

  What had changed with the man? He and Kenneth had known each other for years, spending long hours in the training fields, and neither of them ever shared a harsh word or ill will. Why the man rushed to point the blame at him for poisoning Fraser bothered Liam. He narrowed his eyes on the man. There had to be something else there, but he just did not have the answers yet.

  “Is there still naught I can do for you, my lord?”

  Interrupted from his musings, he peered over his shoulder. The blonde maid from last eve stood between him and Calum, holding a pitcher of ale. Her inviting smile widened while the loose lacings of her blouse drew undue attention to her ample bosom.

  The generous curves and feminine wiles he’d found appealing the previous night were wholly lost on him this eve. For once, he had more pressing matters to contend with than wasting time dallying with a serving maid.

  Truth be told, only one prickly female occupied his thoughts at present. After Nora admitted he’d stolen a kiss, the image lodged in the forefront of his mind and he could not seem to shake the notion free. ’Twas a shame he’d no memory of the encounter. Then again, he’d r
ather not remember the subsequent clout to his eye.

  “Nay, not a thing.” He spoke each word slowly to add weight to his meaning.

  The slightest hint of anger sparked in her features before she concealed the emotion behind a deceptively false smile.

  “Aye, my lord.” She curtsied and continued down the aisle.

  For a split instant, he considered her as she filled tankards with ale. Could she have had something to do with the poisoning? Her position would’ve allowed her an opportunity to administer the lethal dose, but at what gain? There was no benefit to her in the least.

  Setting aside his misgivings, he shifted to face his cousin. Calum stared at him as though he were a complete stranger. “What?”

  Calum’s mouth snapped shut and he shook his head. “’Tis just I’ve never seen you pass on an offer of female company before.”

  “Of course I have. Plenty of times.”

  Calum quirked an incredulous brow. “Are you so certain?”

  Rather than justify his actions, he glanced to the hall entrance and the pulse leapt in his throat. A fidgeting Nora stood at the threshold with her brother at her side. Clad in an unflattering tan gown, she’d left her dark hair unbound and flowing to her waist. Her grim countenance would rival that of any hardened warrior on the day of battle. The woman looked every bit as out of place as Liam felt.

  Scraping his chair over the stone floor, he pushed to his feet, drawing not only Nora and Will’s notice, but everyone gathered in the hall. Will offered a small wave and pointed to a trestle table in the front corner, a table too far away by Liam’s measure. Uncaring of the interested stares, he motioned for them to join him at the high table.

  Nora shook her head and attempted to edge away from Will, but the lad whispered something in her ear. When her comely face crumpled with a scowl, her brother grabbed her arm, all but dragging her across the hall to the raised dais.

  Liam grinned at the pair and gestured to the empty seats across the table. “Please, join us.”

  “My lord. Laird MacGregor.” Will dipped his head as he deposited his grumbling sister in the armchair opposite of Liam.

  Once the lad took his seat, Liam returned to his own. He peered at Nora, waiting for her to glance at him. The woman stubbornly averted her gaze to the trays of fare laid out on the table in front of them.

  He cleared his throat. “I was beginning to think you might not attend, Nora.”

  The address captured her attention and her dark eyes pierced him with her annoyance.

  “’Twas not for lack of trying,” she muttered beneath her breath, wringing a chuckle out of Calum.

  Liam snorted at her dry comment and grabbed his eating knife to fill his trencher. As soon as he stabbed the first chunk of meat, an elbow jabbed him in the ribs. He shot a quick glance at Calum, who nodded toward the hall entrance.

  “It would seem you have another guest.”

  Elena Fraser stood in the entryway, scanning the hall. Torchlight glimmered on the elegant sapphire gown she donned. Though she’d reached middle age, time had done little to diminish his mother’s beauty. She might’ve gained a few wrinkles, but her smooth skin retained a youthful appearance. Hands clasped in front of her, she affixed a tight smile on her lips.

  Without a second thought, Liam hopped to his feet and dashed across the hall in no time. He beamed at his mother while he presented his arm. The artificial smile she wore eased into a natural grin as she placed her small hand atop his forearm. He guided her to the raised dais, taking care to settle her in Fraser’s empty seat.

  “I thought you were dining with Mairi this eve. You should’ve told me and I would’ve escorted you myself,” he chastised with a frown.

  The woman knew better. Until they located the person responsible for Fraser’s mishap, ’twas not safe for her to stroll the halls without a guard. But managing her stubborn will was as effective as controlling Fraser’s coarse tongue.

  “My Hammish is in good hands with Mairi.” She affectionately patted his hand. “I preferred not miss your announcement, my son.”

  Though he dreaded his upcoming speech, his mother’s encouraging words soothed the unease wreaking havoc in his midsection. ’Twas heartening having her there by his side. Along with Calum, Nora and Will. Just their presence alone encouraged him.

  “Mother, allow me to introduce Nora Fraser and her brother, Will. ’Tis thanks to both of them I’m not still languishing away in the dungeons as we speak.”

  Calum snorted. “Languishing? Hardly.”

  “Well, I might’ve been.” Liam shrugged.

  Elena smiled in gratitude at Will and Nora. “Thank you both for your aid and for believing in him. I know ’tis difficult given his nature.”

  “Hey!” He shot a mock scowl at his mother.

  She winked. “Do not fash yourself, sweeting.”

  Nora lifted a hand to stifle her grin.

  Chuckling, Will leaned closer. “My lady, I sincerely hope the laird is well.”

  “Aye, he’s resting, but much improved. Thank you for your concern, lad.”

  “I’m pleased to hear he’s well, Lady Fraser.” Nora’s features lit with a sincere smile that extended to her eyes. “Please let him know the clan wishes him a swift recovery.”

  “’Tis kind of you to say, Nora dear.” Elena beamed. “I shall pass along the well wishes.”

  His mother darted a fleeting, pointed look at Liam and he almost laughed out loud. No doubt, the woman would pester him later for details. As would his cousin.

  Unable to ignore the aromas drifting up his nostrils, he picked prime bits of fare to serve his mother. After he filled her trencher and made sure Will had served Nora, Liam piled his own full with an assortment of meats, vegetables and fruits. Aside from the porridge that morning, he’d eaten little else. His empty stomach urged him to dig in. He savored each bite with relish, heedless of the idle chatter around him.

  Much later, after he’d eaten his fill, he looked over the hall, contemplating what he might say. At present, the strained mood in the chamber did not bode an eager acceptance. The Frasers’ restlessness hung in the thick air. Numerous glances toward the high table, coupled with a flurry of whispers, spoke of their mounting agitation.

  With one last fortifying sip of ale, he rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “If I could have your attention, please. I have an announcement.”

  Noise ground to a stuttering halt while every head in the hall swung his direction.

  “I’m pleased to inform you that Laird Fraser has improved.” He flourished an arm at his mother. “With the diligence of his lady wife, he’s on the mend.”

  A round of cheers and gratitude to the heavens emerged from the quiet chamber, dispelling a somber layer from the mood.

  If only the rest of his announcement met with such success. He hesitated for an instant while the words fumbled round on his tongue. Ignoring the sweat beaded on his brow, he raised his hands to signal for a modicum of silence.

  With a deep breath, he rushed out, “That being said, I’ve agreed to oversee the clan in his stead.”

  Handfuls of shocked denials rose in unison. In a few short moments, mild apprehension shifted to outraged comments and horrified shouts. The entire hall gushed into disorder.

  Liam expected naught less, but the cold reception rankled. Exasperated, he yelled over the clamor. “Calm yourselves.”

  With the Frasers worked into a frenzy, his words vanished into the sea of doubt. Beside him, he caught a glimpse of his mother’s affronted features. Her hands grasped the arms of her chair as she prepared to stand and swoop to his defense, but he halted her with a staying hand on her shoulder. ’Twas his problem to handle, not hers. Otherwise, he’d never gain the clan’s respect.

  Grabbing his empty tankard, he banged the heavy metal bottom on the trestle table thrice. He bellowed, “Silence!”

  To his utter relief, the action achieved the desired effect. The uproar dwindled to a few startled gasps. Wid
e eyes throughout the chamber stared at him with varying degrees of trepidation. Nora and Will included, to Liam’s chagrin.

  Biting back his irritation, he sighed. “I understand your reluctance and fears, but let me be the first to assure you, ’tis not permanent. Fraser shall be back on his feet and ready to lead this clan as he’s always done.”

  The words partially quieted the brewing storm in the hall, but several distrusting gazes lingered among the crowd.

  A clan elder piped up, “What if we do not want you as our laird?”

  The man had gumption, Liam would give him that. “I’m quite aware many of you suspect my involvement with the laird’s poisoning, but ’tis the God’s honest truth, I had naught to do with it.”

  “If not you, then who?” a worried feminine voice drifted up from the front of the hall.

  Murmurs moved through the masses at an alarming rate. ’Twas a question everyone wished answered. Alas, he had none to give.

  “I know not, but I’ve every intention of finding the person accountable.” He heaved a weighted sigh. “Our clans are close allies and have been for generations. Many of you have known me for years, and many of you also know the laird and I’ve had our differences over the years. But naught shall change the fact he’s a strong, proud man whom I happen to hold in high esteem. I’ve no wish to take the old boar’s place and doubt I ever could.”

  His attempt at amusement gained him several grunts and a few chuckles.

  Liam forged on, “For now, Laird Fraser cannot afford to waste his strength fretting over his clan. ’Tis time better spent resting and healing. All that I ask of you is your simple cooperation. Help me to ease the burden on your laird until he’s well.”

  “What of the wool harvest?” one of the Frasers called out. “’Tis only a sennight away.”

  A round of ayes circled the query, which concerned Liam as well. He understood how important the harvest was to the clan’s livelihood, and he had no intention of leaving the Frasers to tend to matters on their own.