Forbidden Highlander (Highlander Trilogy 2)

by Donna Fletcher

  Dawn finally nodded, though worried that she was not going to like what the woman who gave birth to her had to say.

  Old Mary got up and moved away from the table and Ann Gerwan sat.

  “My daughter Lucerne told me about how a plain, voiceless woman had caught the heart of the mighty warrior Cree and that the crude McCluskys were here and Kirk McClusky claimed the voiceless woman to be his long lost daughter. Lucerne is praying that is so and that you will leave with the McCluskys and that Cree will see that your departure is for the best.”

  Dawn wondered if Ann felt the same and continued to stare at the woman waiting for her to go on.

  Ann wrung her hands nervously in front of her on the table. “By now I am sure that Kirk has told you about him and me.”

  Dawn confirmed that with a nod.

  “I feel I owe you an explanation for the decision I made those many years ago. It was not an easy choice that I made, but a necessary one. I knew Roland would never accept a—damaged—child. He would see to it that you died before the day was through and I would not see harm come to you.” Ann nodded to Old Mary. “She was the healer who attended me at your birth and I begged her to take you away and keep you safe. The problem was I needed a babe to replace you. Mary found one and brought her to me...” A tear slipped down Ann’s cheek. “The tiny babe settled comfortably in my arms, as if she knew it was where she belonged. Both your lives were miraculously saved that night and I believe it was the way it was meant to be. At least it is what I have told myself these many years so that it made my difficult choice somewhat bearable.”

  Dawn rested a hand to her stomach, the fear of having to face such a horrifying choice roiling her stomach. And she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for this woman who was her mother and yet a stranger to her.

  “I had no idea what Mary did with you and I did not want to know. I was glad that she disappeared that night and never returned. I thought she had taken you far away and it would have been better if she had.”

  Her words stung, though Dawn did not show the pain they caused. She remained stoic and listened.

  “Lucerne has been my daughter these many years and I loved her as I would have loved you, just as I am certain that the woman who raised you loved you as her own. I made a difficult choice then and I make another now.” She took a deep breath, as if needing to fortify herself for what she was about to say. “I cannot and I will not acknowledge you as my daughter. It would mean death for not only you, but Lucerne and myself. Roland would never forgive my infidelity or my betrayal in passing off a peasant’s child as his own.” She clutched her hands together. “I am begging you to save not only your life, but Lucerne’s and mine and leave with your father and never look back, never return to Cree.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dawn stared at her mother. She had sent Dawn away years ago to save her and herself and now she was asking Dawn to willingly go away this time. Her mother hadn’t seemed the least bit interested in her. She hadn’t even bothered to ask how Dawn felt about Cree. Her only thought was for Dawn to sacrifice as she once did and continued to do.

  Dawn stood and tapped her chest, and then her head.

  Ann stood flustered. “I don’t understand.”

  Dawn shook her head. She was right about that. Ann Gerwan did not understand her daughter at all.

  Old Mary stepped forward. “Dawn says she will think on it.”

  “What do you mean you will think on it?” Ann demanded. “You have no choice; you must go away.”

  Dawn bristled at her command and threw her shoulders back and her head up. She ran two fingers across the palm of her hand, jabbed toward Ann, then tapped her chest and shook her head.

  Old Mary interpreted again. “You run; I don’t.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Ann said, her face pinched in a frown. “I do what must be done. Your selfishness will see us all suffer.”

  Dawn glared at the woman, turned, and left the cottage, striding past Elwin shaking her head. He followed close on her heels and the other warriors flanked her sides, keeping pace with her. Her anger mounted with each forceful step. When she reached her cottage, she marched right in and shoved the door shut behind her. She paced in front of the table, her chest heaving, and her anger showing no signs of abating.

  That woman certainly was no mother to her. Ann Gerwan cared not a whit for her. She had accepted Lucerne as her daughter and why not? The young woman was beautiful in all ways and she had a voice. What woman wouldn’t want a daughter like her compared to Dawn.

  Dawn sank down on a chair, her hand grabbing the table. Ann had talked about holding Lucerne in her arms and how she had been so content. Dawn wondered if Ann had even bothered to hold her or had a damaged daughter been too much not only for the father but the mother as well?

  She was also growing ever more frustrated with everyone claiming that they were trying to protect her—keep her safe—when truly what they were doing were deciding her fate with no thought to her own desires. Her mother had taught her that survival sometimes meant finding the strength and courage to do the things you didn’t think you could do. She had called on that courage the day Colum had informed her that she would please the prisoner Cree in whatever way he wanted. She needed to call on that courage again, but for what? Did she do what Ann Gerwan ask, what her father also wanted? Or did she do as the man she loved asked of her and trust him that all would work out well?

  She knew the answer, had known it all along. It had never truly been a question in her mind. She would trust Cree; she would always trust Cree for from the moment they met he had never failed her. He may be dictatorial and demanding but she was beginning to see that he acquiesced to her more than he realized. And that knowledge not only made her feel loved but made her feel powerful, something she had never felt before.

  She jumped up and began pacing again. She was angry with Ann Gerwan all over again. The woman hadn’t shown an ounce of endearment toward her or cared what she asked of her. It seemed to Dawn that her life did not matter to Ann. All that mattered was that Dawn obeyed her command and leave, no talk of any other possible solution.

  Dawn heard a knock at the door and stopped pacing.

  Flanna entered and stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Dawn. She hurried to close the door, set the basket down, and went straight to her reaching out to slip her cloak off before easing her down in a chair. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  Flanna had become a good and trusted friend, but Dawn thought it would not be wise of her to talk of what just happened for various reasons. One being that she feared if anyone realized that Flanna knew something she could possibly be made to suffer for it. She did however intend to be honest, to a degree. She tapped her chest, pressed a finger to her closed lips, and shook her head.

  “You cannot tell me?”

  Dawn nodded.

  “You don’t have to, I think I know. It has something to do with Ann Gerwan.”

  Dawn looked puzzled. How could she know that?

  Flanna grabbed the basket from by the door and placed it on the table. She was quick to take a jug from it and fill a tankard. “A special wine Cree is serving this evening in honor of the Gerwan’s arrival, though Ann Gerwan arrived only a few moments ago and seemed quite agitated and flushed to the surprise of her husband and daughter who appeared rather pale. I tell you there is something wrong with that young woman... crazy if you ask me.”

  Dawn smiled and wondered if perhaps Flanna was right.

  “So Lady Gerwan finally sits herself down, and then downs a whole goblet of wine as if she was parched beyond reason. Then she chugs down another quick one after that and starts blathering about how pleased she is that her beautiful daughter and Cree will soon wed.”

  Dawn’s smile faltered some at the thought of them wedding, but then she recalled Cree’s words to trust him and so her smile once again brightened.

  “And poor Sloan,” Flanna said with a chuckle. “Cree has assigned him,
actually it’s a punishment for not protecting you well enough, to guard Lucerne. At least that’s the way she looks at it. Cree on the other hand wants to know what his intended is up to at all times.” Flanna shook her head. “Sloan is not a happy man and I don’t blame him. Who would want to be around that harpy all day?”

  Dawn hadn’t known Cree punished Sloan and a terrible punishment it was to be stuck with that woman.

  “I also found out that a warrior has been assigned to report all Bree’s movements and whereabouts to Cree, though I hear tell that she isn’t up to much. When she’s not tending Old Mary, she’s helping Elsa. She’s not one to sit around idle that one and she’s a sweet thing and so grateful that Cree has offered her a home here.”

  Dawn felt a twinge of guilt for turning Bree away that day she had come to the cottage and asked to speak with her. It seemed that Bree was sincere and she hoped that her innocence would soon be proven.

  “Tongues are stirring once again about the man who attacked you. It seems that the tracks just disappeared. They were there one minute and then suddenly they were gone, as if the person vanished into thin air. The villagers are claiming him a ghost or demon, depends on who you talk with and who has had the most to drink. But you have to admit that it is strange. I mean how do tracks just suddenly stop?”

  That was a good question, especially with him having suffered a wound. Why wasn’t there a blood trail? She wondered where the tracks were and if she could have a look for herself. Maybe Cree would take her in the morning.

  Flanna joined Dawn in a glass of the fine wine and continued chatting. She caught Dawn unaware when she asked, “Did Ann Gerwan pay you a visit and advise you to go away and not darken her daughter’s bright future?”

  In a sense, Dawn supposed that was exactly what Ann had suggested and so she nodded.

  “Don’t pay her any heed, she’s just trying to protect that crazy daughter of hers.” She stood. “I better get back and see that things are running properly, but I’m glad Cree gave me permission to spend some time with you. I was eager to share with you what I had learned thus far.”

  Dawn tapped her chest.

  “No need to thank me, I enjoy snooping and uncovering secrets,” Flanna said with a whisper, then tilted her head to stare at Dawn with a raised brow. “You look upset again. Was it something I said?”

  Dawn shook her head, not quite sure what was disturbing her, though she certainly had enough problems to choose from.

  “Don’t you go worrying yourself. All will go well, you’ll see. Cree won’t have it any other way.” She gave Dawn’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and then out the door she went.

  Dawn found herself pacing again shortly after Flanna left and growing annoyed. Secrets. There were just too many secrets and Dawn appeared to be at the center of them all. And Lord forbid that one secret should be brought to light. It would be the ruin of lives, the death of some and yet freedom for her.

  Dawn continued pacing, thinking, and growing more frustrated.

  ~~~

  Cree sat in his chair at the dais ignoring the talk going on around him, his thoughts on how long and hard he had fought to get here. He had wanted a better life not just for himself but also his sister and the men and women who had fought along with him. He had known things would not prove easy but he had been determined, still was, to have what he wanted.

  He had never expected to fall in love along the way. And listening to the inane chatter going on around him made him realize all the more how much he wanted Dawn as his wife. The thought of being straddled to Lucerne for the rest of his life made him think that he would much prefer death.

  His eyes latched onto Flanna entering the Great Hall. She had to be returning from visiting Dawn and he almost bolted out of the chair to go ask her how Dawn was. Damn but he missed her terribly and he couldn’t wait until later when he would see her again.

  His muscles grew taut and he inched his way up to sit straighter in his chair when he noticed that the lines on Flanna’s face were drawn tight, as if in concern and he immediately wondered if it had anything to do with Dawn. He went to stand when Roland Gerwan directed a remark to him that silenced everyone at the table.

  “I hear the McCluskys were trapped here by a snowstorm. You are wise not to have them in the keep, heathens the lot of them, especially the son Torr. I have heard tales of him that are not fit to be repeated.”

  Cree turned a scowl on the man. “Perhaps I should invite them to join us and we can ask them if the tales are true.”

  Ann Gerwan gasped. “If that is your wish, my lord, then Lucerne and I will take our leave.”

  So the lady does not wish to see her old lover. Did she fear he would reveal their secret tryst those many years ago? Cree also wondered if Ann Gerwan would seek out Kirk and speak with him privately now that she knew he was here. Perhaps he could manage to hasten that meeting.

  “The McCluskys are fine warriors and are far from heathens. I will have them join us for a meal and you will see for yourself.” He didn’t give anyone a chance to debate the issue with him. He stood. “Now if you will excuse me there is a matter I must attend to.”

  “Is it that important that you must attend to it now?” Lucerne asked, as if insulted that he should even think of excusing himself.

  “Yes, it is,” Cree said and gave a nod to Sloan reminding him to remain close to Lucerne, and he rolled his eyes as if he was suffering the torments of hell. Cree ignored him and the disapproving glares and went to find Flanna.

  Servants stopped to move aside and lower their heads as Cree headed along the narrow stone passageway that connected the kitchen to the keep, though kept it at a safe enough distance in case of a fire.

  He knew he’d find Flanna in the kitchen. Turbett and she had been spending much time together. It seemed that the pair was attracted to each other, though no one would ever think them a fine match. Where he was broad and thick, Flanna was short and narrow and more than plain features. And yet the two wore the happiest expressions when around each other.

  Cree stopped abruptly just before stepping into the kitchen. Is that how others viewed Dawn and him? Did most believe them odd fitting? He shook his head. He didn’t care what others thought. How he and Dawn felt was the only thing that mattered.

  Work stopped as soon as Cree walked into the kitchen.

  “My lord, is there a problem with the food?” Turbett asked, as if he could not believe his own question.

  “Rest easy, Turbett, nothing is ever wrong with the meals you prepare, I but wish to speak with Flanna.”

  Turbett nodded, though frowned and Cree got the feeling that Flanna may have shared her concern with him.

  Flanna stepped forward and nodded toward the storage room. Cree followed her silent suggestion and she followed him into the small space.

  Cree quickly asked, “Is Dawn all right?”

  “She is upset?”

  “Why?”

  “It seems the reason Ann Gerwan was late was because she went to see Dawn and advised her to leave here and not darken her daughter’s bright future. Of course those are my words but Dawn’s nod confirmed that it went something like that.”

  Cree didn’t waste a minute, he turned and left Flanna staring after him, though she wore a smile. The devil was going to protect his own.

  It didn’t take long before Cree was entering Dawn’s cottage, not bothering to knock, but then he never did. He saw that his unannounced entrance had brought her pacing, in front of the hearth, to an abrupt stop. But what concerned him the most was the sadness in her eyes.

  He was at her side in an instant and she fell into his embrace just as quickly. He felt her body shudder and begin to tremble and he knew that she was crying. And it ripped at his heart far worse than any knife ever could.

  He held her tight and let her weep. He assumed that Ann Gerwan was the cause of her tears. He would find out for certain as soon as Dawn’s tears were spent and she could explain. And then he would eventua
lly see that the woman suffered for making Dawn cry.

  Dawn didn’t want to let go of Cree. She had never been more relieved to see him. Somehow her anger had turned to an overwhelming sadness and all she wanted, all she ached for was his arms around her. And now that he was here, she never wanted him to let her go.

  Her arms went around his neck when he lifted her and carried her into the other room, and when he sat on the bed resting her in his lap, she laid her head on his shoulder. They sat that way until Dawn’s tears faded and her heaving stopped.

  Cree lifted her chin and wiped the last of her tears off her cheeks with his finger. “Now you will tell me who made you cry so badly, so that I may whip the person to shreds.”

  He was not teasing; he meant it and Dawn could never knowingly be the cause of someone’s suffering. So she decided that instead of answering, she would kiss him. Besides she wanted to kiss him. His kisses were magical and at the moment she needed his magic.

  She brushed her lips over his, though surprisingly he didn’t respond. So she pressed her lips to his in a more assertive kiss and still he didn’t respond. He always responded and that he didn’t... troubled her.

  “You’ll not distract me with kisses; I’ll have my answer.”

  He was determined to have his way; she heard it in the strength of his tone and Cree always got his way. Unless she could distract him with...

  Slowly her hand crept down along his chest, over taut muscles, and images of him naked sprang into her mind. She loved tracing her fingers over every inch of him, the teasing not only would grow him hard but would turn her wet.

  A tingle settled between her legs and turned quickly to a soft pulse. She was ready to take him inside her now and that was what she wanted to do... make love with him and forget the pain her true mother had caused her.