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?”
“I suppose, if you wish to call it that.” The carpenter shrugged his broad shoulders and a smile lifted his ruddy cheeks. “It pleases my wife.”
“Ah, say no more.” Grinning, Liam returned the figure to its place and joined Domnall and Will.
He inspected the wood shavings scattered over the tabletop and the partially carved piece Domnall worked with at present. He lifted the small figure and a laugh bubbled out of him when he made out a pair of curled horns. “’Tis a good likeness.”
The big man chuckled. “I caught a glimpse of your tangle with the ram.”
From a room off the rear of the cottage, a young man, closer to Will’s age, stepped out. Though, ’twas the only comparison the two youths shared. The lad was almost twice Will’s breadth. Saints alive, Domnall must’ve married a great, hulking woman.
The carpenter waved the lad over to the table. “This is my son, David. Son, you know Will already. This is Laird MacGregor.”
Liam said, “Oh, I’m not—”
“Pleased to meet you, Laird.” David extended his huge hand for a shake, which Liam warily accepted.
“The pleasure is mine, David.” ’Twas a mercy the lad released his hand without crushing his fingers.
“If you’ll excuse me, I promised my mother and some of the women I’d help move trestle tables for the feast.”
“Ah, there’s a good lad.” Domnall thwacked his son’s back with a heavy hand, sending him on his way. Settling in a sturdy chair opposite of Liam and Will, he peered between them. “Now, what can I do for the two of you?”
Will leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Well, MacGregor had the idea to build a water wheel here in the village. We’d hoped you might be up to the task.”
“A water wheel, eh?” Interest sparked in the man’s light green eyes. “I’ve seen a few in my time.”
“Think you could construct one?” Liam queried.
Domnall rose from his seat and moved to a small, side table tucked in the corner. Opening a drawer, he produced a sheet of vellum, an ink pot and quill which surprised Liam more than the man’s substantial mass. ’Twas rare for villagers to own parchment and ink. Much less, know how to read and write.
The carpenter returned to the table and unplugged the pot, dipping the reed stick in the ink. Within a matter of minutes, the man scrawled out a rough design of a water wheel.
Nodding in satisfaction, Domnall agreed. “Aye, I could do it or at least, I’m willing to try. I’ll speak to the blacksmith and stone-hewer first and see if they can craft the pieces I’ll need for the millstone to work properly. It’ll take a good bit of lumber as well. I’m certain a few of the larger lads in the village can help with the task.”
Pleased with the carpenter’s knowledge and enthusiasm, Liam reached out to shake the man’s big hand. “You have my thanks, Domnall. Please let me and Will know what we can do to help.”
“How soon are you hoping to have it done, my lord?”
“If you’re up to the task, as soon as possible.”
A wide grin split the other man’s face. “Then I suppose I should get to work.”
Once they bid farewell and departed the carpenter’s cottage, Liam remarked to Will, “Well, that was much easier than I imagined.”
“Why should it have been difficult?” Will glanced at him. “Domnall’s an excellent builder and prefers to keep busy. With little to do around the village of late, I suspected he would not hesitate to take on the project. I assure you, his work will not disappoint you.”
The clever young man’s insight astounded Liam. ’Tis truth, Will would make a fine laird one day. Of course, another matter stood at the forefront of Liam’s mind. He’d not forgotten the lad and Nora’s reactions at the evening meal, nor had he forgotten Beatrice’s actions.
Barring the wretched maid whom he’d handle himself, he asked, “Has any of the clan troubled Nora further?”
The lad shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Though, she would not tell me if any of them did. You must’ve noticed by now she tends to keep to herself.”
“Aye, why’s that?”
“Her past, I guess.” Will shrugged. “Too many things have happened to make her cautious of everyone. Granted, with good reason.”
Liam cut a probing stare at Will, eager to pry more details from the young man. At once, the lad stiffened as if he regretted opening his mouth. Narrowing his gaze, Liam prodded deeper.
“Tell me, how did you come to know of water wheels?”
Staring at the ground as they strolled along the village pathway, the young man’s dark brows tugged low with a frown. “Geordie’s clan had one.”
“Geordie?” Liam questioned. “Ah, the old man. I did not know the three of you hailed from another clan. I thought you were Frasers?”
Will flourished a hand in front of him as if to explain. “Distant relation to Fraser.”
Liam’s step faltered slightly. Distant relation?
Nay, now that was simply untrue. He’d known Fraser his entire life. The man’s distant relations spanned to his niece Arabella, who’d wed Calum, and her brother, Iain, a powerful English lord with a substantial holding of his own in the north of England.
Distant relation, his right foot. “Which clan would that be?”
“I’m sure you would’ve never heard of them,” Will mumbled.
“Oh? Mayhap, I have. I’ve met quite a few over the years.”
Will stumbled to a halt, and Liam paused to glance over his shoulder at the youth. The stricken look on the young man’s face bordered on panic, which raised the hair at the Liam’s nape. Guilt jabbed at him for pushing the lad.
“Will, I should not—”
“Please, my lord. There are things I cannot explain. Not because I do not wish to, but merely because it would upset Nora if I let loose certain details. Can we let the matter rest at that for now?”
The forthright admission raised far more questions and concerns, but he understood the lad’s desire to protect his sister. Liam would’ve done much the same for his own kin. At some point, however, he wished Nora would confide her secrets to him and allow him to bear some of the burden she carried.
Nodding his understanding, he cuffed the youth’s shoulder. “Aye, Will. I did not mean to pry.”
“No need to apologize. Truly, I wish I could say more. ’Tis a duty, in truth.” A slow smile lifted the young man’s lips. “Mayhap, if you toil harder with your pursuit of my sister, you shall get the tale from her soon enough.”
Liam’s head jerked. “What?”
His limp was barely noticeable for the mo
ment. Will carried on along the dirt footpath toward the cottage he shared with his sister, leaving Liam standing behind like a fool to frantically decipher the meaning of the lad’s words.
“Hey, get back here!” he yelled after the boy. “What the devil does that mean?”
Had Nora spoken of him to her brother?
“Nay, I’ve said enough,” Will called over his shoulder.
Laughter trailed after the lad, mounting Liam’s growing frustration. Much to Liam’s chagrin, the blasted, clever young man had spun the situation in his favor.
Chapter Thirteen
Stifling a yawn, Nora squinted her eyes against the midday sun and hoisted the three sizeable lidded baskets she carried higher in her arms to steady the load. Unable to peer around the bulky carriers, she slowly made her way from the forest to the village green. Every ten paces or so, she questioned her stubborn aversion to requesting aid. In that instant, she’d gladly welcome another set of hands to help with the cumbersome bundle.
Then again, she could’ve simply made three separate trips from the woods. Resigned, she blew stray hairs from her eyes and took her time crossing the meadow, careful not to trip and spill the flowers she’d spent the better part of the morn gathering. Saints, she was weary to the bone.
Of course, the blame she laid solely on Liam.
After his thoughtful gesture and searing kiss, sleep eluded her for the remainder of the night. Instead, she’d lain awake, gazing at the fading embers in the hearth while Will’s faint snores droned in her ears. Over and over in her mind, she recalled their brief encounter in her garden beneath the full moon. More especially, the feel of his lips on hers.
Alas, far too soon, the sun inched over the horizon to peek through her small cottage window. Somehow, she managed to shake off her weariness and drag herself from bed to attend her duties. However, had she not promised the women in the village she’d gather enough flowers to decorate the trestle tables for the upcoming feast, then she might’ve slumbered abed a wee bit longer.
My Steadfast Love (Highland Loves Book 2) Page 13