Highlander's Magical Love

by Donna Fletcher

  All thoughts fled Dawn’s mind when her eyes came to rest on Cree, his arms crossed over his chest, standing beside the fireplace, a low fire burning in it. There was something familiar about his stance, as if she had seen him standing there like that before. Common sense told her it had to be the paintings she had just seen in the gallery that brought the thought to mind. There were a few there of a Highlander standing beside or leaning on the mantel of a fireplace.

  “I apologize for Lady Ann. She lives in the past, thinking her title makes her more important than others and allows for rudeness.”

  Dawn nodded her thanks, not sure at what else to do since she was not expecting an apology and hoping no more would be made of the incident. She wanted to assure him it was an accident and did the best she could with gestures to have him understand her.

  It took a few tries until finally Cree understood what she was trying to say. “An accident, yes, I saw the whole thing myself and it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident.”

  Dawn was relieved to hear that. She needed this job, along with her bookstore position, if she wanted to continue to pay her bills. She signed slowly, simple gestures he might understand, that she had to leave and get back to work.

  He shook his head. “I wish I understood sign language.”

  She wished he did too. She improvised once again since he seemed to respond to simple gestures more easily. She tapped her chest, pointed to the door, then held her hand as if she was carrying a tray and walked in place.

  “You need to get back to work,” he said excited that he understood her, though she had made it easy for him.

  She smiled and nodded.

  Her beautiful smile brought a smile to his face. How could he have ever thought her plain? There was a natural attractiveness about her that made her irresistible. Maybe it was her smooth, unmarred complexion or the unevenness of her lips, the bottom slightly more plumped than the top one. Or was it her dark eyes framed with long curled lashes? He could go on and on, finding small things that caught his eye when his scowl suddenly returned. Here he was enjoying this time alone with her, and he had to let her go.

  Mine.

  The word whispered in in his head faintly like a memory long lost, fighting to return.

  Dawn’s brow wrinkled with concern and without thought she walked over to him, reached up, as if what she was about to do was the most natural thing, and brushed his creased brow with delicate strokes, as if easing them away.

  A shock of passion shot through him fast and hard and he reacted without hesitation. He reached down, his arm circling her waist, and pulled her up against him, while his other hand cupped the back of her head as he brought his lips down…

  The door suddenly swung open, jolting them apart just before their lips touched, and sent Dawn anxiously scurrying out of Cree’s arm. Though, it took a forceful tug to free herself, his coiled arm at her waist refusing to release her.

  His sister stumbled to a stop, her eyes turning wide, as she caught Dawn stepping quickly away from Cree, and she frowned at him.

  “Mum is looking for you. You need to make this right and she,” —Wintra nodded at Dawn— “needs to go back to work and keep her distance from Lady Ann.”

  “Do not dictate to me, Wintra,” Cree warned, his annoyance growing as Dawn slipped out of the room away from him.

  Wintra approached her brother. “What is going on with you? You know how important this event is to Mum. Torr is in the gallery doing what you should be doing, repairing any damage that might come back to hurt Mum. And for what? Is there something between you and that server that you protected her?”

  “She can’t speak.”

  “What are you talking about?” Wintra demanded.

  “Her name is Dawn and she was born without a voice. She can’t speak. She can’t make a sound. And I saw the whole incident. It actually looked like Lady Ann walked into her on purpose.”

  “Why would she do that?” Wintra shook her head.

  “Who knows why that woman does anything? I don’t know why Mum invites her.”

  “Frienenmy.”

  “What?” Cree asked, the word gibberish to him.

  “Friend/enemy. Frienenmy. Lady Ann is a friend and an enemy. Good to keep around just to know what she’s up to. And what do you mean that woman has no voice. That seems a bit odd or a bit convenient. Are you sure about that? Maybe she’s playing to your charitable side.” Wintra raised her hands to shield herself against his lethal glare. “Whoa, big brother, I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Do I look like I need a nanny?”

  Wintra grinned. “A good spanking might help.”

  Cree stepped around her. “I’ll let Torr know your preference.”

  “He already does and is quite proficient at it,” Wintra said, hurrying after him.

  Cree shook his head. “I don’t need to hear that.”

  She grabbed his arm, stopping him. “You need to hear something, since you acted like a rude arse in there. You need to apologize to Lady Ann.”

  “Like hell I will,” he said with a snarl.

  “So you’re going to let the evil witch spread her version of what happened all over the place and see not only Mum but that this major fundraiser suffers for it?”

  “Damn,” he muttered, knowing his sister was right. The evil witch would spread lies and could do damage to a worthy cause. “I’ll see to it.”

  “I knew you would,” Wintra said with a smile and took hold of his arm and continued to the door. “Now tell me about Dawn.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” he said, knowing his sister would be relentless if he so much as hinted at an interest in Dawn.

  “Don’t bother to lie to me. I saw the way you looked at her.”

  “I need to see to this problem,” Cree said, slipping his arm from around hers and placing it at her back to urge her out the door after opening it.

  Wintra laughed. “Oh, now you’re eager to do the right thing. I’ll let it go, for now, since this matter is presently more important. But know that before tonight’s over I’m going to find out what’s going on between you and her.”

  Cree was glad to see Torr heading their way and he gave his sister a gentle shove into her husband’s arms. “She’s all yours.”

  “You best hurry. Your mum needs you,” Torr said.

  Cree nodded and turned, catching Torr’s words as he hurried away.

  “What did you do to your brother now?”

  His mum, as usual, would handle this situation with grace and diplomacy. Lady Ann, however, would not be so gracious or mannerly, Torr’s caution that Cree’s mum needed him having proven that. The evil witch was probably still berating his mum and that got his ire going. His mum, however, had been embarrassed enough and he had no doubt she was already worrying over how the incident would affect the fundraiser and the foundation’s reputation.

  Cree heard Lady Ann’s voice before he entered the gallery. She was keeping it loud enough for all to hear.

  “This is simply unacceptable, Colleen. This annual fundraiser is always a spectacular event, but this shameful show of incompetence and your son’s rude behavior has marred the evening for me and I’m sure others as well. I don’t know if I will be returning next year. The servant didn’t even have the decency or manners to apologize and as for your son—”

  Cree shook his head at her infamous, dramatic pause that she was known for.

  “He certainly lacks the manners of his station.”

  Cree had to stop himself from charging in there and ordering the woman to get out and never return. But he had embarrassed his mum enough for the night. There were others in there watching and waiting to see what would happen and his mum understood that whether most or only a few in the room agreed with Lady Ann’s conclusion, it didn’t matter. What mattered was what all of them would take away from this incident. And that meant trying to appease everyone, an almost impossible task.

  Cree stopped just outside th
e gallery, waiting for his mum’s reply, though he knew what it would be.

  “I am sure the servant meant no harm and would be only too happy to apologize. After all, accidents do happen.”

  His mum the diplomat, gave Lady Ann what she wanted, but didn’t lay blame.

  It was time for him to do his part. He took one step and stopped, hearing Lady Ann.

  “I imagine being a server is a good job for the poor, voiceless woman. She doesn’t have to communicate with anyone and her plain features has no one paying her any mind.”

  Cree’s anger soared, his hands fisting at his sides when a thought struck him. How did Lady Ann know that Dawn had no voice? He wanted to charge at the woman and throw her out of the castle permanently when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him.

  Chapter 5

  “Let that go, Cree,” Sloan cautioned. “Your mum can handle her. There’s a commotion in the kitchen that needs your attention.”

  “More distraction. If this continues, this event will wind up a disaster and I refuse to allow that to happen,” Cree said and hurried to the kitchen to quell whatever problem had surfaced. He heard the loud, berating voice in the dining room well before he entered the kitchen as did the guests who were enjoying the splendid and plentiful array of food while they mingled. Frowns and raised brows let him know that this could mean more trouble for the event.

  “I’ll see what I can do out here while you go silence the ignorant fool,” Sloan said, keeping his voice low, and stepped away from Cree.

  “Temperamental chefs, what one must endure for exquisite desserts,” Sloan said, using the chef as an excuse, and people smiled and began asking him about Turbett, the pastry chef whose unfathomable talent of exquisite desserts they were all impatiently waiting to sample.

  Cree’s anger mounted as he approached the kitchen, hearing Colum berate Dawn.

  “How dare you insult the Elite Catering name with sloppy serving skills. And to spill champagne on an important guest is beyond acceptable. You deserve to be fired and I would fire you right here and now if two of the wait staff had not taken ill. I will see you banned from ever working as a server again.”

  “Enough!” Cree snapped as he pushed the kitchen door open and entered.

  Shocked silence filled the room and Colum who was berating Dawn looked to be fighting to hold his tongue.

  “How dare you raise your voice in my home,” Cree said, stopping a short distance from the man. “If anyone is an insult to their job, it is you.” He raised his hand, pointing a finger at Colum. “You were heard out in the dining room.”

  “I apologize, Lord Cree, but such an incident cannot be tolerated.”

  “And either can your inappropriate behavior,” Cree said and jabbed his finger in the man’s chest. “If you raise your voice again—” He paused to stop himself from threatening to bodily throw the man out of the house. That really wouldn’t do. It would only make matters worse He could see social media tomorrow… LORD CREE ABUSES A SERVANT AT THE ANNUAL ALL HALLOWS EVE CARRICK FOUNDATION FUNDRAISER. He spoke calmly but with distinct authority. “Elite Catering will never be used by the Carrick Foundation or its subsidiaries again.”

  Colum was quick to make amends. “My apologizes, sir.”

  Cree didn’t believe his apology for one minute. The man was placating him and he wondered over it. Surely, his actions tonight would be reported to the Elite executives and with harassment issues plaguing him, he was sure to be fired. It almost seemed as if it was his intention to be fired. “One more time, one more improper behavior, and I will have you removed from the premises.”

  “That won’t be necessary, sir. There won’t be another problem,” Colum said more sincerely.

  Though the man sounded sincere, Cree didn’t believe it was genuine. He wanted to say something to Dawn, ease her worries, but he thought better of it. He turned and left the kitchen, his eyes catching a quick look her way and he almost stopped and went to her. Her hands were gripped in front of her so tightly her knuckles were tinged white and the upset in her eyes was more pronounced by her scrunched brow.

  He was muttering beneath his breath when he stepped out of the kitchen, the swinging door rocking back and forth on its hinges. When he saw Colum approach Dawn and stand close to her, he remained where he was and caught the man’s words, his voice as low as it should have been before. Though, this time his anger was replaced with a threatening tone.

  “You will go only where I allow you to go and I will keep a vigilant eye on you for the rest of the evening,” Colum warned.

  Cree had no idea where the rage he felt came from, but it rose up in him as if from the depths of hell, hot and fiery. He shoved at the swinging door, sending it slamming against the wall as he entered the kitchen.

  “Dawn will serve where I instruct her to and that will be wherever I am,” Cree ordered sharply.

  Everyone in the kitchen stared at him, their eyes wide and their mouths agape, including Dawn.

  “She will take a tray of champagne and follow me,” Cree ordered.

  Lila grabbed a round, silver tray, six fluted champagne glasses already on it, and handed it to Dawn.

  Cree could see that Colum was not happy and he didn’t care. He held the door open for Dawn and followed her out to the dismay of everyone there, except for Lila. She wore a wide grin.

  “Follow me,” Cree said and stepped around Dawn.

  She did as he instructed and was surprised when he bypassed every room filled with guests and traveled along a hallway that seemed to lead toward the back of the castle. After a few twists and turns, they entered a room and she stopped, the stunning conservatory stealing her breath.

  Ceiling and walls were mostly glass making it seem as if she had stepped into a garden, the preponderance of greenery and flowers adding to the outdoor feel. Trees, ferns, and orange, red, and yellow potted mums filled the large space and wicker furniture were artfully placed throughout, creating nooks where one could sit and feel as if in the woods or a garden. Other furnishings were grouped for those who wished to sit and converse, a worn Oriental rug beneath, keeping one’s feet from the cold stone floor. But it was the view outside that made one stare in awe.

  Gray clouds drifted in the dark night sky, keeping the gorgeous full moon prisoner, letting it only peek through now and again. The clouds even blocked the stars, imprisoning the sky with its gloom. And yet it was a beautiful sight to see and Dawn wished she could paint or at least sketch it.

  She was so caught up in its beauty that it took her a moment to realize that Cree and she were the only ones there, not a single guest lingered about.

  “This area is closed off to guests,” Cree said, seeing the confusion on her lovely face.

  Dawn looked at the tray she held and shrugged.

  Cree took it from her and set it on a nearby table, picking up two champagne flutes. “I thought you could use a drink. I know I could.” He handed her one.

  Dawn shook her head and tugged at her apron.

  “You’re working and not allowed to drink,” he said, understanding her gesture.

  She nodded.

  Cree had no intentions of letting her go now that he once again had her to himself. “I noticed that you admired the paintings in the gallery. You like art?” He was amazed that though he didn’t understand sign language, she managed to make herself understood.

  She nodded and gestured as if she painted on a canvas, then pointed to herself.

  “You are an artist.”

  She nodded and smiled. She patted her chest again, then crossed her hands over it, and smiled.

  “You love painting,” he said, her enjoyment of it obvious in her wide smile.

  She nodded and held her hand down low at her hip.

  “Since you were small,” he said, thinking how easy it was to converse with her.

  She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead tugged at her apron.

  “You need to return to work,” Cree confirmed relu
ctantly and with a nod, annoyed that once again he would have to let her go. He wanted more time with her, but unfortunately tonight was not a good time to get to know her. He would visit her at the bookshop and…

  You have but this one night to claim her or she will be lost to you forever.

  The fortune-teller’s words rang in his head like a bell tolling doom. He tried to shake the nonsensical thought away, but it refused to be chased. It hung there heavy over him.

  Dawn raised her hand, lowering two fingers, then pointed at the door of the conservatory.

  “There are only so many of you,” Cree said, realizing he had no right monopolizing her time or ignoring his duties to his mum and the event. “A few more moments and then I’ll let you go.”

  Let you go.

  He didn’t want to let her go. What if he never saw her again? A foolish thought. He knew where she lived and work. It would be easy to see her again. Wouldn’t it? That kernel of doubt put enough worry in his mind to have him thinking twice.

  Dawn bobbed her head, part of her concerned for her job and another part enjoying talking with Cree. She rarely dated, far too busy working or painting and there were not many men interested in a voiceless woman. There had also been no man that she had ever been attracted to until… Cree. It was almost as if she’d been waiting for him. That they were meant to meet.

  Fate.

  The fortune-teller spoke about meeting her fate.

  She almost shook her head at the idea that Cree could possibly be her fate. A foolish fantasy that was what Cree was.