Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

by Victoria Vane

  ’Twas the limit of what she’d share with the women. Her and Liam’s kiss beneath the moonlight was private—a special intimacy between the two of them. Or at least, the moment was special to her. She worried if the tale was shared, somehow, she might diminish its importance. No doubt, ’twas an irrational notion but, for now, she wished to cling to the memory as long as possible.

  The women waited for her to say more, but she refused. “That’s all the lot of you are getting from me.”

  Grabbing a length of twine from the table, she began to bundle the next bouquet, effectively dismissing them altogether.

  “I understand why my husband likes you.” Arabella chuckled. “I think you’ll be good for our Liam.”

  “See, I was not mistaken.” Mairi flashed a toothsome grin. “I knew we’d become fast friends.”

  Nora shot the woman a dry look which prompted another round of giggles from the women. Stifling her own grin, she bowed her head and focused on twining flowers together.

  In truth, she liked Liam’s kin. Being around them, hearing their jests and seeing their close, affable kinship summoned memories of her own family. ’Twas not often she permitted her mind stray to her mother and father, or remember the clan she and Will left behind.

  A loud bang shook the trestle table, eliciting a jump from each of them. Nora darted a quick look at the opposite end and her shoulders slumped. With a bucket full of vegetables in front of her, Beatrice stared the length of the table, her gaze lingering on Nora. If possible, the woman’s glare would’ve slain her where she sat.

  “I see you’ve made friends,” the blonde sneered.

  Not in the mood to deal with the woman, Nora returned her attention to her bundle of flowers.

  “I pity you if you think befriending MacGregor’s family will keep you in his bed.”

  The tart remark snapped the frayed threads holding Nora’s restraint in check. By the Saints, she’d had enough of the foul woman to last a lifetime. At the end of her tether, she chucked the unfinished bouquet on the table, scattering the blossoms, and rose to her feet, slapping her palms flat on the grains of wood.

  “What’s your damned problem, Beatrice?”

  “My problem?” She scoffed. “’Tis you who shall have a problem when you figure out MacGregor is only using you to get what he wants.”

  Before Nora spat out a sound, Mairi was off the bench. “Hush your wretched mouth, you foul wench. Do not presume to think you know my cousin.”

  Beatrice stepped clear of the table, pressing her fists into her sides. “Oh, come now. We all know MacGregor lies with whoever’s willing to share his bed. When he tires of them, he moves on to the next. I should know.” She slanted a harsh glare at Nora. “Hardly took him long to jump from my bed to yours, did it?”

  Fury fired through Nora’s blood, incinerating her from the top of her head down to her toes. She’d not considered the possibility of the two of them together, and now that the blasted woman had thrown it in her face, she itched to scratch Beatrice’s eyes out.

  “Oh?” Mairi stepped out from in between the table and bench, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you truly comfortable spreading that lie, Beatrice? Because I know for a fact your used-up charms failed to ensnare my cousin.”

  “Why you bitch!” Beatrice snarled as she charged straight for Mairi.

  Standing firm, Mairi dropped her arms, fisting her hands at her sides.

  Nora swallowed her surprise and stepped from the bench to aid Liam’s cousin. As soon as Arabella rose to join in, she pressed a firm, staying hand on the other woman’s shoulder, shoving her back down on the bench. She warned, “Do not even dare, or I vow I’ll tell your husband.”

  Sarah sprang to her feet and Nora shouted at her friend, “Get Liam and Laird MacGregor. Hurry, Sarah!”

  Tossing up the hem of her gown, she sprinted around the table just as Beatrice clashed with Liam’s cousin. Before she reached the pair, Mairi delivered a sound crack across Beatrice’s cheek which sent the woman staggering backward a few paces.

  As Beatrice relaunched her attack, a loud bellow rent the air.

  “Damn it, stop this instant!”

  *

  LIAM SHOVED HIS way in between the women. “Grab ahold of them.”

  Calum subdued Mairi by tucking her behind his broad back, while Symon rushed to restrain Beatrice, snagging her around the waist before she sprang at Mairi once more.

  By all that was holy, Liam had not anticipated walking into the midst of a wildcat fight when he merely wished to seek out Nora. He’d heard every damning word the foul maid hurled at his lass and cousin.

  At the end of his patience, he aimed a harsh glare at Beatrice. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  “Me?” Hatred darkened her blue eyes. “Of course you would take this sow’s side.”

  “Sow?” Mairi’s roar pierced his ears.

  In a flash of movement, Mairi shot past him to lunge for the other woman, but he snared her round the middle. Dragging her back to Calum, he scowled at the man.

  “Christ, hold on to your blasted sister, would you?”

  Trying his damnedest not to grin, Calum wrapped a thick arm around her stomach and dragged her to the other side of the table where his wife sat.

  Liam transferred his glare from his kin to the wretched woman intent to cause trouble. “I’ve had enough of you. I want you gone from Fraser lands by nightfall.”

  “You have no right,” she railed as Symon tightened his hold of her.

  Infuriated by the mere sight of her, he treaded closer, the challenge clear in his stance. “I have every damned right. ’Tis you who’s lost yours. Now pack your damned belongings and get the hell off of our lands before my stroke of mercy wears thin.”

  She yanked free of Symon’s hold, staggering a faltering step from the effort. Her features twisted with scorn. “I’ll see that you pay for this.”

  Exasperated by the empty threat, he snapped right back. “You’re more than welcome to try.”

  Shouting in frustration, Beatrice spun around, her gown swirling at her feet, and stomped toward the village. Several vulgar curses followed in her wake.

  He stalked ahead to join Symon, the two of them watching the woman’s enraged dash across the clearing.

  “The foul bitch is naught but trouble,” Liam muttered.

  “Agreed.” Symon slanted him a sideways stare. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Follow her. Make sure she leaves.” Liam narrowed his eyes. “I’m interested to see where she goes.”

  One corner of the commander’s lip quirked upward. “I’ll see it done.”

  Nodding, Liam cuffed the other man’s shoulder. “I can always depend on you, old friend. You have my thanks.”

  Symon shifted to face him with a dry stare. “Hell, not you, too?”

  Nonplussed, Liam peered at him in question.

  “First Calum, then Fraser. Now you?” Snorting, Symon shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at Nora. “Try not to wed the lass before I return, eh?”

  Liam barked out a laugh and kicked his leg out at the man, but Symon sprinted away, his deep rumbling laughter trailing him as he made for the village.

  With a roll of his eyes, he turned and sought out Nora who stood on the other side of the trestle table with his kin. Craving her nearness, he strode straight for her, sidling close enough to feel the faint warmth of her lean frame.

  He murmured, “Are you all right?”

  She nodded at Mairi. “I’d worry more for your cousin if I were you.”

  Mairi swatted her brother’s hand from her shoulder. “Stop trying to console me.”

  Seething, she paced to and fro, wearing a furious path in the grass. Her angry scowl impaled Liam. “You should’ve let me handle that vile woman or at least waited until I snatched every last strand of stringy blonde hair from her evil head.”

  “Mayhap, I should’ve.” Chuckling at his cousin’s ire, he glanced around the villag
e green, noting some of the villagers had paused to watch the two women spar. “Come along. I believe the clan has seen enough for one day. I’ll escort you to your cottage, Nora.”

  He reached for her hand, but grasped naught but air. Swiveling his head, he stared at her stiff back as she strode across the clearing with a basket in her arms.

  “Nora, wait,” he called after her.

  Without acknowledging him, she quickened her pace as if he’d not spoken at all.

  Saints, he’d traded one problem for another.

  Chapter Fourteen

  NORA HAD REFUSED to speak a word the entire time Liam tailed her through the village. He allowed her to fume in silence, or at least until they reached the privacy of her cottage. Though, he managed to wrangle the basket from her, but not without earning an affronted scowl from the woman. Oh, she was as riled as a spitting kitten, and he knew precisely what upset her.

  He’d heard every vile word Beatrice spat at the women. The damning moment he anticipated with Nora had arrived to his utter chagrin. He’d have to speak the truth of his past—a task he reviled as much as shearing sheep.

  When they arrived at her cottage, she threw open the gate with enough force so that the blasted wooden planks swung back toward him. Lifting the basket higher, he raised his knee to prevent a direct hit to the groin. If he did not dread what was to come, he might’ve laughed at her fit of temper. ’Twas a rather endearing sight. Of course, mentioning so would simply enrage her more.

  Unlatching the door, she pushed inside and spun to face him. She snatched the basket from his arms, dropping the carrier on the dirt floor without a care. Her face flushed bright red and anger sparked in her dark eyes.

  “Thank you for the aid, my lord.” Her tone was as chilled as the loch he bathed in.

  She attempted to shut the door in his face, but he slapped his palm on the wood, pushing the door wider.

  “Wait just a damned minute.”

  Her slippered foot kicked the wicker basket, knocking it over and scattering flowers over the ground. She puffed out a frustrated sigh. “Leave me alone, Liam.”

  “Nay, I shall not.” Determined to speak to her, he stepped inside and pushed the door shut, leaning his back against the timber. “At least until you hear me out.”

  “Why should I bother?” She spun away and stalked to the hearth. “I have no wish to hear of your trysts with Beatrice.”

  Growling in frustration, he banged the back of his head against the door. “For Christ’s sake, I did not bed that horrid woman. You’d believe the rubbish she spouted rather than me?”

  With her back to him, she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she poked at the crackling flames, shoving embers around in the stone hearth. Her stubborn silence pricked his anger.

  He’d been naught but honest with her from the start. Granted, he was not proud of his past and some of the things he’d done, or rather, had not done. But what reason did he have to lie to her?

  Pushing away from the door, he strode to her and gripped her taut shoulders, tugging her to face him. “Talk to me, woman.”

  “Nay,” she shouted and jerked away from him. She retreated to the small cot in the corner along the wall and sank down on the edge. Leaning her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her hands. “Why did you make me care for you?”

  His heart stuttered over the anguished admission. For a moment, he closed his eyes and collected his thoughts before he strode the few longs steps to reach her.

  “Listen to me, will you?” Kneeling in front of her, he grasped her small hands and pulled them to her lap. “Nora, please.”

  Saints, he was not above begging. In fact, he questioned what he would not do to simply bring a smile to her lips. When she lifted her gaze, tears swam in her dark, expressive eyes, slaying him where he knelt. He’d dealt with his fair share of feminine tears, namely from his mother and Mairi, but seeing his lass upset ignited a thunderstorm of fury in him. He silently cursed the vile maid and himself all over again. He should’ve ignored Nora’s plea to let the matter with Beatrice drop and removed the accursed woman the night she’d destroyed his lass’ garden.

  Liam heaved a deep sigh, unwilling to conceal any scrap of the truth from her. “I confess I considered Beatrice for a mere flicker of a moment the night of the Fraser’s wedding, but I quickly came to my senses.”

  The deepening scowl on her features spoke of her displeasure.

  He promptly added, “Nora, I swear on my life and that of my kin, I did not bed Beatrice.”

  Her red-rimmed eyes searched his, as if gauging his sincerity. “Then, why would she say so?”

  “To cause trouble between us.” He lifted a telling brow. “I believe she succeeded in her aim.”

  Nora’s eyes slid closed and she released a shuddered breath. “I cannot do this.”

  His ears strained to hear the mumbled words. “Do what, lass?”

  “This.” Nora motioned between them with a limp flap of her hand. “Whatever this is between us.”

  One simple word described the undeniable connection between them—at least on Liam’s part.

  He shifted to sit beside her on the small bed. Staring straight ahead, he studied the rays of sunlight beaming on the daub wall of the cottage as he struggled to find the right words. Alas, to no avail. His glib tongue failed him at a time when he needed the blasted thing most.

  He cut her a sideways glance. “How do you think I’ve felt? Trust me, I’ve waded in the same sea of uncertainty as you, lass. It’s taken me a few days to grasp things.”

  She peered at him with a wary edge. “And do you?”

  “Aye, everything’s fallen into place for me.” He reached for her hand. “I hope they will for you as well.”

  Accepting his offer, she twined her fingers through his. He glanced down at their joined hands, reveling in the might in her delicate fingers. Much like the rest of the lass. Despite her lean stature, the woman exuded such quiet strength.

  “Truth be told, I’ve dreaded this moment,” he confessed. “I knew my past would create an obstacle between us. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done, nor is there an excuse for my behavior. ’Tis a part of me I cannot change. Believe me, I wish I could. For you.”

  Untangling her hand, she shifted to face him, bending her knee and tucking her leg beneath her. Understanding softened her sad features.

  “I know you cannot change your past any more than I can rid myself of the constant doubts and fears that torment me. Even if you could, I’d never expect you to change. Your past has shaped you into the man you are, Liam.” She glanced down at the scrap of apron she rolled between her fingers. “I’m sorry for my temper. ’Twas foolish of me to listen to Beatrice’s lies.”

  With her downcast face studying her lap, she continued to fiddle with the bit of fabric.

  “Nora, tell me. What’s bothering you?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she glanced at the window. “I’m not a striking woman. Not like some of the clan’s women I’ve seen vying for your affections. How could I ever hold your attention? What I cannot fathom, for the life of me, is why me?”

  What women? ’Twas truth, he’d failed to notice other women since he’d met Nora. His entire focus centered on the lass, a fact he’d accepted without any difficulty. True, he might struggle to understand his new feelings, but he embraced them for what they were—a privilege. ’Twas an honor to have found Nora, and he refused to forfeit his prize.

  “You wish to know what makes you stand out?” He hoisted himself up and ambled over to the window. He peered over his shoulder. “Because everyone else is not you.”

  A wealth of truth hung in the simple words. Everything about Nora, down to the smallest detail, set her apart from any other woman he’d ever met. No one compared to the lass, and he doubted anyone ever could.

  He yearned to banish the uncertainty lingering in her eyes altogether. Compelled to move as he spilled his innermost thoughts, he began to wear a path in the cottage
floor, pacing from one end of the small dwelling to the other.

  “’Twas not so long ago I teased my cousin mercilessly over his tender feelings for his wife when they’d first met. The man was as irritable as they come while he tried to sort through his tangled emotions.” He snorted. “At last, I understand what Calum went through. Of course, I’m not nearly as frustrating. You should be pleased I’m not. Arabella was ready to throttle my cousin within an inch of his life.”

  Pausing by the table, he chanced a glance at Nora and found the lass watching his every move. He held her dark gaze.

  “I vowed I’d never allow myself to tumble head first for anyone. But I have, Nora—for you. You wish to know what makes you different? ’Tis your dark, expressive eyes. I could gaze into those alluring gems for days and never tire of the sight.”

  Noting the bloom of color in her cheeks, he moved a step toward her.

  “’Tis your kind heart. I’ve witnessed the kindness and care you’ve shown with Will and Geordie, with my mother, and even your garden.”

  Liam shifted a pace closer. Her chest rose and fell with her accelerated breaths.

  “’Tis your sense of honor, your integrity, the sharp wit you possess.”

  With another step forward, he grinned.

  “Even that frown of yours. You know, the one you frequently grace me with.”

  Never one to disappoint, a scowl creased her features. “My frown?”

  He chuckled at the outrage in her voice. “Aye, ’tis a most endearing sight. Each time you frown at me, I’m beset with the urge to kiss the look away. I’ll tell you what I adore more. ’Tis the smile you hold in reserve. When you smile at me, lass, ’tis as though you’re allowing me to view a part of yourself no one else has seen before.”

  Obliterating the remaining distance between them, he stood before her. “’Tis how you make me feel. When I’m with you, I’m utterly at ease. There’s no need for me to spout some drivel to fill the silence, nor do I have to work my charms on you. You’ve seen straight through that nonsense from the start. I’ve never felt more at peace with another woman in my life. I do not have the answers for what’s between us, Nora, but I’ll be damned if I will walk away from you.”