Forbidden Highlander (Highlander Trilogy 2) Page 7

  “The servants listen and hear, I will learn more,” Flanna said. “Go get food to keep you for a few days. The storm that blows in will keep us close to our hearths. It is the reason the troop stopped in the village and requested shelter. They were returning home when the storm forced them to turn around and it kept close on their heels all the way here.”

  Dawn shrugged in question wondering about the troop.

  “Laird Kirk McClusky and his son Torr,” Flanna said. “Their land borders Carrick land and are neighbors to Kirk Gerwan , though Lucerne barely acknowledges them. One of the servants heard her refer to them as a fighting brood of poor stock. When she had been informed that there would be guests she fancied herself up and entered the Great Hall as if she were a regal queen. When she saw the boisterous men, her hand went to her head and I knew she was about to feign one of her frequent headaches. Then she caught sight of Torr and her nose wrinkled in disgust and she fled the room. He bears a bad facial scar and a shame it is, since he’d be as handsome as Cree without it.”

  Dawn shook her head and smiled.

  Flanna grinned. “You’re right. No one is as handsome as the devil.”

  Dawn scolded playfully with a shake of her finger, and though meant in jest there was some truth to her admonishment. Cree was no devil; he was a good man.

  “He’s a quiet one though, sits there and stares with those stark blue eyes of his. I’ve never seen eyes such a vibrant blue. They can cause you to shiver or send tingles over the flesh.” And Flanna shivered just thinking about them. “I have to get back. We’re busy with the unexpected arrival of the troop and you need to get home and stay put.”

  Dawn nodded and took Flanna’s hand squeezing it, letting her know how appreciative she was for the news.

  “I have my eyes and ears open. There’ll be more to tell for sure. Now fill your basket with dried apples to brew cider so it appears that’s why I dragged you in here. Don’t want to give gossiping tongues more fodder.”

  Flanna joined Dorrie in gathering more food staples for Dawn and when Turbett saw what they were up to he praised Flanna for being sensible in providing Dawn with enough food to see her through the storm so that the servants did not have to brave the horrid weather.

  Dawn had to smile. Turbett had eyes only for Flanna when he talked and Flanna actually appeared to soften as he spoke. They made an odd pair; Turbett so large and Flanna small in stature, though not in nature. It pleased Dawn to see that Flanna had finally found someone who cared for her rather than someone who simply used her for his own pleasure.

  Turbett turned away shouting orders once again. “There’ll be no rest today; we have hungry warriors to feed.”

  The kitchen bustled like never before, though the workers did seem a happy lot. Flanna had mentioned once that Turbett fed them well and allowed them to take some food staples home to their families. Many had gotten to realize that while Turbett blustered and brandished a wooden spoon, he had never harmed anyone. And it was obvious that he enjoyed cooking and took great care in preparing tasty meals.

  Dawn and Elwin were soon on their way, though the snow had worsened and slowed their pace. Visibility was poor and the wind snapped at them like icy whips. Dawn was never so happy to enter the cottage. She tugged Elwin in with her and when he tried to protest, she stepped in front of the closed door, hands on hips, shaking her head.

  He attempted to argue with her but it did little good and when she finally got him to understand what she was trying to tell him, that no one could possibly be out and about in such horrid weather so there was no need for worry, he nodded.

  “Only a fool would risk venturing out in this,” Elwin said finally realizing it himself.

  The door burst open then and Sloan rushed in the cottage. “Is Old Mary here?”

  “No,” Elwin said. “We haven’t seen her.”

  Dawn grabbed Sloan’s arm and looked at him anxiously.

  “Someone saw her go into the woods earlier and now she is nowhere to be found,” Sloan explained, then looked to Elwin. “Cree orders your return to the keep to help search the village and her old cottage. But we must hurry the storm worsens by the minute.”

  Dawn had wandered over to the hearth, her worry for Old Mary growing rapidly. The old woman had been good to her since they had first met. And the thought that she could be out there in the freezing snow alone, chilled Dawn to the bone and angered her. Both men knew as well as she did that if Old Mary was without shelter she would not survive the storm. But with visibility so bad any attempt at searching for her would surely prove futile and dangerous to those who searched, for they too could get lost and succumb to the blinding storm.

  “Dawn.”

  She turned to Sloan. “You are to remain here. You will latch the door when we leave and you are not to open it to anyone except me, Elwin or Cree. Do you understand?”

  Dawn nodded and removed her cloak. She did as Sloan ordered; she latched the door once they left. She looked at the baskets of food and told herself to get busy fixing a meal for later, but she had no want to do it. She could think of nothing but Old Mary.

  Why would the old woman go into the woods when she knew a snowstorm drew near? And she certainly could not feign ignorance of the approaching storm, for Old Mary—more than anyone in the village—was the most accurate in predicting the weather. What could possibly be of such importance that she challenged a storm to go into the woods?

  Dawn paced thinking about it. Old Mary knew the woods well, especially since her old cottage had sat a bit of a distance from the village. A sudden thought stopped her pacing. There was another spot Old Mary frequented not far from her cottage. It was the remnants of an old shed. Dawn never understood why she puttered around the place, though lovely wildflowers did grow there in spring and summer. It made no sense though for her to go there now when a snowstorm brewed.

  But what if she did go there? The warriors didn’t know that area well and in the storm they certainly wouldn’t be able to find it. Her thoughts continued to ramble and she continued to pace. The knock on the door startled her and she wasn’t sure if it had been minutes or hours since the men had left.

  “It’s Elwin; open up.”

  Dawn anxiously lifted the latch, eager to find out if they had found Old Mary.

  Elwin stepped in, his cloak covered with snow and his cheeks stung red. “We’ve had no success in finding her and the whipping snow blinds so badly that you can’t see your way through it. “You’ll not be needing a guard tonight. No one can brave that weather and survive.” Elwin cringed realizing what his words meant. Old Mary would die if she was stuck without shelter from this storm. “Latch the door and thank the heavens you are safe.”

  She should be grateful for her good fortune while her friend could possibly be dying? She latched the door after Elwin left, her decision having been made as soon as Elwin had informed her that they would search no more today.

  It didn’t take her long to slip her stockings on and to wrap her hands with strips of cloth. She then wrapped her shawl around her head so that it would cover her nose and mouth and slipped on her wool cloak and placed her fur-lined cloak over that. She took a wool blanket and wrapped it around her. She was not only set to tackle the storm but to keep Mary warm once she found her.

  She hoped that she was right as to where Old Mary had gone. If Dawn was lucky she would find her there and they could both wait out the storm at the old woman’s cottage. If not then she hoped she would at least find Old Mary somewhere along the way. Whatever the case, she intended to find her friend and see her safe.

  As soon as she stepped into the harsh swirling snow she knew her task would be far more difficult than she had imagined but that only spurred her on. Time was of the essence if she was to find Old Mary and so with her head down and her determination strong, she pressed forward battling the raging snow and howling wind.

  ~~~

  Cree was not comfortable with the decision to suspend the search for
Old Mary but he had little choice. Visibility was so poor that his men could go in circles for hours and not realize it. Whatever possessed the old woman to go off on her own when the weather had obviously bore signs of a snowstorm puzzled him. Her careless decision could not have come at a worse time.

  With the arrival of the McClusky troop he was needed at the keep and so were several of his warriors. The McCluskys were known as fierce fighters, had strong opinions, and known to brawl for little reason or perhaps that had to do with their steadfast opinions. They were also honorable warriors and true to those they called friend and being their land bordered Cree’s he intended for them to be friends.

  He had heard tales of Kirk McClusky’s son, Torr and his fighting abilities. Gossip had it that ten men could not take him down and his prowess with a sword was legendary. So Cree could not help but wonder who had scarred the mighty warrior and if the culprit still lived. It would be rude to ask him and being the man was not one to speak about his exploits and silenced others—who dared to try—with a threatening look, Cree would not know the tale.

  The scarred warrior sat at the dais with them, though was not at all present. He did little but grunt when a question was directed at him until finally no one bothered him and he was left alone, talk and laughter going on around him as if he did not exist.

  Cree politely excused himself for a moment when Elwin entered the Great Hall and went to speak with the man.

  “My lord,” Elwin said with a brief nod. “The snowstorm has turned brutal and we had no luck in finding Old Mary. Sloan is seeing to a warrior who was injured in a fall during the search. He will be here shortly. I told Dawn she was to remain in her cottage with the door latched and to answer it to no one but me, Sloan, or you. She conceded without protest and latched the door behind me.”

  “You are to check on her from time to time until I join her later,” Cree ordered. “Now go and get yourself warm and eat.”

  With a bob of his head, Elwin went off to join some of his fellow warriors at a table closest to the hearth while Cree returned to the dais. He would have preferred to go and see for himself that Dawn was safe but he could not spare the time at the moment.

  Cree no sooner got involved in an interesting conversation with Kirk McClusky regarding their adjoining land when he saw Lucerne’s servant Bree meekly approach the dais.

  She was a petite lass with bright curly red hair and a pretty face. More often than not she appeared skittish like an animal that had been whipped too many times and Cree was fairly certain that Lucerne took a heavy hand to the lass. It was an issue he would have to address soon.

  She stood silent before the dais waiting for him to acknowledge her but Sloan caught Cree’s attention as he entered the room and hurried to the table.

  “The storm rages like an angry woman,” Sloan said and everyone at the table, except Torr, laughed. He was about to make another remark when he caught sight of the servant, her head bent, waiting. “I interrupted the lovely lass. Please forgive my rudeness.”

  Bree’s cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “Forgive the intrusion, but Lady Lucerne has requested the healer.”

  “Is it another headache?” Cree asked without an ounce of concern.

  “Yes, my lord,” Bree said.

  “I will not have the healer wade through a raging snowstorm to the keep for nothing more than a headache.” Bree went to say something and Cree raised his hand. “There is nothing more to say. Go.”

  Bree turned and fled.

  “She’s a pretty thing,” Sloan said filling his tankard with ale.

  “Too timid.”

  “You never know, those quiet ones can prove not at all docile.”

  “Is that all you think about is bedding women?” Cree snapped.

  “What else is there?” Sloan said with a laugh

  “Love,” Kirk McClusky said raising his tankard.

  Sloan shook his head. “No thank you. I’ve seen the consequences of falling in love and I prefer not to suffer them.”

  Kirk let loose with a boisterous laugh. “What makes you think you’ll have a choice? Once love hits, you’re done for, you’re finished; she has your heart and there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her.”

  “Never,” Sloan protested.

  “You just sealed your fate, lad,” Kirk said hoisting his tankard high once again. “Now love will get you good.”

  The teasing continued, Cree laughing along with the others as Kirk and Sloan voiced their strong opinions on the subject of love. His thoughts however wandered to Dawn and how he felt about her. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her, but there were also things he couldn’t do. He had a duty that love could not even amend. And why was he even thinking of love? Was it because he detested being separated from Dawn? He missed her badly even when they were separated for only a few hours. He loved the feel of her in his arms, the way she molded herself around him when they slept and how she forever responded so eagerly to his every kiss and touch.

  “The timid one returns,” Sloan whispered and Cree could almost hear him smile, though when he looked to Sloan his smile was fading and his jaw turned tight in anger.

  Cree knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to see. He turned his eyes on Bree once again standing timidly in front of the dais and had to stop himself from pounding the table in anger, for his actions no doubt would frighten the already fearful lass. Her right eye was bruised and swollen and there was a fresh welt on her cheek from a hit that had to have been delivered with brutal force.

  “Who did this to you?” Cree demanded.

  “I spoke out of turn, my lord. It was my fault,” Bree said.

  Cree was aware that she wasn’t defending Lucerne, but rather protecting herself, for if she spoke against the lady she would suffer for it and that angered him even more.

  “Lady Lucerne insists that the healer be brought to her and that I am not to return without the woman,” Bree said with a bravery spurred by fear.

  Cree stood and turned to Sloan. He had helped treat many a wounded warrior on the battle field so Cree felt confident in leaving Bree in Sloan’s care. “See to her while I speak with Lucerne.”

  Bree’s eyes turned wide. “No, my lord, please I beg you. My lady will be furious if you arrive unannounced at her bed chamber door.”

  “My lady doesn’t set the rules here; I do.” And with that said Cree walked out of the Great Hall and made his way up the stone staircase, his temper mounting with each step he climbed.

  Lucerne deserved a good thrashing but he would not raise his hand to a woman. His memories were too vivid of what had been done to his mother and he would not cause a woman to suffer such abuse.

  Cree didn’t bother to knock on her door. This was his keep and it was time she realized that. He walked right in slamming the door behind him.

  Lucerne was so shocked she could do nothing but stare at him for a moment and then she let loose with her temper. “How dare you enter my bed chamber without so much as a knock. You will apologize, my lord, for your rude and barbaric behavior.”

  He walked over to the bed where she sat ensconced like a queen, bolstered by numerous pillows and wearing a dark green velvet robe, a soft green wool nightdress beneath. He reached down, grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of bed.

  She stumbled, gasped, and looked ready to kill him. “How dare—”

  Cree took hold of both her wrists and yanked her hard against him. “I dare to do anything I wish in my home. You seem to forget that you are yet my wife and when you are you will not issues orders like a tyrant and you will never, never raise your hand to any servant or peasant again.”

  Her eyes turned wide and tears rushed to fill them. Cree wasn’t surprised to see them, he had actually expected them. She was the type of woman who would use tears to her advantage and to control.

  “Forgive me, my lord, but my head pains me so.” She sighed dramatically and let her body go limp against his.

  Cree
hated the fact that he would have to marry this lying, manipulative woman. He would never be able to trust her and the thought that she would bear him children unnerved him. He shoved her down on the bed.

  “Since your head hurts you shall stay abed for the remainder of the day with no one to disturb you. I will have one of the servants bring your supper.”

  “Bree will—”

  “Remain in the Great Hall and have her wounds tended,” —he pointed a finger at her—“and if I see another bruise or wound on the lass you will be confined to your quarters for a week.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply, didn’t want to hear one; he left the room without looking back at her and returned to the Great Hall grateful to be away from her. He no soon as sat at the table joining the other men then he got the overwhelming urge to see that Dawn was all right. He looked to Elwin who was already slipping on his cloak and Cree wondered if the man got the same uneasy feeling, for he nodded to Cree to let him know he was going to check on Dawn.

  Cree grew more uneasy as he waited for Elwin to return and when the man rushed into the Great Hall, Cree sprang out of his chair.

  “She’s not in her cottage, my lord.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cree’s heart slammed against his chest and his stomach roiled. What in God’s name had she gone and done now?

  He was surprised when Torr jumped up and said, “Are you speaking about the voiceless one?”

  Kirk McClusky stood as well. “What voiceless one?”

  “Later, Father,” Torr said.

  “What do you know of Dawn?” Cree demanded.

  “I met her briefly upon entering the village.”

  Cree turned to Elwin and the warrior nodded his head toward Torr. “He stared at her as if he knew her. Naturally, Dawn had to find out why so she approached him and they spoke briefly, Lila interpreted, before I sent him on his way.”