Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (56 page)

Nora giggled. “I decided that I’ll not let you win. Aye, I might die a horrible death down here, all alone in the dark. But I’ll die knowing that I did nothing wrong and that you are a despicable, perverse man who prefers the company of boys to women. I’ll die knowing you’ll burn in hell someday. That gives me a good deal of satisfaction and makes me want to sing!”

Horace could only conclude that she had lost her mind. She wasn’t
truly
happy—she was insane. It was the only plausible explanation. Oh, she would die in that hole, he was certain of it. Sooner or later, her smile would fade. She could pretend for now not to be worried, not to be fearful. He knew her better than that.

“Bah! You’ve lost your mind, woman! Sing all you want to. It won’t change the fact that I’m up here and you’re down there. It’s your grave you’re singing in.” He rolled his eyes and replaced the plank.

As he walked away, Nora began to sing again. He couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of her gleeful singing made his ballocks shrink. He cursed at her as he walked toward the castle.
I’ll have the last laugh
he swore to himself.

Singing helped to soothe Nora’s worries and to pass the time. She hadn’t expected to see Horace, but found a good deal of satisfaction in the confusion she saw on his face. It made her feel a bit happier knowing she had irritated and confused him. She was quite sure he had stomped off thinking he would have the last laugh. His ignorance, arrogance, and selfishness was going to be the death of him. A tingling sensation came over her when she thought of him finally dying. She couldn’t help herself. Knowing William would eventually arrive and Horace would finally get what was coming to him, brought forth the overwhelming urge to dance happily around the hole.

It won’t be long now, she thought happily. William will be here soon. He’ll take me home.

Settling down, Nora fell asleep with a smile on her face, happy in the belief that William was on his way. For the first time in many days, she actually dreamt of her cottage and flowers blooming across the Highlands, of her husband and John and Elise.

It had taken Wee William and their group two days to locate Gillon and Bree. It had taken only moments to extricate her from Gillon’s encampment.

Gillon had miscalculated several things. Firstly, he misjudged the amount of time required to make it to Bowie lands. While he thought he was safely ensconced in Bowie territory, he was in fact, camped on Carruthers land. Gillon and his band of fools had missed the mark by nearly thirty miles.

Secondly, he had misjudged his accomplices’ fealty. When they had seen the furious Angus McKenna, Wee William, Caelen McDunnah, and Nial McKee along with seventy-five equally furious Highlanders storm into their camp, not one of Gillon’s men stood to fight or defend him. Obviously, Gillon Randolph had not earned enough of their respect or admiration that they were willing to lay down their lives for him.

Thirdly, he misjudged his captive’s tenacity, intelligence, and determination entirely. Bree McKenna was every bit her father’s daughter and she was determined not to be one of Gillon Randolph’s victims.

Nial was the first man to dismount and with sword drawn, he demanded to know the whereabouts of Bree McKenna. The young man to whose throat Nial held the edge of his sword shakily told him she was in the tent with Gillon. Nial shoved the terrified young man to the side and bounded to the tent, threw open the flap and stepped inside.

Nial was beyond furious, his face red with anger, every muscle on full alert, ready to do battle if he must, in order to save Bree. He had been fully prepared to kill Gillon Randolph, either with sword or his bare hands, he didn’t care which. He had not, however, been prepared for the sight before him.

There was Bree, straddled over a prone, gagged and bound Gillon Randolph. She had a sgian dubh in one hand while her forearm was bearing down on the back of his neck. A blend of relief and admiration washed over Nial.

“I see ye have things well in hand,” Nial muttered, as he stood dumbfounded at the entrance of the tent.

Bree had not seen him enter for she had been so focused on making certain Gillon understood that, in no uncertain terms, she would cut off his manly parts before she would ever become his wife. Startled, she raised her head at the sound of Nial’s voice. Nial watched as her shoulders sagged in what could only be relief.

She was a vision of beauty as far as he was concerned. Aye, she was covered in dust and dirt, her dress was torn in several places, and her hair had come loose from its braid.

“Well its about damned time!” she fumed at him, still straddled across Gillon’s back. Gillon jerked his own head around to see to whom she was talking. His eyes were wide with fear and Nial wasn’t sure if it was his presence that caused it, or the fact that Bree still held her sgian dubh next to his throat.
 
“What the bloody hell took you so long?” she demanded.

Nial didn’t know which he wanted to do more at the moment. Chastise her for getting herself into this mess to begin with, argue with her over her lack of gratitude, or scoop her into his arms and plant a passionate kiss on those lovely lips. He laughed in spite of himself.

“I do apologize, lass, if we took too long. It will no’ happen again, I can assure ye that,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Bree climbed off Gillon’s back and stood, kicking him once in his side for good measure. Gillon grumbled something indiscernible, but Nial was certain it was nothing that should be said in front of a lady.

Bree rolled her eyes and kicked him again. “Haud yer wheesht ye eejit! I’m still thinkin’ on whether or not I should let ye keep yer man parts.”

Bree then turned her attention back to Nial. “And what do ye mean
it won’t happen again?
” she asked as she returned her sgian dubh to the waist of her dress.

Nial uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. He was about to say something that he never thought he’d say to any woman, let alone Bree McKenna. “Because when ye become me wife, I shall assign guards to watch over ye, all the hours of the day. Save fer when yer with me. Then I shall be the one guardin’ ye and keepin’ ye out of trouble.”

Bree’s eyes widened. She was just as surprised to hear Nial speak in such a manner as he was to say the words aloud. She swallowed hard, brushed the wayward strands of hair away again. “Me marry ye? Ye canna be serious!”

Nial nodded his head and took another step forward. Bree could not retreat unless she walked over Gillon.

“Aye, lass, I am serious. I’m goin’ to make ye my wife if it’s the last thing I do.”

Bree laughed nervously. “Well then there be no sense in marryin’ ye if ye do no plan on stickin’ around afterward. I mean, if marryin’ me is the last thing ye do, then why do it?”

Nial took another step toward her, his smile growing larger. “Good, then it will no’ be the last thing I do. I’ll marry ye.”

Bree laughed again with the belief that he could not possibly be serious. Aye, she had grown quite fond of him, what with his broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and those odd colored gray green eyes of his. Never before had she considered him attractive or anything more than a very good friend. But that had changed somehow, on that day not long ago when she had run into him in the hallway. Something dramatic had happened in that tiny moment of time. It was as though she were looking at him for the very first time.

It had been his braw smile and the twinkling in his eyes when he had looked at her that made her legs feel weak. Aye, she had seen Nial smile many times and had even witnessed the sparkle in his eyes on numerous occasions. Bree could not begin to fathom or understand what exactly had changed in that moment. But something had. Mayhap it was the first time she had really
looked
at him, with her heart as well as her eyes.

“Ye jest, Nial McKee. Ye canna jest about such a serious thing as marryin’.”

Nial was close enough now that he could kiss her if he chose to. “I would never jest about such a serious subject as marriage.”

Nial knew her heart was beating rapidly, for he could see it in that little spot on the base of her throat. However, he thought his own beat faster.
 
He searched her eyes, looking for some sign that she too might be feeling the way he was feeling. Though there was little light inside the tent, Nial could see that her eyes were moist. His heart skipped a beat or two for he couldn’t be certain if it was fear he saw looking back at him or something else.

Bree licked her lips and held her breath for a moment before speaking again. “Yer certain ye want me as a wife?”

Nial nodded his head.

“Has me father warned ye that I can be a handful at times?” she asked as she leaned her head back a bit further in order to see his face more completely. His smile returned and she discovered that it made her toes tingle.

“And has he warned ye that I tend to talk a bit more than most?”

Nial nodded his head again. “I’ve kent ye fer years, lass. I ken yer faults well.”

Bree tilted her head as her brow creased. “Faults? Ye think me talkin’ a fault? What other faults do ye find in me Nial McKee?”

Nial reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Many,” he said as he continued to smile. “Ye talk too much. Ye have a tendency to interfere with other people’s lives, like ye did with Aishlinn and Duncan. And ye have a remarkable way of gettin’ yerself into trouble.” He motioned toward Gillon Randolph who lay still on the floor.

Bree snorted. “Then why on earth do ye want to marry me?”

Nial answered her question with a kiss. Sweetly, tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers as he folded her into his arms. He was relieved as well as elated when Bree returned his kiss and wrapped her hands around his neck.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to marry ye because ye are a most beautiful young woman. And, ye be the only woman I ken that could find a way to bind and gag a man much taller and stronger than yerself.”

Bree giggled and took a deep breath. “It wasna easy to do. Mayhap ye should keep that in mind in the future. If I ever find the need to do the same to ye, I will.”

The mental image of Bree trying to overpower him and wrestle him in to submission was a delightful one. He had to restrain the urge and desire to carry her away and find Father Michael.

“Have ye asked me da and mum yet? Fer me hand?”

“No’ yet, but I will, if yer agreein’ to it.”

Bree bit her bottom lip and pretended to think on it. “Aye, I think I’d be agreein’ to it.”

It was then that Gillon Randolph began to wriggle around and mumble and they noticed that Angus had entered the tent. Bree caught sight of her father as he stood rolling his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he mumbled before exiting the tent.

Bree laughed as she gave Nial a hug. “I think da kens our intentions now.”

Nial sighed heavily and broke the embrace. “Aye, he’s kent fer some time how I feel about ye. He has always denied me. Mayhap now that we’re both in agreement, he might finally agree to it.”

A very wry smile formed on Bree’s lips. “He’ll agree to it.”

Nial ran a hand through his hair. “How can ye be so certain?”

Bree winked at him. “Do no’ fash yerself over it. I can be very convincin’ when I need to be.”