Highlander's Magical Love

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Highlander's Magical Love Page 3

by Donna Fletcher


  Her husband, Torr was dressed as a huntsman and looked the part, a scar on his right cheek, acquired at a young, reckless age, not at all distracting from his good looks and his piercing blue eyes intimidating as was his height and lean, hard body.

  “Hunting for mythical fairies are you?” Cree asked with a chuckle and held his hand out to Torr.

  Torr reached out and gave the offered hand a strong shake and laughed. “Trying to distract from answering your sister, are you?”

  “My brother knows that will never work,” Wintra said, swatting her husband in the arm before leaning up to kiss Cree’s cheek. “So who’s the one? I want to meet her and see if I approve.”

  He sometimes found himself envious of his sister and her husband. You could see the love they had for each other. It shined in their eyes, was obvious in a simple touch they shared, and the way their hands always connected when they were near each other, one or the other always reaching out to take hold. Yes, he was envious, very envious of such a strong love. He also had to give Torr credit since his sister could be a stubborn woman, though some claimed no less stubborn than he was.

  “I’ll not leave you alone until you tell me,” Wintra warned.

  His mum settled the problem after Wintra stepped near to give her a kiss. “The fortune-teller told Cree he is going to meet his destiny tonight.”

  “Fortune-teller? You have a fortune-teller here? Where is she? I want to get to her before the guests arrive,” Wintra said.

  Torr shook his head. “Do not even think of asking me to go.” He looked to Cree. “How about a dram of Scottish while my wife goes and finds out that we’re going to have a girl.”

  “How did you know that?” Wintra accused.

  “So it is a girl,” Torr said with a wide grin.

  “A granddaughter!” Wintra’s mum smiled and was even more gleeful when she announced, “Now I can start buying for her.”

  Wintra smiled as her mum gave her a quick hug, then turned a scowl on her husband. “You tricked me.”

  Torr laughed. “I tricked you? You’re the one who said you didn’t want to know what we were having when you knew and didn’t tell me.”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” Wintra confessed, going over to him and wrapping her arm around his.

  Torr kissed her cheek. “Of course you did, just like the pink baby blanket you’re knitting.”

  “Huh? You know about that?”

  “You’ve learned to knit?” her mum and Cree asked in shocked unison, since Wintra was never one for such a tedious task as she had told her mum every time she had tried to teach her daughter.

  “If you can call it that,” Torr said and got a punch in the side for it.

  “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll help you with it. Now come with me so you can see what the fortune-teller has to say about you and my granddaughter.”

  As soon as the two women were out of earshot, Cree asked, “You two didn’t bring anyone with you, did you?”

  “Were we supposed to?” Torr asked as if he had forgotten something.

  Cree shook his head as they walked. “No, it’s just that the fortune-teller made it seem as if I’m supposed to meet a woman tonight and I thought maybe Wintra had set the whole thing up, but since she was surprised that there was a fortune-teller, I guess it wasn’t her.”

  “Maybe Lucy, I know she and Wintra feels it’s their mission in life to find you a wife.”

  “That must be it, since Sloan warned me that Lucy was bringing a new hire with her.”

  Torr laughed. “Don’t forget all the other countless females that are attending, hoping to entice the eligible, future Earl of Carrick.”

  “I’ll be picking my own wife.”

  Torr laughed again. “Yeah, we’ll see how that works for you, mate, with your mum, Wintra, and Lucy determined to snag you a wife.”

  “Let’s get that scotch, though I think I’m going to need a lot more than a dram.”

  Cree and Torr were sharing a drink in the library away from the hustle and bustle of the final preparations when Sloan entered the room dressed similar to Cree in a Highland plaid. A fair-haired and handsome man of good height and solid build, though no comparison to Cree.

  Sloan smiled broadly. “You’re off the hook, mate. The new hire Lucy invited had to cancel. She has the flu.” He hurried and poured himself a glass of scotch.

  “Let’s drink to the woman,” Cree said, holding up his glass.

  “And to the flu,” Torr added, raising his own glass, “and a speedy recovery.”

  “Aye!” the three men called out and downed their scotch.

  “I see the place has heavy security tonight,” Torr said. “Has it anything to do with that article on the legendary Carrick brooch all the major news outlets released the other day?”

  Cree nodded. “I could look at it as a good and bad thing. It’s publicity for the fundraiser and there was an uptick in tickets for the benefit, but it also meant upping security.”

  “Who would be crazy enough to search this place for a hidden, priceless legendary brooch on the night of a fundraiser with hundreds in attendance?” Sloan asked, shaking his head. “Besides, the damn thing is supposedly cursed. There is only one person who can remove it from this place, without threat of harm or death, and that’s the woman your ancestor, who you’re named after, loved beyond all reason as my wife Lucy would put it.”

  “What is she going to do, return from the grave?” Torr said with a chuckle.

  “Well, if she intends to, then tonight would be the night,” Sloan said, raising his glass as if in a salute to the ghost.

  Cree laughed, a solid, hardy laugh. “It’s a tale, nothing more.”

  “Why do you say that?” Sloan challenged with a grin. “Because you couldn’t find it?”

  “Neither could you, or do you forget you helped me search for it through the years?” Cree said. “It’s a romantic legend without an ounce of proof to it.”

  “Wintra believes it,” Torr said, refilling their glasses.

  “She was such a pest about wanting to search for it,” Sloan said.

  Cree laughed again. “And you accommodated her.”

  “She was hard to say no to,” Sloan argued.

  “She still is,” Torr said, joining Cree in a laugh.

  “Seriously,” Sloan said, “do you think anyone would attempt to gain access to the secret passageways that run through the castle, since most believe that’s where it’s hidden?”

  “With Carrick private security and the added amount of security I have employed for the evening, I don’t see how they could.” Cree said with confidence. “And if anything, I would be more concerned with the various artifacts and rare books than some legendary, eight-hundred-year-old, supposed gold and blood-red, ruby brooch.”

  Sloan grinned. “Blood-red? I thought the legend says that the ruby is actually Cree’s blood that spilled and hardened when he thought his wife Dawn had been lost to him? That’s some kind of crazy love.”

  “A legendary love from what my ancestors have claimed through the years, but you know how legends go, they change in the telling through time and the truth of the tale is eventually lost,” Cree said. “It’s been said and, some believe, Dawn will return for her brooch.”

  “Creepy,” Sloan said with a shudder, “especially tonight of all nights.”

  “When the spirits are free to walk the earth,” Torr said in an eerie tone that advertised a horror movie, then laughed.

  The door opened and Cree’s mum peeked her head in. “Your wives are looking for you and guests are arriving. Need I say more?”

  “The wives thing was enough,” Sloan said with a chuckle and the men filed out of the library.

  Cree stood in the foyer with his mum, receiving guests. He watched as servants drifted among them with flutes of champagne and trays of various canapés. He had yet to spot Dawn again and he wondered why he was even looking for her, but he was.

  When the majority of the guests
had arrived, his mum and he went their separate ways to mingle and make sure everyone enjoyed the event. After all, the ticket to the event was a sizeable price, but all proceeds went to the Carrick Foundation. There would be chances to take on expensive prizes, endless food, liquor, and the most fabulous dessert extravaganza ever near the end of the evening by a new pastry chef that had become the talk of Edinburgh, pastry chef Turbett. He had agreed to supply the desserts for tonight’s event.

  Everyone had warned his mum that the man was unapproachable, difficult to talk with, and that he would never come all the way to the Highlands to prepare desserts for her, but they all had underestimated Lady Colleen Carrick’s determination.

  Turbett and his staff had been there since yesterday working on the desserts and again since early this morning. It was one part of the evening Cree was looking forward to since he had had the pleasure of sampling one of Turbett’s desserts and couldn’t say enough about how delicious it had been. The dessert extravaganza would be revealed at 11 pm, an hour before All Hallows Eve ended so that the spirits, the ghosts of the past, could enjoy the sweets before they once again departed this earth.

  An hour into the festivities and Cree still hadn’t spotted Dawn. He had seen Lila, the other woman that had been with Dawn, yet Dawn was nowhere to be seen.

  When Lila drew close with a tray of salmon dill canapés he ignored the tempting treat and asked, “I trust all is well with your friend Dawn since the incident in the foyer?”

  Lila’s face registered surprise, not that it mattered to Cree. He was more concerned about Dawn and that concern had grown when he continued to spot not hide nor hair of her. For some reason, he needed to know she was safe. Though, why he had assumed Lila was Dawn’s friend, he could not say. They could be nothing more than servers who had met for the first time tonight, yet that somehow didn’t ring true to him.

  “Dawn does well, Lord Cree,” Lila said.

  Cree was accustomed to people appearing intimidated in front of him, wealth and title could do that to some people, though Sloan had told him it was his commanding presence that caused an unease in people when they met him. He held himself with confidence and strength that could attract yet also be daunting to some. He saw that hint of intimidation in Lila’s eyes when she spoke to him.

  “That Colum fellow is not giving her anymore problems, is he?” Cree asked. Lila once again showed surprise at his query, though she also seemed encouraged that he should be concerned.

  Lilia kept her voice low. “I cannot say for sure since Colum separated us when he knows we always work together.”

  That Lila sounded concerned troubled him. “Where is Dawn now?”

  “I just saw her heading to the kitchen most likely to refill her tray since it was empty.”

  “Has Colum given her trouble before?” He thought she might decline to answer since it wasn’t common for the host to be talking to a server about the wait staff. He would be expected to take any matter he found disturbing or offensive up with Elite Catering. But once again he saw a spark of fear in her eyes as if she had no choice but to answer him.

  “He has a reputation with the women servers, though for some reason he has recently paid Dawn far more attention than the others. She almost didn’t accept this event because of it.”

  “I appreciate you being candid with me,” Cree said and her eyes turned wide as if she had just come to her senses and realized what she had said. Cree was quick to calm her. “I will be discreet when I speak with your boss. Your name will not be mentioned.”

  “Thank you. Thank you, Lord Cree,” Lila hurried to say before rushing off.

  “Did you put the fear of the devil into that bonnie lass?” Sloan asked, with a teasing lilt.

  “I do not put fear in people,” Cree said.

  Sloan laughed. “When you scowl like that you damn well do.”

  “He’s right,” Torr said, joining the two men. “I’ve seen men back away from you when you get that look on your face.”

  “What look?” Cree demanded.

  “The I’m-going-to-kill-you look,” Sloan said.

  “Sloan’s right,” Torr agreed again, nodding. “And you don’t want Lucy or your sister catching you with that look tonight. They’ll lecture you on how you’ll never meet a woman wearing a scowl like that.”

  “Watch out,” Sloan warned. “Here they come.”

  From the look on Wintra’s face as she approached, she appeared ready to unleash a tongue lashing on him and as for Lucy? She was blonde and beautiful and a force to be reckoned with when she got her mind set on something, though you would never know it with her costume… an angel, wings and all.

  The two women stopped, both of their mouths ready to lash out at him.

  “Not a word,” Cree said, though it came out like a feral growl. “Not one word.” He walked away, leaving the small group staring after him as he headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter 3

  The castle had two kitchens. One was large with restaurant style appliances for events such as this one while the other was the family kitchen where his mum had prepared meals when he and Wintra were young. She still cooked occasionally, especially around the holidays and the family would gather there, and Cree loved every moment of those now rare occasions.

  Family was important to him and he had hoped by now, at thirty, to be married with children and making even more happy memories. Unfortunately, he hadn’t met the one as his mum and sister would say. The women he had dated, and there had been many, never touched his heart the way he had hoped a woman would and he had begun to wonder if any woman ever would.

  Though, he had to admit there was something about Dawn that drew his interest. He couldn’t say why he was attracted to her. Why he felt this pull to see that she was safe. Why he felt the need to seek her out and… what?

  What did he expect to say when he stood in front of her?

  That she was a server, a commoner as some would say, mattered not. The custom of royalty marrying only royalty was changing. His mother had been a commoner, a school teacher his father had met while both on vacation in Spain. Cree’s grandfather hadn’t been happy about it, but it hadn’t taken his mum long to win the Earl of Carrick over. She may not have been born into a noble family but she fit the part well and made Cree’s grandfather proud to have her as a daughter-in-law, especially since she had shown so much interest in the Clan Carrick history and did everything she could to preserve it.

  He stopped before entering the kitchen. This could be all a folly on his part, a suggestion placed in his mind by the fortune-teller warning him that it was his last chance. If he did not meet her tonight, she would be lost to him forever. It was nothing but foolishness and yet…

  He could feel his scowl deepen, though he would admit it to no one that he did, on occasion, actually scowl. He entered the kitchen with a forceful step and all movement came to an abrupt halt. The faces of the servers and preparation staff stared at him nervously and he thought he saw a few spark with intimidation.

  Flanna gathered her wits quickly and said, “Lord Cree, is there a problem?”

  Cree glanced around the room and grew annoyed when he didn’t see Dawn and settled his eyes on the woman who had spoken to him. “A moment of your time.”

  Flanna hurried over to him, following as he stepped just outside the kitchen door where they would not be heard and introduced herself. “I’m Flanna. How may I help you?”

  “Dawn. Where is she?” he asked, hearing the harsh demand in his voice and silently warning himself to temper his tone.

  “Did she do something to upset you, Lord Cree?” Flanna asked, worried since Dawn was the least of her servers who would present a problem, especially since she had no voice to defend herself.

  His annoyance showed in his clipped response. “No, I just wish to speak with her.”

  Flanna had vast experience with temperamental nobles and handled them well, but Lord Cree was different. He lit a fear in her that she had
never experienced before and while he was known to scowl now and then, he was never known to cause anyone harm.

  Cree, sensing her distress, said, “There was an incident with a man named Colum Liege earlier and I wanted to speak to her about it.”

  Flanna shook her head, her worry over his intentions fading with his explanation. “That man’s time with Elite Catering is limited. I’m sorry you had to witness his unprofessionalism and the incident will be reported.”

  “That is all well and good, but at the moment I wish to speak with Dawn.” Cree heard the command in his voice, like a warrior of old demanding to be obeyed. He could not help but think of his ancestor he was named after. Had he expected obedience from those who served him? He almost shook his head again. It was the twenty-first century, not the thirteenth century. “I only want a moment of Dawn’s time,” he said, tempering his tone.

  Flanna looked relieved. “I’ll get her for you.”

  “I’m sure that your skill in seeing this party run smoothly is needed. Tell me where she is and I’ll be brief with her,” he said once again guarding his tone so he would not sound so demanding, though he had failed to keep the urgency out of it.

  Lila hurried toward them before Flanna could say a word.

  “I’m concerned for Dawn,” Lila said.

  Cree swerved around to glare at her, bringing her to an abrupt halt. “What’s happened?”

  For a moment, Lila’s words stuck in her throat, Lord Cree’s glare much too intimidating. However, concern for Dawn quickly replaced any misgivings of speaking up to the handsome nobleman.

  “Colum has sent her to the Elite truck out back to get more champagne glasses—”

  Flanna interrupted. “We have enough champagne glasses. Besides, that is not her job. She’s here as a server, nothing more. I will see to this.”

  “No,” Cree said sharply, the two women’s brows shooting up. “I will see to this. You, Flanna, will make certain my mother’s party continues to run smoothly.”

  “Yes, sir,” Flanna said, “but—”

  Cree raised his hand, stopping her from saying another word. “You will do as I say.”

 

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