Reckless Scotland

by Vane, Victoria

  Fraser stroked his bushy beard as he mulled over the notion. “Hmm, I did not realize ’twas a problem.”

  “When I fetched water with Nora, ’twas easy to grasp how difficult the task must be for a woman of her stature.” He shrugged, glancing away from Fraser’s alert stare.

  “Nora, eh?” A ridiculous grin spread over the man’s features.

  He ignored the man’s probing altogether. Without a doubt, he refused to allow the man an opportunity to blunder things between him and Nora. “I merely thought it might benefit the clan.”

  “I agree. ’Tis a sound idea. Speak to Domnall in the village.”

  “Aye, I’ve spoken to Will. The lad and I intend to pay the man a visit on the morrow.”

  Fraser’s brows lifted. “Nora’s brother?”

  “Aye, what of it?” Defensive, Liam aimed a scowl at the man. “Will has a head for that sort of thing.”

  “Calm your ruffled feathers, lad.” Chuckling, the older man held his hands up in surrender. “I do not doubt you. I trust your judgment.”

  Appeased by the words, he shifted topics to a matter he’d put off. No longer capable of withholding his thoughts, he broached a subject that might rouse Fraser’s ire.

  “I’ve given some thought to the poisoning. I do not suppose you have an inkling as to who?”

  Humor fled Fraser’s countenance. “If I had, then the bastard would no longer draw breath.”

  Wary, he sucked in a lungful of air before blurting, “What of Kenneth?”

  Fraser’s spine stiffened as straight as an arrow. “What of him?”

  “I’m not suggesting the man.” In truth, he was but Liam tiptoed around the accusation. “’Twas just a fleeting notion. Is there any reason you might have to suspect Kenneth?”

  “Of course not,” Fraser insisted with a sharp bark. The mere notion seemed to frustrate the man. “He’s been in my service for years. The man’s as loyal as they come. Is there something I should know?”

  Without any solid proof to support the claim, there was little chance of convincing Fraser of his trusted commander’s treachery.

  “Nay, not at all. As I said, ’twas naught but a fleeting notion. Forget I mentioned a thing.”

  Liam held his tongue, unwilling to rile Fraser. Though, he wagered Kenneth’s betrayal might cut deep when the knowledge came to light.

  *

  ’Twas midday before Liam left Fraser’s bedchamber to seek out Nora. After a restless night thinking of the lass and then his discussion with Fraser, he dragged his feet through the village. Despite his wish to remain unaffected and unhindered by responsibility, a yoke of worry was slung around his shoulders, the weight bogging him down.

  As he passed Frasers in the village, many called out polite greetings or waved, but he scarcely managed to muster a smile in his present lackluster mood. The persistent, dull ache in his temple only intensified as the day wore on.

  When he reached Nora’s cottage, he paused outside the gate long enough to consider what he might say. As soon as he stepped inside and spotted the lass hunched over her garden, his step faltered.

  Every last vegetable plant and sprout she’d taken such time and care with had been ripped from the earth and torn to shreds. Gouged holes scattered the disturbed soil, the dirt strewn in disarray. Beside her bent knees lay the broken pieces of her wooden trowel.

  Once he stumbled over his shock, a torrent of anger trembled through his frame.

  “What the devil happened?”

  The words left his throat in a bellow of outrage that startled Nora. At once, he regretted the action when her wide, red-rimmed eyes jolted to his. The sheer pain in her deep brown eyes jabbed him like a punch to the gut, robbing the air from his lungs. Tears stained her flushed cheeks, cleaving straight through his chest.

  In a few long strides, he knelt beside her. “Nora, what happened?”

  She hurriedly glanced away. Her small fist opened, releasing the dirt from her palm.

  When she failed to respond, he gripped her shoulders, tugging her to face him. “Who did this, lass? Tell me.”

  Though, he had a fair notion.

  Shrugging off his hold, she shook her head. “’Twas naught but an accursed, wild beast.”

  Liam raised a skeptical brow at the ripped sprouts and broken trowel, hardly the work of red squirrels. He plucked a piece of the shovel from the ground, clearly ruined by a pair of human hands. “A beast, eh?”

  With a defeated sigh, she dashed away the rest of her tears with her apron and began to pick up the pieces of her beloved vegetable garden. She chucked the remnants into an empty bucket.

  Saints, why was she not frothing with anger?

  “For Christ’s sake, Nora. Tell me,” he urged. “Trust me to handle the matter.”

  “I’ve told you, ’tis naught but an animal,” she insisted with a stubborn grind of her teeth.

  Her refusal to name the horrid bitch of a maid ignited a flurry of rage. “What’s the matter with you? If you will not name the damned woman, then I shall.”

  He jumped to his feet and snatched the bucket she filled from the ground, intent to shove the dirty remains of the garden in the wench’s face.

  Hampered by her gown, Nora almost toppled over as she rushed to her feet. She made a quick grab for his arm, her nails digging through the linen of his sleeve.

  “Nay, Liam,” she pleaded with a sharp cry. “Please, let the matter rest.”

  He turned a disbelieving scowl on her. “After the time and care you’ve taken with your garden, you’d simply allow the miserable hag to destroy it?”

  Those arresting eyes of hers snared him. “’Tis just a garden, Liam.” She eased her hold on his forearm but did not remove her hand. “I can always plant another.”

  For a fleeting moment, he floundered between wanting to shake some sense into the blasted lass and kissing the distress from her flushed features.

  “Nora.” He breathed her name, the sound somewhere between a curse and a blessing. “I do not understand you.”

  “I hardly understand myself anymore.” Her brows pinched together. “Please, do not say anything.”

  Besieged by her foolish request, Liam growled in frustration. He’d half a mind to confront Beatrice despite Nora’s wishes, but then she’d never trust him again.

  “Give me one reason why I should not?” he demanded.

  “Because we are friends,” she rushed out.

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to do better than that, lass.”

  Indecision flickered in her features. “Because I am asking you not to confront her.”

  He stepped closer, her face mere inches from his own. “’Tis not a reason, Nora.”

  “Because I’ve no wish to give the clan anything more to gossip about. Have we not already given them enough?” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “I’ve chosen to live a quiet life for Will’s sake and my own. If you speak to Beatrice, you shall cause us naught but trouble. I ask you, please, let the matter rest.”

  The statement sent dozens of questions hurtling through his mind. Saints, he wanted to press her for more but he sensed her unease and chose to hold his tongue. The longer he stared into those big, brown eyes, flecked with shards of amber, the harder ’twas not a haul the woman against his chest if naught else then to merely feel the warm press of her slight frame to his. ’Twas more than a quick tumble he sought from Nora.

  This connection between them delved deeper than a simple case of lust ever would. He craved running his hands through her silken tresses, longed to brush his fingertips over her soft skin, to cradle her in his arms. Saints, he’d never desired a woman more in his life.

  In a blinding flash of certainty, he understood what he truly wanted.

  By God, he wished the responsibility of caring for her. ’Twas a duty he’d embrace with open arms. He wished for her trust, yearned for her to confide all her troubles and secrets to him. He ached to smooth away the worry from her delicate brows, to bri
ng a smile to her lips. Christ, if she were his, he’d do everything in his power to make certain she never frowned again.

  “Please, Liam.”

  Her soft words shifted something in his chest. Something he lacked before—a missing piece that Nora somehow completed. His cousin was right. He had wholeheartedly fallen. The change of his feelings happened with such a subtle shift, he failed to realize he’d plummeted over the edge into new territory—love.

  “Fine.” He leaned in close enough to catch the hitch of her breath. “But know this, Nora. My patience only extends so far.”

  Gazing into his eyes, she nodded wordlessly. Though, he doubted she comprehended the depth of his warning. Soon, the lass would discover his intent.

  Chapter Twelve

  A faint thud wrenched Nora from her light slumber and she rolled onto her back, tucking the furs beneath her chin. Another distant thump outside the cottage reached her ears. Her eyes popped open and she bolted upright, wide-eyed and heart pounding. Alarmed, she tossed aside the covers and sprang from her cot, reaching for the dagger stowed beneath her pillow. She considered rousing Will but his soft snores wafted throughout the dark cottage. Gathering her courage, she tiptoed to the entrance and eased the door open to prevent the iron hinges from groaning.

  Clad in naught but a thick chemise, she shivered against the frigid night air. Shafts of moonlight illuminated the village outside the door, painting a soft radiance over the area. The noise sounded again from the side of her home, and a ripple of fright squeezed her throat in a strangling grip. Shaking off her unease, she stepped outside onto the cold, hard earth.

  Nora prayed ’twas not Beatrice causing more trouble. At that point, the frayed threads of her patience snapped in two. Nora clutched the dagger in her hand, unsure if she could restrain herself from pricking the maid square in the eye.

  On bare feet, she crept over the cool, flat, stone walkway leading to the corner of her cottage. Peeking around the edge, she barely made out a lone figure crouched low to the ground, concealed in shadows. Heart banging in her chest, she sucked in a deep breath and stepped free of the wall, brandishing the dagger in front of her.

  “You there! Stop!” She ignored her chattering teeth and the shakiness of her hand.

  Startled, the figure jerked upright. Moonlight gleamed off his flaxen hair and bathed his features with recognition.

  “Liam?” The air pushed from her lungs in a loud gust and her body slackened with relief.

  “Christ, woman, you startled me.”

  “I startled you?” she exclaimed. “You nearly gave me a fright.”

  His wide gaze flitted to the knife in her hand. “I do not suppose you’d mind lowering your weapon.”

  She dropped her arm, the dagger hanging limp in her grasp, and squinted at the man. “What the devil was that pounding?” She glanced to the pocket of darkness in front of him. “How can you see a thing out here?”

  “Ah, you see…” Ducking his head, he raised a heavy iron pick as if to explain. “’Twas all I could find in the village to dig with this late and the blasted lantern blew out.”

  For a suspended moment, silence droned in Nora’s ears as she attempted to make sense of his explanation. She considered pinching herself to ensure she was truly awake and not staggering along in a strange dream. She hesitated to ask, “Why are you digging?”

  “I’m not digging.” He dropped the pick beside him with a heavy thump. “Well, not anymore.”

  At an utter loss, she blinked several times before responding, “Is something amiss?”

  With his palms resting on his bent thighs, he stared into the shadows in front of him. “I planted new seeds.”

  The mumbled words tumbled round in her head for a moment before she comprehended the meaning. The pulse in her neck quickened to a wild thrum, while her stomach flipped with nervous flutters. His grumbled admission shot straight through her chest, snaring her softening heart. Touched by his thoughtfulness, she swallowed against the lump of emotion suddenly clogged in her throat.

  Of their own accord, her feet carried her forward until she stood beside him. Unable to stop herself, she knelt on the cold earth and stared at his dim profile. A careless lock of hair rested against his forehead. She gave in to the urge and lifted her hand to brush the soft, stray hairs aside.

  “I…” She struggled to find the right words but failed. A simple thank you was far too inadequate and commonplace to express how much the gesture meant.

  Shifting on his knees to face her, he met her gaze with an intensity that froze her in place. His nearness sent an unbidden tremble coursing through her frame.

  “You’re cold.” He untied the mantle from his neck and twirled the warm, woolen cloak over her head to rest on her shoulders. Tucking the collar to her throat, he leaned closer and his stubbled jaw grazed her cheek. “I’d hoped to surprise you.”

  The soft lilt of his voice, coupled with the spicy, masculine scent of his skin, drew the air from her chest. Lost in his gaze, she worked to steady her racing heart. ’Twas wrong of her to long for his kiss but, God help her, she did.

  “Liam…” The word drifted from her throat in a breathless whisper.

  When he grasped her face between his callused hands, she hardly cared dirt soiled his nails and fingers. His face moved within a hairsbreadth of hers. “Nora.”

  She licked her lips and placed her palms on his broad chest. Despite the chill in the air, the heat of his body warmed her fingertips through his linen tunic.

  “If I kiss you…” His nose brushed hers. “Will you promise not to blacken my eye this time?”

  The silly question wrenched a laugh from her. Running her hands up his solid chest to his thick shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ll have to kiss me to find out.”

  His full lips curved with a grin as he closed the remaining distance to settle them over hers. He teased at the seam of her mouth and she sighed against his lips. He enfolded her in his arms, hauling her flush to his chest. His tongue slipped inside, sending a frisson of heat through her frame.

  As he deepened the kiss, she followed his lead, twining her tongue with his. Lost in the new feelings he awakened within her, she moaned into his mouth as a slow burn ignited deep in her belly.

  Too soon, he released her mouth and pulled back to stare down at her. The range of emotions in his potent gaze held her captive. His thumbs brushed the heated skin of her cheeks.

  “Nora, my sweet lass, I care for you. Very much.”

  The admission stole what was left of her breath. Did he truly mean the words? Holy Mother, she longed to believe him.

  “I vow ’tis true.” Liam placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips that battered at her waning defenses. “Do you feel anything for me, Nora?”

  She considered lying to spare herself the anguish that was sure to follow. After her mother and father’s deaths, she’d buried her feelings, locking them away deep inside, for the sake of protecting Will. But now, as she searched Liam’s hesitant gaze, she could not force the lie past her lips. For once, she acted with selfish abandon.

  With a shuddered breath, she admitted the truth. “I…care for you, too.”

  Though, care was too tame a word to describe the sensation beating in unison with her heart.

  Hauling her against his chest, he captured her lips with a searing kiss that tingled straight to the tips of her frigid toes. His mouth drifted to her chin, kissing a soft trail to her ear. His warm breath heated her skin. “So…how was it?”

  How like the man to jest at a time such as this.

  Nora affixed a frown and pretended to ponder the question. After a moment, she heaved a sigh. “’Twas tolerable, I suppose.”

  Smothering his laugh in her hair, he hugged her close. “I’ve a sneaking suspicion you shall always vex me.”

  She tugged the hair at his nape to prompt him to look at her. She whispered in earnest, “Thank you, Liam.”

  “’Tis truth I’d do anything to
please you, Nora.”

  For now, she would savor his words. At least, before the illusion shattered.

  *

  Yawning into his hand, Liam glanced at the various bits and pieces of carved wooden statues and woodwork cluttered in the yard as Will knocked on the cottage door.

  “We can come back another time, if you wish,” the young man spoke over his shoulder.

  “Nay, I just did not rest well last eve.” ’Twas not a lie, in truth. He’d spent part of the night working in Nora’s garden and the other half dreaming of the lass. Before he sank into a deep slumber, sunlight spilled through his window.

  “I do not believe Nora did either.”

  “Oh?” He held his breath, uncertain if the lad suspected anything between him and Nora.

  “Aye, she awoke—”

  The door swung open and a great, lumbering bear of a man with a black beard speckled with white and gray ducked his head beneath the short doorway. Somewhat surprised, Liam blinked at the sheer size of the carpenter. ’Twas not what he’d expected in the least.

  The man’s light gaze shifted between the pair of them. “Will. MacGregor. What can I do for the two of you?”

  “Morning, Domnall.” Will quirked a smile. “There’s a matter we hoped to discuss with you.”

  “Aye, aye.” The carpenter moved aside and gestured to the table and chairs in the middle of the cottage. “Please, come in. Take a seat.”

  Once they stepped inside, Liam’s eyes widened. Hundreds of wee figures stared back at him. From numerous animals to people carved with intricate features, an impressive display of small, wooden statues peeked from every corner in the small cottage. Even a miniature representation of the keep and other structures in the courtyard such as the stables and the kirk sat atop the mantel over the stone hearth.

  He paced closer, picking up a whittled piece to inspect the craftsmanship. The smooth wood had been carved with a steady, skilled hand. Given the size of the carpenter’s, ’twas truly remarkable.

  Liam faced Domnall, lifting the small carving in his hand. “Amusement of yours?”