Chapter 15

The sun climbed the skies in the Duncan estate, etching its blades into William"s scorched eyes. He had awoken early, stunned by the light. Blinking gradually, he had fought himself to wake. Everything was intense—the song of the birds in the rafters, the breeze rustling in the trees. Branches near the window brought their scent with a promise of summer in the air.

He came to slowly, drinking in the scents. His dream had been delicious; Nora and he getting wed. And when he had awoken, he realized, with pride, that it was all real!

With a head full of summer, he rose. The day filled with promise stretched out before him. Finally, it was here. His wedding day was dawning.

The morning had passed like a dream. Fitting his brand-new plaid, he had assembled, ready and full of joy, in the packed great hall. Everybody was waiting; the clan counselors and the elders all in the top rows; by their side, his sisters, their husbands, and all their children beaming, smiling.

"I"ve nae seen ye smile so much," Fiona had teased him, as she did up his plaid. On his shoulder was the clan brooch, twisted and gleaming, with the deep inset jewels within it. In his sporran, a second one, fashioned especially for Nora.

And beamed, William had. It was true, he was brimming with happiness. But even so, nerves jangled in the pit of his stomach. They were all there from the clan and the clans nearby.

Not to mention the Douglas clan. Only Laird Douglas and the representative from the Douglas clan were at the great hall. Sorcha was about to bring the bride into the great hall. If he"d thought about it for a bit longer, maybe it was a little strange. But right then. William hadn"t, too buoyed up in the day and its excitement.

"Och, he wasnae this made up even when he invaded the Sassenachs!" Alasdair had laughed. And William had laughed, too. They were all there at the top of the clan, with the guests looking on, and his heart had swelled with pride. He could not even believe that someone like Nora would agree to marry him. Fondly, he thought of the match his parents had made all those years ago.

"I will honor them, an" her," he said, in a rare, quiet moment, as Alasdair waited beside him at the front of the hall. "I am blessed that I am destined with such a good match!"

The murmurings in the hall had grown loud. Fueled by wine, hearty drams, and lots of singing, a festive atmosphere had broken out. Behind them, the fiddlers had been playing, entertaining the crowd. All around, the expectation had built.

And then, a crack of uncertainty.

Widely, the hall doors flung out. William craned his head, searching for the first glimpse of his intended. His heart and his head were in tangles. He had probably consumed too many drams. At first, he was merry but by then a little woozy.

"She"s takin" her time," William noted. He did not know what the time was, just that he had been here for an awfully long time. But then again, maybe it just felt like it. He had never gotten married before.

Smiling, Alasdair had glanced at him. But even he looked unsure, and, William noted, his eyes kept darting to the door, waiting for Nora to make an entrance. Yet, it never happened. The door opened, revealing a servant, bowed and sheepish for causing a stir. Swiftly, they passed with their flagons of whiskey.

The servant started offering refreshments to the unsettled crowd. Now folk were growing impatient; people were looking, whispering, pointing. William felt his heart grow cold but allowed the servant to recharge his cup. Taking a sip, he felt the bitter flame go down.

What is happening? Where is she?

Gently, Alasdair touched his shoulder.

"Dinnae fash," he murmured. "She"ll be coming."

Just then, the doors opened again. This time, cheering. Everyone in the room burst into sound. Once again, the fiddlers recommenced playing, this time starting up the clan anthem. But then, confusion; a flurry of talking overwhelmed the hall.

The players paused on their note.

Murmurs rising, William looked about. A lone figure pushed through the crowd. Slowly, William picked her out.

It was not Nora.

Sorcha"s gray presence unnerved him. Warily, she slinked through the hall as artful as a fox. It was clear she was uncomfortable.

Alasdair looked up. They all did. In his panic, William saw all the heads turning. The hairs on William"s neck began to prick up. This was not good.

Sorcha came closer. "M"Laird," she said, with a quick curtsy.

William felt his heart rate increase. Swallowing it down, he attempted to sound cool.

"Aye," he said guardedly.

"M"Laird, can we go somewhere a wee bit quiet?"

The lady"s eyes flashed at him plaintively. For the first time, William noticed their strange gray color. All of her seemed to be gray, from her hair to her plaid. William blinked. Perhaps it was white, but in this light, he could not tell.

"I-I am busy, Sorcha," said William in the understatement of the century.

Beside him, Alasdair raised a brow. "If ye cannae see, he is getting wed," hissed his friend, his pale blue eyes connecting with Sorcha"s. Usually only one look of this sort was needed for servants to take the hint, but Sorcha was not a servant. Exactly.

Sadly, she shook her head.

"Nay, sir, he isnae. At least I dinnae think he is any time soon." She lowered her tone, reserving her words for William and no one else. "I cannae find her. Nora is naywhere to be seen."

At the time, her eyes flashed to Laird Douglas. But William did not notice it. He was too busy trying to fathom what she had said.

"W-What?" was all he could manage to utter.

Sorcha eyed him kindly. "Sir, please, come. We will look in her chambers."

Once again, she glanced at her laird. He was there, in the front row of the hall. All of them were seated, waiting. Despite his feelings, William paid heed to what Sorcha said.

"Och, alright," he said, his urgency rising. He was trying very hard to keep his feelings under wraps, but they were boiling. "But I am sure there is nay need. I will look most foolish if Nora arrives an" I am nae there!"

William followed Sorcha as Alasdair instructed McTavish, the gnarled and ravaged clan elder of the Duncans, to make some excuses to the crowd. Hotly, William bolted out of the crowded, packed hall into a side chamber. There, Sorcha was pale and wan.

"Tell me, Sorcha, what is this?" William asked directly, as the pale sun filtered into the tiny chambers.

Sorcha looked unwell. For a moment, she paused, then shook her head.

"In all truth, sir, I dinnae ken. I just ken that Nora isnae here."

"Impossible," said William, refusing to believe it. Of course, in his heart, he did. He didn"t want to, but he did. All the same, he followed Sorcha to Nora"s chambers. There, he flung the door open with nary a knock.

"Nora!" he yelled, although looking at the empty chambers, it was more than clear that she was not there.

Worse than that, all her things were gone.

Frantically, Sorcha had followed him into the sun-drenched room she had mentioned plaintively.

"The bed, sir, it hasnae been slept in." Sorcha indicated the majestic bed, still sumptuously made up.

William was just about to scoff when he noticed something. Laid out on the front of the bed was a long, purple robe.

His mother"s robe. The one he had given Nora to wear.

Her wedding dress.

"All her things have gone," said Sorcha needlessly. Her steely gray hair wisped out lightly from her coif. For someone normally cold and composed, she looked like a mess.

"An" I checked in the stables; her horse isnae there," added the woman.

William did not listen. He kneeled on the bed, taking the wedding robe in his cupped hands. Leaning, he smelled it deeply. The velvet still held her scent. A strange pain enveloped him. She was gone, there was no doubt.

Behind him, he was vaguely aware of Alasdair, and maybe Fiona, standing there. Both of them entered the room but were not speaking. All eyes were firmly on him. But he had eyes only for Sorcha. She knew something. It was etched over her uneasy face.

"Where is she?"he demanded, anger leaping to the fore. It was bubbling inside. He could feel himself unwinding.

But Sorcha shook her head. "Sir, I truly dinnae ken. I wish I did!" the woman almost sobbed at him.

Relenting, William changed tack, as behind him, Fiona stepped forward. William silenced her with the wave of a hand as he nodded at Sorcha.

"Sorcha, please, I beg o" ye, anything ye ken..."

Sorcha"s eyes flitted from side to side. William could see she was battling with herself. What she said took some time, and it obviously was hard for her to say it.

"I only ken that she was upset the other night when, after Lady Fiona an" Mistress Grace visited her."

William"s eyes instantly widened, and he turned to Fiona. Before Fiona could speak, Sorcha shook her head.

"Nae by them, but by him," she added, then cast her light eyes down as if she had said too much.

By now, William was furious. "Him, who?" he bellowed. Inside, a terrible thought took him. With a chill in his heart, he immediately blurted, "Another man? Is that it?"

William could not believe he was saying it. In his horror, his face turned to Alasdair, who just stared. But Sorcha shook her head.

"Nay, nay, sir. There isnae another man. Only her father, the laird…" Sorcha"s voice trailed off quietly. She did not say anything further as the door opened.

And standing there was Laird Douglas.

* * *

The laird stood there,beaming, but it was a false smile stretched thin across his red face. Oblivious to the growing atmosphere, the laird swaggered into the room, his gray hair flailing crazily in all directions.

"Soo, then, where"ve ye got her?" He looked around, taking in the startled faces. William watched him, unsure.

Undeterred, Laird Douglas carried on. "Come on, noo, where"s the silly wee hen hiding?"

The laird stomped in, each step making a scraping sound on the polished wooden floor. Expectantly, he looked around. "Well?"

Silence filled the room. "Nora, hoo!"

William looked at him like he was mad.

"She"s nae here," he snapped.

Behind him, Alasdair murmured, and he felt his hand on his shoulder, trying to guide him. Roughly, William threw it off.

His eyes leveled with Douglas"s. Unsurely, he watched him.

"Gone, ye say?" said Douglas, stopping for a moment. "Och, nay, she"s just having a wee bit o" fun wi" ye, lad!"

William blinked. "This doesnae feel like fun, sir," he said plaintively.

The laird just shrugged. "Och, ye ken, a wedding day is a lass"s prerogative. She"s just keeping us on oor toes, lad!" he insisted, but when William looked, his face told another story. Instead, he was hotly scrutinizing poor Sorcha, who almost turned to stone beneath his gaze.

He"s lying,thought William grimly.

"Like I said, sir, she"s gone. Her horse has gone, an" her things," William indicated the vacated chamber. The only trace of Nora anywhere was in the crushed purple houppelande still strewn on the bed. Once again, William"s heart fell.

Now the laird cast his head about. He saw the empty chamber. His face changed again.

"Nora?" he asked, with a look like granite.

But William was not intimidated. He set his bright blue eyes upon him and then scoffed, "Aye, gone!"

There was a pause. William watched Laird Douglas"s face closely. He needed to know exactly what was going on. This man knew something, but what? A ripple passed through Laird Douglas"s face. Something like rage surfaced, then it was gone again.

"Well, what have ye done wi" her?" he said, sounding mildly panicked for the first time.

William met him with an unwavering gaze. "I was hoping ye could tell me."

There was a tense pause. Fiona tugged his sleeve, beginning to talk, but William did not listen. Tersely, he shooed her away.

"Begone!" he cried. "All o" ye."

His eyes flashed from side to side. Alasdair eyed him anxiously, but Fiona shook her head.

"Nay," she said softly. Now the laird was beginning to turn. Pacing around the bedchamber, he squinted at William.

"Well, I dinnae ken where"s she"s gone," said the laird shortly.

Now William noted the signs of some genuine feeling. William felt his stomach twist.

The laird turned on him sharply. "What have ye done to make her leave?"

William narrowed his eyes. "What makes ye say she"s left?"

The laird huffed and puffed some more. He stomped around in a semicircle before answering him. "Och, "tis obvious the wee mare has got cold feet."

William thought back to the Nora of the previous night. She looked anything back cold, then.

Witheringly, he looked at the laird. "Ye sure ye didnae upset her yerself in some way?" he asked, then his eyes followed him across the bedchamber as the laird shied away.

"Me? Upset her? Whoever told ye that?" he said, but his eyes darted everywhere, refusing to connect with him.

William knew then that it was true.

"Sorcha," said William, glancing at her.

The gray lady almost shrank into the woodwork, fading under Douglas"s glow. For just a moment, William felt bad for her. Then, he hardened. He had to find out what had happened to her.

"Aye," said William. "She told me everything. So ye may as well as admit it."

It was a calculated risk. A deep silence opened in the room. William was not affected. All he cared about was finding Nora. If that meant bluffing, then he would. It worked. In a tic, the laird"s face changed. Now he was pale and sick.

"Everything?"

"William!" Fiona screamed, as William lifted the laird up against the wall. There, he rammed him hard, almost bashing his head.

"Sir," murmured Alasdair, but he had his sgian dubh ready to cover him.

William nodded to Alasdair, who had his back. Circling the stunned laird, he brought his silver dagger toward his face.

"Tell me," he hissed.

Suddenly, all the game playing was stripped away. William glared at the arrogant laird. He threw Laird Douglas against the wall again for good measure as Fiona wailed. Beside him, Sorcha turned white.

"I"ll kill ye," swore the raging laird. He fixed Sorcha with his bloodshot eyes. Sorcha shrunk backward. Fiona held on to the terrified Sorcha as William exchanged glances with his sister.

"Ye"re safe here," Fiona murmured to the shaking woman.

Meanwhile, William kept the pressure up on Douglas. "Tell me!" he snarled to the laird.

Finally, the laird"s patience snapped. "Och, dinnae fash, lad. The wee whore hasnae the nerve to go through wi" the plan. Ye"re safe..."

Douglas eyed William strangely, then glanced away. William did not miss a beat.

"The plan?" he asked.

All of them gazed at the laird. Sorcha clasped her hand in front of her mouth and looked as if she was going to be sick.

"Noo wonder she fought ye!" she gasped, her gray eyes glassy with tears.

Now the laird looked at her, bewildered. "But I thought ye, I thought ye kent," he began, looking at Sorcha.

"Och, ye lying bawbag," William snarled.

His lip curled in disgust. Realizing he had been had, Douglas made for William"s head. But before he could get there, Alasdair leaped in, pinning him back against the wall. Now, the pair of them had secured him as guards rushed to the door.

Watching as the Duncan cavalry arrived to take him, the fallen laird yelled, "Och, she was gonnae stick a blade in yer wee gullet, lad. As she should do for all that yer clan have done!"

William pushed Fiona back as the men surrounded him, securing him with rope. Grimly, William watched as he was tied and taken. His heart erupting, he turned to Alasdair.

"My horse, right noo," he commanded.

Behind him, Fiona fussed, "William, nay?—"

She was silenced by a single glance from her brother.

In no mood for a fight, he stared right at Alasdair, then instructed his head guard, "Right noo, nay fashing. I leave noo to find Nora."

His heart burning, William made to leave. He must not lose a moment in finding her. But he could not avoid Laird Douglas"s eyes as he was dragged from the room. Venom spewed from him like an active volcano. Even though he was surrounded, he was not going easily. Ranting and raving, he turned to William.

"Ye dae that, son, an" tell that whoring wench o" mine that when ye find her, that I"ll do what she didnae. An" what"s more, I"ll do it to her too. That isnae a threat. It"s a promise!"