The Clan MacDougall Series (149 page)

“Do I dream husband, or are you truly here?” she asked him sleepily.

He choked back his tears and tried to remain as calm as he could. She was dying and he’d be damned if he’d make her last moments on this earth painful. “Aye, lass, I am here.”

“Well, it’s about time,” she mumbled against his chest.

Wee William shook his head and tried to find some humor in her words. He hurt too much and could not find it within himself to laugh. “I am so sorry, Nora.”

Nora tried opening her eyes again. The bright light of the sun stung. “Is that the sun I see?”

Wee William nodded his head and murmured aye, it was.

“It feels good. So very warm. Like you.”

He could not speak, could not find the right words to respond. He simply held her close and choked back the pain.

“I dreamt about you William. All the while I was in that hole. I wish we had not fought.” She took another deep breath before letting it out slowly. “It feels good to be out of there. I knew you would come for me.”

Wee William swallowed back the bile that was forming in his throat.
But I did no’ get to ye in time,
he thought.

Nora struggled to sit up, but Wee William would not allow it. “Rest now, lass.”

“What happened? Did you find Horace?”

Och! Why must her last thoughts be of Horace?
He supposed she would find some comfort in knowing that finally, the son of a whore had been dealt with properly. “Aye,” he whispered. “He burns in hell as we speak lass.”

Nora tilted her head up and opened her eyes. She was trying to read his face, to see if he told the truth or if by chance he was lying about that again. “You swear it? You do not lie just to make me feel better?”

Wee William gave a shake of his head. “Nay, I do no’ lie, I swear it. I killed him meself. His blood still lingers upon me sword. Ye’ll no’ need to worry about him ever again.” He could give her the peace of mind she needed before death claimed her. That was the least he could do for her.

“So I am a widow?”

Wee William chuckled softly. She still worried whether or not they were married properly. “Lass, I told ye the truth. I had Father Michael annul yer marriage to Horace. We were married proper.”

Nora’s brow creased as she scrutinized her husband. “I think I would feel better if Father Michael married us again.”

His chest tightened painfully. He was certain she would not live through the afternoon, let alone long enough to return to Gregor for another ceremony. The fact that she still wanted to be married to him lifted his spirits. Wanting to make her last moments as comfortable and beautiful as possible, he agreed. “Aye, we can do that, lass. Anything ye want.”

Nora closed her eyes and snuggled against his chest again. “Thank you William. Please, take me home now so that we can marry again.”

He remained silent, rubbing her back with his hand. Several moments of silence passed.

“William?”

“Aye lass?”

“Can we please leave now?”

Wee William chuckled softly again. Even as she lay dying she could bring a smile to his face. “Why are ye in such a hurry to return home?”

Nora sighed. “It is very important to me William, that we marry again.”

Wee William drew her away from his chest and stared down at her. “Why be it so important?”

She sighed again before her lips began to curve upward ever so slightly. “Because I don’t want our babe born a bastard.”

Wee William blinked back his tears and gave his wife a fond, loving smile.
Bairns. Even now she thinks of bairns.
“Wheesht lass, ye need to rest. Now is no’ the time to be thinkin’ of bairns.”

Nora opened her eyes and lifted her head and smiled at him. “Well, better now than in seven months when I’m telling you to fetch Isobel.”

He supposed it would not be long now before death claimed his beautiful wife for she was now delirious. He would have given her as many bairns as she wanted. It pained him to think she would never have the chance to carry a child or to be a mother.

“William, what on earth is the matter with you?” She struggled to sit up but his hold on her was too tight.

How could he tell her that she was dying? He couldn’t have choked the words out if someone had put a dagger to his throat.

Wee William had been so distraught with thinking she was dying in his arms that he had not noticed the color had returned to her cheeks or that her voice had grown stronger. Nora tried to wriggle out of his firm hold. Exasperated, she gave up.

“William, what is wrong?” She began to fret and worry that something had happened to Elise or John and he didn’t have the courage to tell her.

“Has something happened to Elise? To John?” She began to struggle against his strong arms again. Frustrated, she punched him in his shoulder with her fist.

“Lass, ye must save yer energy!” Wee William admonished her.

Nora was as confused by her husband as she had ever been. His response over learning she was carrying his babe was not what she had expected. Of course, she couldn’t be completely certain until they returned to Gregor and Isobel had the opportunity to examine her.

She had missed her last two courses and she had been throwing up for days. At first, she thought it had been the stress of being taken from her family, her husband and her home, that had brought on the nausea. However, at some point, while still being held as Horace’s prisoner, she had figured out that it was quite possibly more than just stress and worry. She had started feeling quite unwell days before Horace stole her away.

Wee William finally let loose his hold and allowed her to sit. The expression he wore was quite baffling. Nora was certain he had been crying for his eyes were red and puffy, and tiny white trails lined his cheeks. He looked as though someone had just died. The only thing she could think of was her earlier supposition that something had happened to either John or Elise. Panic set in as she scrambled to her feet.

“William, you must tell me what is wrong, this very moment!” She felt dizzy and lightheaded when she stood. Had Wee William not reached out and caught her, she would have fallen to the ground.

“Nora, ye are no’ well! Ye must lie back down now, and rest!” It was then that he finally noticed her rosy cheeks. Certainly a woman who was dying would not have rosy cheeks. And she wouldn’t be able to stand up, let alone yell at him, would she?

Wee William held her at arm’s length, a thousand different thoughts and emotions running through his head and his heart. So many that he was unable to grasp a single one. He appraised his wife, taking the time to look her up and down, still uncertain that he could believe what his eyes were showing him.

“Nora?” he said her name disbelievingly. “How? I—ye—” He was quite unable to form any kind of sentence.

Nora stared back at him from shaky legs and a muddled head. “William, please, tell me what is the matter. Has something happened to Elise or John? To Aishlinn?”

“Nay, they are all well,” he answered with a quivering voice. He blinked and shook his head as if it would help to clear his mind and focus better on his wife.

“Then why do you look as though someone has just died?” she asked. She gave him no time to answer as a sudden, even more horrifying thought flashed in her mind.

“It is the babe,” she began. “You do not want the babe? I thought you wanted lots and lots of babes, William. That’s it, isn’t it? You are upset that I want to marry again. You’re upset that I carry your babe. I can’t believe this, William! We talked about this, even before we married!”

Awareness of what his wife was trying to tell him hit him with as much force as a wall of bricks falling on his head. He felt his legs begin to wobble and his head began to spin out of control. She was not dying and she was carrying his babe. His babe. He was going to be a father.

He held on to his wife’s shoulders so that he wouldn’t collapse. Nora was going to be fine, praise God! And he was going to be a father.

Wee William took several steadying breaths as his wife continued to talk. She was warning him that it was his fault she was with child to begin with.

“You cannot join with your wife two or three times a day, every day, and not expect a babe to be the result of it! I do not care one whit William, if you are happy about this or not! You will marry me again. My child will not be born a bastard because of, well, whatever it is that is going on in that thick, Scottish, man head of yours!”

There was no way to contain the overwhelming sense of joy. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. He pulled her into his chest and began to kiss her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and her lips.

“Nora, I am sorry,” he told her between kisses and chuckles. “I thought ye were dyin’, ye were so cold and pale and shakin’. I didna think ye’d survive this day lass. Now, here ye stand before me, tellin’ me ye carry me babe. Nothin’ lass, could make me happier!”

Nora’s shoulders slumped with relief. In the back of her mind she heard the echo of Aishlinn’s words, explaining that Highlanders were good honorable men, a little stupid and at times, and slightly tetched. Nora realized Aishlinn was correct in her description of Highlanders.

Nora smiled brightly as her husband smothered her with kisses, checked her over again from head to toe to make certain she was in fact quite well. He prattled on about how happy and proud he was and how much he loved her. His hazel eyes sparkled and twinkled in the late afternoon sun and she noticed that it must have been days since he had last shaved.

Wee William of Dunshire was a very honorable, funny, and handsome man. He was a giant of a man, a good man who was going to make a very good father to their children.

Nora continued to smile and only half listened to him as he retrieved their horse and promised he would have her home soon and she could bathe and eat and sleep in their big, warm bed. She took note of the twinkle in his eye and knew exactly where that last thought had taken him.

She made her own quiet plans as he mounted his horse and lifted her up to settle on his lap. When they returned to their little cottage, she’d like to spend the next week alone with her husband. It had been quite some time since they’d loved one another.

Nora tried to listen to him, but her mind flooded with the memory of the day Wee William had come into her life. It felt like ages had passed since they’d taken that first journey from Penrith to Scotland. She recollected how drastically her life had changed in these past months.

“And do no’ worry if it be a girl child ye have, I’ll love her just as much as I would a son. And do no’ worry that the babe will be too big, like me. Me mum will tell ye that I was a verra wee babe. So wee in fact that they worried that I’d no’ live to see me first birthday.” He gave her a gentle hug as he urged the horse forward.

Nora had to suppress the urge to laugh aloud as he continued to talk about their babe.

Aye, he may be a little dumb and more than just slightly tetched. But he’s mine and he loves me and I’m his woman.

Eight Months Later

U
ntil the moment he saw his babe for the very first time, Wee William of Dunshire was wholeheartedly unprepared for the love a father feels for his babe. That unconditional, amazing, and strong bond increased a thousand fold when he set his eyes upon the
second
babe, right before he fell into the chair next to his wife’s bed. God’s teeth!

Two babes. One each. And they were very tiny, just as he had once been.

Isobel and Aishlinn had helped his wife bring his two beautiful babes into the world. Unfortunately for Nora, she had not had as easy a time as Aishlinn had experienced. Nay, it took Nora two full days to birth her first babe, a son, then surprisingly not long after that, his sister.

His beautiful wife now lay in their bed, smiling as if it had been the easiest thing in the world to do. Wee William knew better. Nora had not cried out in agony, hadn’t cursed him to the devil and back again, nor had she otherwise fussed. Throughout it all, she displayed a quiet strength, not, he remarked, unlike a Highland warrior in battle. It wasn’t until the very end, when it was time to push, that she made more than just a slight moan. When he had heard that blood-curdling cry come from his wife, he felt the blood rush from his head. It was almost too much for his heart to bear.

Now Wee William held his son and daughter in his arms as he sat on the bed next to his wife. Isobel had reassured him at least a dozen times that Nora was doing very well, as were his babes. He could not get over just how wee and tiny they looked or felt in his arms.

His son began to fuss and cry while his daughter slept on as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Gently, Wee William handed the boy over to Nora. The babe quieted the moment he latched on to his mother’s breast.

“I knew that if I had a boy, he would have an appetite like his father’s,” Nora smiled down at her son and caressed his cheek.

Life was a wonder at times. One day you believe you have nothing to call your own, and before you know it, you have a family.
Family
, Wee William mused, was the most important thing a man could have. It was more precious than gold or silver. Nay, a man couldn’t put a price on the value of a family.