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

by Suzan Tisdale

  Nial breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief as he cast a look at Caelen. For a brief moment, Caelen looked let down by the news. Nial supposed the man was disappointed that he’d not get the chance to take Gillon Randolph’s life.

  “So why are we here, Angus?” Findley asked. He had been sitting quietly, with his chin resting on his fingers and his index finger near his temple.

  Angus took a deep breath in, held it for a moment before releasing it slowly. “I fear there is somethin’ amiss. Somethin’ I can’t quite put me finger to. It warns me we’ve a traitor in our midst.”

  The men looked at each other. Wee William sat forward in his chair. “A traitor? Among the MacDougall clan?” It was not easy for Wee William to believe one of their own would turn against them.

  “Nay, not among our clan, Wee William,” Angus said as he leaned back in his chair. “I fear it be one of the seven who signed the agreement of peace.”

  Nial and Caelen looked to one another. Something silent passed between them and it did not go unnoticed by Angus.

  “I do no’ believe it be either of ye, lads,” Angus said. His voice was low and steady. “Elst I would no’ have ye here this night.”

  Rowan had been listening intently. There was no way on God’s earth that Angus could believe that his father, Andrew Graham, was a traitor. But his lack of presence in the meeting gave Rowan pause. “Do you think me father a traitor?” he asked, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

  Angus shook his head. “Nay, I do no’. But I fear we must be verra careful from this point forward. The fewer people who are aware of my suspicions, the better off we’ll be. Yer da is no more a traitor than I.”

  Angus’ statement did nothing to make Rowan feel better. “If ye do no’ consider me da a traitor, then why is he no’ here?”

  “Rowan, do no’ be offended!” Angus barked at him. “I’ve already spoken privately with yer da, he’s well aware of me suspicions. He agreed to no’ attend. No one will suspect anything unusual in the seven of us meeting.”

  Rowan sat back in his seat, glad to know that Angus had already discussed his concerns with Andrew.

  “So who do ye think it be?” Wee William asked as he shrugged first one shoulder, then the other, to work out the kinks in his neck. He was tired and sorely missing his wife.

  “I prefer to keep that to meself fer now,” Angus said. Before anyone could protest, he explained his thinking to them.

  “I do no’ want me own suspicions to keep any of ye from seein’ somethin’ that I canna see. There be a good chance I’m wrong. I do no’ want me own suspicions cloudin’ yer good judgments. If I’m right, then I ken I haven’t lost too much of me senses with me auld age,” he smiled at the men.

  Findley, Wee William and Duncan chuckled softly. The other men were in far more serious moods. “And if I be wrong, I trust ye’ll bring it to me attention one way or another.”

  “So what is the plan then, Angus?” Duncan asked.

  “Bree will no’ tell me the truth. James and Gillon Randolph are anxiously awaiting me decision. I fear that if I say nay, without good cause, James will do somethin’ stupid and back out of the agreement. So,” Angus said as he looked at both Duncan and Wee William, “I want to enlist yer wives to help.”

  Wee William and Duncan looked at one another before turning back to Angus.

  “I fear Bree willna talk to me or her mum on this. She may however, speak to yer wives. Aishlinn be her sister and Nora a good friend. Mayhap the two of them can find out why Bree is insistin’ on marryin’ Gillon. While they do that, I’ll tell James that I’ll give me answer in five days, before we call an end to the festival. That should buy us time to learn if there is truly is a traitor among us or no’.”

  The men agreed that it was a good plan to start with. Each man would be keeping a close eye on Bree as well as looking for anything out of the ordinary as it pertained to the other chiefs who had signed the peace agreement.

  Nial felt better knowing that Bree would not be marrying Gillon. Aye, he knew he had no chance of his own in gaining Angus’ approval at courting her himself. Although Angus never gave Nial any real reasons for being against such a match, Nial assumed it was because he was nearly seven years older than Bree. He also suspected that his life of debauchery and drinking had just as much to do with it as anything else. Nay, more likely than not, Angus felt his daughter could do much better than Nial.

  Bree was, after all, Angus’ youngest daughter, and more precious to him than breathing. She was a beautiful, sweet, funny lass with a good heart and high spiritedness that one seldom found in women. Those were the qualities that drew Nial to her to begin with.

  As Nial left the war room to head above stairs to his own chamber, he reflected on his own life. Like Bree, Nial had a love of life. But where Bree’s zealousness of life tended to lean toward things such as riding horses, kissing wee bairns, and far more feminine pursuits, Nial’s interests had leaned more toward debauchery and sinful delights.

  He had been made chief of his clan -- much to his own surprise and anguish—just three years past. He had been the second son and had never believed he would someday be the leader of his clan. But when his father and older brother were both killed in battle, the responsibility fell to him.

  Prior to their deaths, Nial had lived a rather spoiled life, coming and going and doing as he pleased without a care in the world. He would often be gone from home for months at a time, working his way across Scotland in a frenzy of bar wenches, drink, and gambling.

  Nial made his way through the dark corridor of the third floor and into his chamber. He stripped off his tunic and trews and climbed into his bed and tried to shrug off the sense of loneliness that had settled over him these past few months.

  Had he known he would have been made chief of his clan, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time lingering between the sheets with one prostitute after another. He would not have drunk or gambled so much. Instead, he would have listened to his father’s good advice, grown up and behaved in a far more honorable manner. He would have spent more time learning from his father than traipsing across the country tossing back whiskey and lifting skirts.

  For three years now, he had done his best to make up for lost time and lack of wisdom. Nial maintained the same council of men that his father had relied so heavily upon. He also relied on Caelen McDunnah’s good sense, even though it was often hidden behind a dark and brooding facade and his love of fighting.

  Nial knew there was far more to his friend than what he let the rest of the world see. Hidden behind the mask of shadows was a man in deep mourning. Caelen’s wife had died in childbed five years past. He had never quite gotten over the loss and Nial doubted that he ever would. Caelen had loved her more than he had ever loved anyone or anything. She had been the love of his life. When she died, she took Caelen’s heart with her, along with a huge part of his soul.

  Prior to becoming chief of his clan, Nial would never have put much stock in love, at least not the kind of love he’d witnessed between Caelen and Fiona.

  Physical love, Nial knew from far too much experience, could be purchased for a few groats.

  Real love, the kind you felt clear to your bones, was not so easily obtained. He reasoned that not everyone could be blessed with that kind of adoration or devotion. But he was willing to settle for something close to it.

  As often happened when he mused on the subject of love and adoration, his mind turned toward Bree McKenna. Aye, she was young that he could not deny. But most lasses her age were already married with one or two babes.

  Bree was different.

  It wasn’t just a physical attraction that he felt toward her. Aye, she was beautiful, there was no denying that fact. But there was so much more to Bree than her long, dark hair and bright green eyes. She never played dumb or coy. She was not afraid to speak her mind nor was she afraid to smile when the mood struck her. Nor was she afraid to give a man a piece of her mind if she thoug
ht him deserving of it. She was a lady, but not so much so that she worried over getting her hands dirty or was afraid to ride a horse astride.

  Nial rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling. The sun would be up in a few hours and there was much to do. Try as he might, his thoughts kept returning to Bree.

  He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Bree thought of him more as a brother or uncle. There was no hope in that ever changing, no matter how much he wished it. What was he to do? He was tired of being alone. He did want someone to share his life with, a fine woman who would help him build his clan, a bonny lass who would happily bear his children.

  While Bree was exactly the woman he wished to hold that position, deep down, he knew she deserved better. She was deserving of someone closer to her own age, someone without his history of whoring and drinking. She deserved a better man, one who could give her more than just his heart.

  Aye, his clan was growing and his lands were finally beginning to prosper. But it would be years before Clan McKee would be able to boast the same successes and prosperity that Clan MacDougall currently held. He could not ask Bree to sacrifice and go without for the next ten or twenty years, just so he could wake up to her sweet smile each morn.

  In his mind, he had settled it: he would begin to look elsewhere for a wife and put all thoughts of Bree McKenna away.

  His heart, however, was an entirely different matter.

  Nora didn’t know if she should be proud or terrified. Proud that Angus trusted her enough to get to the bottom of why Bree was insisting on marrying Gillon Randolph or terrified of failing. She felt a combination of both and mayhap that was why she felt so uneasy and worried.

  Together Nora and Aishlinn sat at Aishlinn’s kitchen table across from Bree. The babe slept peacefully in his cradle near the fire. Nora didn’t know Bree well, but even she could tell the poor girl was heartbroken.

  “Bree,” Nora said as she played with her cup of tea. She was not sure how to get Bree to open up, so she decided to speak to her as if it were Elise sitting across from her. “Are you excited about soon becoming a married woman?”

  Bree was absentmindedly running a finger along her cup “Aye, I suppose so.” Her forlorn expression told Nora the opposite.

  “Do you worry over it? Over being a wife, I mean.”

  Bree shook her head no.

  Nora and Aishlinn looked at one another. Neither of them believed her. She was worried over something and it was up to them to figure out what.

  Aishlinn decided to take a more direct approach. “Do you love this boy? Love him with all your heart? It is the rest of your life we’re talking about, Bree.”

  Bree’s eyes began to water as she continued to stare blankly at her cup.

  “Bree,” Nora said as she gently placed her hand on Bree’s. “I can tell you, from personal experience, that if you do not love this boy, love him with all your heart, you will never be happy. My first marriage was all the proof anyone needs that if you marry the wrong person for the wrong reasons, you will never be happy.”

  Bree swiped away a tear and took a deep breath. “Many marriages start out with neither party knowin’ the other. But over time, they grow a fondness for each other.”

  That was all the evidence that Aishlinn needed. “Did Gillon Randolph tell ye that the only way for peace to happen between the clans is for you to marry him?”

  Bree shrugged her shoulders as if that fact was of no importance.

  “He lied,” Aishlinn said bluntly.

  Bree looked up then, a line of confusion creasing her brow. “Why would he lie over such a thing as that?”

  Connell began to fuss and whimper. Aishlinn went to his cradle and carefully lifted him into her arms. “Who knows why men do what they do, Bree,” Aishlinn answered as she sat down at the table and gently rocked the babe. “But I tell you this, the boy has lied to you.”

  “Mayhap the boy himself is confused on the matter,” Nora interjected. “Mayhap he is only telling Bree what he himself has been told.” She could only hope she was correct. Otherwise, something far more sinister was taking place and that thought made her stomach turn.

  “That is a possibility. But either way, she cannot marry the boy,” Aishlinn said as Connell began to cry loudly. She opened the front of her dress and offered the babe her breast. He quieted instantly as he latched on rather greedily.

  “But what if what he says is true?” Bree asked as she watched her nephew. “What if there is more to everything than the two of ye ken?”

  “Bree,” Nora began, “Gillon’s father has already signed the peace agreement.”

  Bree was growing frustrated as well as angry. She knew she should put her faith and trust in her family, but she worried over what Gillon had told her. An agreement is sometimes not worth the parchment it is written upon. What if he told the truth?

  Nora and Aishlinn sensed there was more that Bree was not telling them.

  “Bree, what has Gillon told you?” Nora asked softly.

  Bree was not sure how much she should tell anyone, least of all Nora and Aishlinn. Gillon had warned her that if she divulged all of what he had told her, war would be immediate. Men would die. Her heart tightened at the thought of losing her father, her brothers, or the man she was falling hopelessly in love with.

  “Bree, has Angus ever done anything that made you doubt or distrust him?” Nora asked.

  Bree gave a little shake of her head. “Nay, he hasn’t.”

  “Then why can you not trust him now? What has happened that makes you doubt that your father will keep you safe?”

  The words slowly tumbled out, along with the tears she’d been trying to hold at bay. “People will die if I don’t marry Gillon! If we don’t join our two clans together, lives will be lost!”

  Nora stood quickly and came around the table. She sat next to Bree and cradled her in her bosom. Patting her back, she tried to soothe away the poor girl’s worries.

  “You’ll save more lives by telling us the truth now, Bree. Marrying Gillon will not stop any bloodshed. In fact, it will cause more.” Aishlinn frowned, not out of anger toward Bree, but toward Gillon.

  He had put the weight of the world on her shoulders with nothing but lies. She knew her sister’s love for her people was the only thing driving her to marry Gillon. It wasn’t love that led her. It was fear. It was a love and fear that Aishlinn was all too familiar with.

  Last year Aishlinn had made the terrible mistake of believing that the only way to stop the English from wiping out her clan was to turn herself over to the Earl of Penrith. That decision nearly cost Duncan his life. Had she put more faith in her father and the men of her clan, more lives would have been saved that day than lost. She would carry the guilt over that decision with her every day for the rest of her life.

  Bree was beginning to feel as though she had been stuffed into a tiny room and the more people talked to her the smaller the room became. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep everything straight in her mind. It was also becoming more difficult to ignore the feelings she had for a certain Highlander.

  What if what Nora and Aishlinn told her was true? What if Gillon had lied? If she married him, she would be giving up any chance at a happy future with a man she genuinely cared for.

  “Why would Gillon lie to me?” she asked to no one in particular.

  Aishlinn took in a deep breath and glanced at Nora. Highlanders and their ways with romance continued to baffle Nora. While Nora could never understand why a man might lie about something, she knew all to well just what some men were capable of.

  “Bree,” Nora said as she gave her another hug. “There are so many good, kind men in your clan. They’re all honorable and honest. Why Gillon lied is not nearly as important as knowing that he did. Please, Bree, do not make the same mistake with Gillon that I made with Horace.”

  Bree studied Nora’s face for a moment. “Was it really that bad with Horace?”

  Nora took a deep br
eath. She felt she was not gaining any ground by speaking. Mayhap showing the girl what a man could do might have a better impact. Nora slowly pulled up the sleeves of her dress and showed Bree the scars on her wrists.

  “Would you like to see the ones on my back?” Nora asked.

  “Or mine?” Aishlinn offered solemnly.

  Bree remembered the condition of Aishlinn’s back when she had first arrived more than a year ago. She didn’t need to see the scars these men had left on the bodies of these kind, beautiful women. It was in that brief moment that clarity dawned and she knew without a doubt, what she must do.

  Twenty-Four

  Nora could feel her husband staring at her from across the courtyard and it brought glorious goose bumps to her skin. She thought it odd, yet exhilarating, to think William capable of making her skin tingle with excitement with only a glance. Married nearly two months now, she no longer worried about being prim and proper, at least not where her husband was concerned. William was quite happy with her free spiritedness, especially when they were alone.

  Nora stood in the courtyard enjoying the company of Aishlinn, Bree, Isobel and Maggy. They were remarking at how much Connell resembled his father and how big he was growing. Isobel was a very proud grandmother and believed Connell to be the most beautiful babe she’d ever seen, next to her own of course.

  Although she’d only known Maggy but a few days, Nora liked her. Maggy was blunt and honest, yet in a way that wasn’t rude. She simply said what was on her mind. It was a trait Nora was beginning to admire and hoped to one day acquire.

  The courtyard was very crowded and hundreds of people were milling about waiting for the next round of games to begin. Although similar festivals were held all across England, Nora had never had the opportunity to experience one herself. She enjoyed the jesters and acrobats, the bards and musicians, but most of all she enjoyed watching her husband as he wrestled and battled with one friendly opponent after another.

  Elise and John soon joined them, happily munching on sweet cakes that Mary had given them. Elise was her usual cheerful and chatty self. Nora didn’t worry much about Elise fitting in for the child had such an outgoing personality and seemed to make friends wherever she went. Nay, she worried less about Elise but more over John.