Chapter 4

The crushed velvet houppelande fell to the floor. Smoothing it down, Nora looked at herself and smiled. The woman in the mirror gazed back, lost.

Since coming here, she did not know who she was anymore. And she had only been here since yesterday. Meeting William had posed her with a problem. An unexpected one. Whereas before, her only thoughts were to dispatch him as quickly as possible, now there was something more.

She had only met the man once. But already, she saw the problem.

She liked him.

A lot.

And that was definitely not part of the plan.

Fluttering her fan furiously, Nora leaned into the mirror and peeked at her reflection. She did not recognize the lady gazing at her so serenely. She just was not someone she had ever met before. Spending the day with him, she had felt herself turn completely. Somehow, everything had changed.

And he had changed it.

Her first glimpse of William had not been what she expected.

He is weak, he is feckless, he is a fop.He is pure hackitt, with dog"s breath.

Everything, in short, that she had heard about William was suddenly blown out of the water. It was all lies. And in its place, new feelings had emerged.

William had charmed her. She had not expected his commanding good looks, red curly hair he kept tied back, the scruff of beard on his strong jawline, nor his clear blue eyes. He was attentive, witty, and fun. He had entertained her and dazzled her to boot.

Now she was so exhausted with her thoughts and had no energy for anything else. Worse still, he had reached her with his eyes. And she couldn"t remember the last time anyone did that.

Glancing about, Nora shivered.

"Ye"re cold, mistress?" the young servant called. "I can stoke the fire."

Distracted, Nora looked up. The Duncan chamber was grand and vast, and in the cold dark of a late spring morning, also chilly. However, Nora shook her head.

""Tis fine, dinnae fash," she said, turning briskly to the dress. Acres of deep green velvet sashayed at her feet. She felt strange. Inside, a tingling in her stomach told her she needed to eat, but the deep knots placed there had stopped her.

Since arriving at the Duncan clan, she had eaten nothing. Grabbing the shawl, she placed it over her shoulders, then, five seconds later, discounted it again. She looked better without it.

The serving lass peered at her unsurely.

"It"s nae a bather," she said, her dull brown eyes pressed upward. She appeared to be checking Nora out. Every time she thought she was not looking, her eyes darted toward her, then when she turned, she dropped them.

"It"s nae a fash," Nora said, without looking.

"Ye"ll make Laird William a blushing bride," ventured the girl, her eyes immediately staring down.

Nora turned her light eyes to her, amused. "Will I?" she said, gathering the enormous houppelande up and turning. It fell to the floor with a rustling sound that Nora found pleasing. But the sudden beating in her heart was less so. A surge of bile rose, burning her chest and throat. The very reminder of her mission here choked her.

"What if he dinnae like me?" Nora asked.

Eyeing herself in the looking glass, Nora gave a little grin, but it was forced and abrasive. In truth, she had not known where that comment had come from. It had slid from her, unseen. Perhaps unguarded.

For a minute, the girl hesitated, unsure. She did not know what to say.

"Ye may run along noo, lassie," she told the wench, who stood frozen to the spot, clutching her white and blue arisaid uncomfortably. It was like she had been turned to stone for watching.

Her eyes arched upward, watching the lassie through the glass. The little look made it clear Nora knew the servant was spying. Embarrassed, the girl scuttled off, leaving Nora face-to-face with herself in the glass.

The girl in the reflection had a secret. It was etched into her face. Looking at herself, Nora wondered if all could see it. Her hair piled on her head, she could hardly believe the look of herself. Hairline plucked and hair cast back into the rolled coif she was wearing, Nora gawped.

She really did look different. That, and the pastes Sorcha had painted onto her cheeks and lips, and she was suddenly illuminated into a woman.

A lady.

"Och, mistress, he cannae fail to find ye beauteous!"

Nora jumped. Sorcha appeared from the back of the room, bustling with a pile of clothes. Disturbed, Nora straightened herself, ruffling her skirts and pretending she was not shaken. She had forgotten Sorcha was there.

"I, um, well, let"s hope!" said Nora nervously.

Fanning herself lightly, she looked again. The glass reflected her gown in all its splendor. Despite the failing light, the greens picked out the shade of her eyes well, igniting the red in her hair.

But right then, it was not the ardor of her intended she was thinking of. It was the mission she had been sent to do.

Heart beating, Nora took a swig of whatever was in the goblet and continued dressing. Instantly, a hot hit of whiskey swirled down, illuminating her cheeks to her ears. Now she looked red.

Braw. Just braw.

Nora frowned. The last thing she needed was to go downstairs looking like a scolded pig.

"Are ye alright, mistress?" Sorcha came up beside her and eyed her keenly. In the mirror, her sharp eyes penetrated, seeming to see inside Nora.

A jolt started inside her. What if Sorcha already knew? Glancing quickly at her lady-in-waiting, Nora felt a pang of fear. What if the truth of her deadly mission was written all over her face? A hot sweat started down Nora"s back, prickling the fabric of her shift. All the same, she managed to keep her voice calm and sweet.

"I"m braw, thank ye, Sorcha," she said in her best imperious voice. She was about to add that she was ready to leave when a knock came at the door.

Sorcha shared a glance with Nora. Nodding, Nora allowed her to answer it. There was not very much she could do not to. But inside, she felt her heart rate rising.

"Och, excuse me, mistress," a woman"s voice tapered into the room.

Getting up, Nora sashayed over toward the door. There was a pretty dark-haired woman, and behind her, another lassie. Slowly, she recognized them as William"s sisters.

The older of the two women spoke first. "Hoo there, mistress. I am Grace, an" this is Fiona. We hope ye are settling in."

Peering in from the threshold, it was clear they hoped to be asked in. Smiling, Nora did, of course, show them inside, where they installed themselves on the chairs beside the bed.

Showing her best manners, Nora curtsied before them.

"Och, dinnae fash," quipped Grace, quite flippantly. She waved Nora"s curtsy away with a massive grin. "We dinnae stand on ceremony here," she said, with a glance to Fiona.

Nora observed Fiona watchfully. Unlike her sister, she did not speak very much and preferred to listen. Nora watched her thoughtfully. Her light green gaze followed her when she was not looking, weighing her up.

Grace, however, was chatty.

"So, what makes ye o" oor humble abode?" she asked wittily, her hazel eyes cutting back to Nora playfully.

Taken unawares, Nora hesitated. "I, um. It is vera impressive an"..."

Nora came to a dead stop. She felt the weight of their eyes upon her. Inside, her heart seemed to speed up. Crossly, she berated herself. It was a perfectly innocuous question, so why couldn"t she answer the sisters" simple entreaty?

"Ye must ha" spent a lot o" coin fixing that castle wall. Last time I saw it, it was in ruins," Nora blurted out. Then she stopped again because the younger of the two, Fiona, was watching her oddly.

For a moment, she thought she might speak, but Fiona just set her light eyes upon her strangely, then turned away. It was left to Grace to put a brave face on things.

Wondering what on earth she had said, Nora"s stomach turned into knots. Grace smiled keenly, but Nora caught the chink in her pose.

"Och, that"s going back a wee while. It hasnae been like that since the clan battles." Her voice tapered away as Fiona caught her eye.

Red-hot mortification descended on Nora. Suddenly, she remembered exactly what had put the dint in Duncan Castle—the Douglas attack.

Swallowing hard, Nora found herself sweating. Swiftly, she tried to move the conversation on but could barely speak.

Fiona looked at her slowly, as if she couldn"t decide if she had meant anything by this. After a long pause and a stiff grin, she said, "Aye, that was mended a long while ago. I dinnae think we need to fash about that."

Nora exhaled. The Douglas attack on the Duncans had come at the end of their bitter war. The ones who had killed her mother...

Despite Fiona"s conciliatory pose, a flush of hot pain gripped her, burning her throat with its acrid flavor. This was unexpected. But perhaps it should not have been. Being here, in the heart of the enemy, was setting off unforeseen reactions. Like in her gut. Inside, Nora was writhing and hurt. Memories surged from out of nowhere.

This was the time when her mother had been killed. Not in the same fight, not even the same place, but the same clan and the same feud. And in Nora"s head, very much the same.

Struck dumb by the horror, Nora just stared.

"Ye alright, hen?"

Grace"s friendly head peered in, bringing Nora back to life. Blinking, she looked about. There she was, head to toe in the drop-down green dress, the rolled headdress fastened snugly to her head.

Nora blinked again, and there were her prospective sisters, Grace and Fiona, looking at her with concern. Their evident worry made her feel quite unwell.

"I-I am braw. Thank ye," she murmured, as Grace pressed forward, watching her intently.

"Ye look a wee bit pale," said Fiona, observing her fully.

Nora felt herself shrink under the full glare of the sisters" stare.

"Och, she is vera bonny," chided Grace, nodding to Nora. "She didnae mean that."

She looked apologetically to Nora.

"Och ye are most beauteous," said Fiona quickly. "I am most pleased that oor brother has such a bonny bride. We are both relieved."

She looked at Grace swiftly. They both nodded.

"An" nae just bonny, but also sweet, an" who will love him," added Grace, smiling.

Nora did not know what to think. She had been blindsided by the pair of them.

"Och, we are both so happy," added Fiona. She kept her eyes pressed down but sounded earnest. Fiona, Nora was learning, was not someone who displayed her emotions easily.

Which made it all so much worse for Nora.

Shyly, Fiona raised her head. Stepping forward, she met her gaze.

"Nora, may I call ye Nora?" she asked, her light eyes shining. It was impossible for Nora to refuse her gaze.

"Och, of course," said Nora uncomfortably. She tried her best to smile naturally. It was not that she had a problem with this, of course. More that she felt nervous being in their presence.

"Well, och, I dinnae ken, it"s just so important that William has someone he can trust," said Fiona, after pacing halfway around the chamber. "The fact is, he is oor wee brother. An" this is the first time he has ever really had anyone serious."

Here, her eyes exchanged with Grace"s again.

"Och, he will kill me for saying it," fiddled Fiona, playing with her hands. "But the fact is that oor brother is delicate."

Grace"s eyebrows shot up. Nora"s nearly fell off her head. The William she had met had not struck her as delicate.

"Really?" said Nora, looking at Fiona unsurely. By the same note, Grace seemed to also question Fiona.

"Aye, really," said Fiona to both of them. There was a little look at Grace for her to back down, which Nora did not understand. "The truth is, he has only just become laird, an" it is a big responsibility for him. An" while I am sure he will succeed in his task, he really does need someone by his side to keep him focused."

Fiona"s light eyes glowed and shone through the pale light. The last traces of the sun had gone, leaving the moon in its place and naught but pale candlelight to light the way.

Nora watched unsurely.

"It is yer job to keep his feet on the ground an" stay focused," said Fiona.

Taken out of context, her words may have seemed like a challenge. Or even a threat. But they were spoken warmly. All the same, the weight of responsibility swirled around. Nora gulped.

"An" stop him from invading England," added Grace. For a moment, her face was cool and blank.

Nora watched, overawed. Then she laughed.

"Och, nae, just do yer best. Heaven kens we couldnae stop him." Grace laughed, as she pulled on Fiona"s arm.

Fiona looked a little put out. "Och, ye"ll scare the lass off," she murmured, before looking at Nora straight on.

"An" ye wilnae?" said Grace. "By expecting her to keep him straight?"

Finding her voice, Nora smiled. "It"s braw. I will take it on. I will do my best."

It was the right thing to say, so why did it feel so hard? Every word seemed to get stuck up in her throat before being spat out. Perhaps she looked nervous. Maybe the sisters sensed something because Fiona looked at her warmly.

"I ken ye will, lassie," she said, coming over and unexpectedly patting her arm. "We ken ye will."

Nora tried to smile but found her eyes filling with tears. What she had not expected was a full-on coordinated act of love.

Beside her, Grace smiled. "Welcome to the family, hen. Ye cannae get rid of us noo."

Nora smiled, panicked. Something sharp pricked her from the inside.

A deep ache was taking her, making her shiver. These lasses loved their brother.

How on earth can I murder him in cold blood?