by Bree Wolf
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Book
Free gift
Prologue
Chapter One – A Looming Threat
Chapter Two – A Man’s Weakness
Chapter Three – For the Love of a Child
Chapter Four – A Woman’s Choice
Chapter Five – Shared Sorrow
Chapter Six – In the Bright of Day
Chapter Seven – A Sister’s Advice
Chapter Eight – A Husband’ Claim
Chapter Nine – The Old Ruins
Chapter Ten – A Mother’ Strength
Chapter Eleven – An Echo of the Past
Chapter Twelve – Dark Memories
Chapter Thirteen – A Daughter’s Gift
Epilogue
Overview Love's Second Chance Series
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Prologue
Overview A Forbidden Love Novella Series
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About Bree
Haunted & Revered
The Scotsman’s Destined Love
(#15 Love’s Second Chance Series)
by Bree Wolf
Haunted & Revered - The Scotsman’s Destined Love
by Bree Wolf
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Art by Victoria Cooper
Copyright © 2019 Sabrina Wolf
www.breewolf.com
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Our Children
Acknowledgements
A great, big thank-you to my dedicated beta readers and proofreaders, Michelle Chenoweth, Monique Takens and Kim Bougher, who read the rough draft and help me make it better.
Also a heartfelt thank-you to all my wonderful readers who pick up book after book and follow me on these exciting adventures of love and family. I love your company and savor every word of your amazing reviews! Thank you so much! There are no words!
About the Book
A proud Scotsman.
A determined lass.
And a fight like no other.
Scotland 1811: ALASTAIR BRUNWOOD, a tall and proud warrior of a fierce Highland clan, finds himself shattered by the loss of his wee daughter. Determined to harden his heart, he retreats from his loving wife, existing as a mere shadow of himself.
Until the threat of a new love for Deidre arrives on the horizon.
DEIDRE BRUNWOOD has loved her stubborn husband all her life. He makes her knees go weak and sets her blood on fire. Never will she believe that her heart could ever be conquered by another. And yet, a seer whispers of a new love that will find her by the old ruins up on the cliff top on the day marked by a blue flower.
While Alastair forces himself to grant her this chance for happiness, Deidre is far from willing to accept it. If she must, she will fight him, fight Fate itself because her heart’s choice was made long ago.
And then the day of the blue flower arrives…
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Prologue
Greystone Castle, Scotland
Autumn 1809
“Will nothing keep you from your little sanctuary? Not even the child in your belly?”
Standing on a small ladder, Deidre Brunwood felt her hand pause as she heard Henrietta’s voice call out to her, a teasing chuckle following her words as the tall woman stepped out of the thick hedge growing around the small, lost garden Deidre had made her own.
Situated between the outer wall and the castle wall itself, it could only be reached through a small gap in the tall-growing hedge. A gap one could not see if one did not know where to look. Untended for years, it had grown wild, and Deidre remembered well the day she’d first stumbled upon it; an oasis of greens of all shades mingling with bright yellows, dark reds and stunning violets. Her soul had soared to the heavens upon seeing it, and Deidre had known in that moment that she’d found a piece of her heart.
“Why don’t you ask someone to help you with the apple harvest?” Henrietta suggested as she came walking over, her short flaxen hair dancing upon her shoulders. She bore a tall, striking figure despite her slender build, an Englishwoman by birth, but a Scot at heart. Married to Deidre’s cousin Connor, Laird of Clan Brunwood, Henrietta had been a close friend for many years.
“Mama, fwower!” Henrietta’s two-year-old daughter Bridget exclaimed, pulling on her mother’s skirts and pointing at a pale rose, still at bloom this late in the year. Her blond hair shone as brightly as her mother’s, and her deep blue eyes whispered of a daring spirit, eagerly reaching for the wonders the world promised her.
Smiling, Henrietta brushed a hand over Bridget’s head as she shifted her balance to accommodate baby Aileen, who lay sleeping peacefully in the crook of her other arm. At three-month-old, Aileen knew nothing of what her big sister spoke so ardently. Her little head sprouted dark brown curls, and her eyes glowed in a striking green whenever she dared to open them, her little heart far more content to look inward than to face the world. The girls were like fire and water, different in temperament and appearance, but the glow on their little faces never failed to make Deidre’s heart ache.
Plucking the apple she’d been reaching for, Deidre climbed down the ladder and laid it down in the basket that was already half-full. “I find it soothing,” she told her friend as her hand came to rest upon the small bulge under her dress.
Henrietta stepped closer, the look in her blue eyes tense. “Are you not worried that it might…?” her voice trailed off as her gaze dipped lower to where Deidre’s hand rested protectively over her unborn child.
Deidre swallowed as she remembered the many pregnancies that had ended in loss. “I dunna believe it makes a difference. I’ve stayed abed before and it didna help.” Her insides clenched. “I still lost my babe.” Her hand brushed softly over her belly. “I believe the best I can do is to not be afraid, to live and smile and laugh as much as I can. I dunna know whether I’m meant to hold this babe in my arms or not, but I will love every moment I have with him or her.” Tears filled her eyes, but Deidre quickly blinked them away. She’d already shed a lifetime’s worth of tears over the loss of her children, not one of whom had ever drawn breath. She would not cry today when there was no reason to do so.
Drawing in a deep breath, Deidre lifted her head, willing the sadness back down. “What brings ye here? Have ye come to lend a hand?”
Henrietta chuckled, glancing at Bridget chasing after a butterfly, her little legs carrying her through the tall grass. “I’m afraid all my hands are currently occupied,” she said, rocking little Aileen as the girl began to stir. A soft melody drifted from her lips as she hummed, brushing the pad of her thumb over her daughter’s crinkled forehead, soothing the sorrows that had found her in her dreams until
the little girl slept peacefully once more.
A lump settled in Deidre’s throat as longing tugged on her heart yet again. She loved Henrietta’s children dearly, but they only strengthened the yearning for a child of her own.
“I brought you this,” Henrietta whispered, reaching into her apron and withdrawing a letter. “It was delivered this morning, and I’ve been looking for you ever since.” Her blue eyes met Deidre’s. “It came from Seann Dachaigh Tower.”
“Moira?” Deidre asked, her hand reaching out for the envelope.
Henrietta nodded. “It seems to be her handwriting if I’m not mistaken.” Her jaw tensed at the mention of the woman who’d tried to steal her husband. “Connor confirmed it.”
Deidre nodded, her gaze gliding over Moira’s flourished handwriting. They’d been friends since childhood, and they’d grown closer still when Deidre had married Moira’s elder brother Alastair. Nothing had ever come between them until the day Moira had gone too far.
For her betrayal, she’d been banished from her home, sent to live with her mother’s old clan at Seann Dachaigh Tower. Life had not been easy for her, but Moira had come to see the error of her ways and fought hard to make amends and regain people’s trust. Ultimately, her devotion and loyalty to Clan MacDrummond had won her the laird’s heart and they’d been married only a few weeks past. Still, Alastair had never forgiven his sister for her betrayal, and ever since, Deidre had stood in the middle, trying her best to mend fences.
Breaking the seal, Deidre opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of parchment. She unfolded it, her eyes drawn to the words written there as an odd sense of foreboding fell over her.
Dearest Deirdre,
This is not an easy letter to write for I fear I must warn you of something that lies ahead. I will do my best to share with you all that I know, but I’m afraid the images I saw were shrouded as though hidden in a heavy fog. You will have to trust your heart to guide you as do I for I know that there is no better compass than the gentle soul that resides within you.
Deidre’s blood ran cold at Moira’s words.
Three months ago when she’d first learned that she was with child, Deidre had travelled to Seann Dachaigh Tower to speak to Moira, to ask her if she knew what fate her unborn child was destined for. Would it live? Or would she lose it as she’d lost all the others?
Ever since she’d been a lass, Moira’d had the Sight. Dreams that whispered of future events, some clear and some shrouded in mist, impossible to understand until they came to pass. One such dream had led her to conspire against Connor’s and Henrietta’s marriage. A dream she had misunderstood.
As hopeful as Deidre tried to be, she could not deny that she feared for her child’s life. How could she not? And so she had gone to Moira, asking for help. Only Moira had not been able to tell her anything as no dream whispering of her child’s future had yet found her. Still, Moira had promised to write should anything change. Should she see anything in her dreams.
Deidre felt her hands begin to tremble.
“Are you all right?” Henrietta asked, her voice full of concern as she came to stand by Deidre, her unburdened arm coming around her friend’s shoulders. “You’ve gone awfully pale. What does she write? Is everything all right?”
Unable to speak, Deidre held up the letter, gesturing for Henrietta to read along.
The images that found me were blurred and shifted quickly, and I’m afraid I’m far from certain as to their meaning. I pray you will be able to make more sense of them.
At first, I found myself looking upon a blue flower, its petals strangely tined and not smooth but as though wrinkled. The colour moved and shifted into different shades in stark contrast to the bright light surrounding it. I felt blinded, my eyes seeing nothing but white.
As far as I can tell the flower is nothing more but a marker. It marks the day when something will come to pass. As to what that is, I cannot say for certain. All I know is that I saw you up on the cliffs by the old ruins, brightness around you. A sense of utter sadness washed over me, making my heart ache. Still, it only lingered for a short while before all of a sudden my heart felt ready to burst with a new love.
“A new love?” Henrietta whispered beside her. “What does she mean?”
Deidre shook her head, her heart torn. “I dunna know.” She’d expected news about her child, and yet, Moira’s words spoke of something else. Could this be about her husband? About Alastair?
As you well know, my interpretation of these dreams is not free of error. I do not know what will happen. I can merely speculate.
Of course, I worry about what they could mean for I cannot deny that the images I saw echoed with warning. However, I’ve recently come to understand that my ability to interpret these dreams is less accurate whenever I myself am emotionally involved. If that is the case, I can no longer be objective and my interpretation becomes flawed.
I love you as I would my own sister, dearest Deidre, and so I fear that I’m not of much help. All I can tell you is that on the day marked by the blue flower, you’re to seek out the old ruins and there you will stumble upon a great love.
I will not say more and leave all else in your trusted hands.
Be safe.
Moira
By the time, Deidre reached the end of the letter, her limbs were shaking so hard, she sank down into the leave-covered grass, Henrietta beside her. Her eyes closed, and one hand reached out to her unborn child as her mind pictured her beloved husband.
Was that what Moira had been reluctant to say? That harm would befall Alastair? That at some point in the future Deidre would stumble upon a new love?
“Impossible,” she whispered into the stillness of her sanctuary, feeling Henrietta’s arm tighten upon her shoulders. “Even if…” Her eyes opened, and she felt tears run down her cheeks as she turned to look upon her friend. “Even if he were…” Deidre swallowed. “I could never give my heart to another. Never.”
Blinking back tears, Henrietta nodded, her hand seeking Deidre’s, squeezing it gently. “I know,” she whispered, then cleared her throat, casting a watchful look at Aileen. “Perhaps Moira is wrong.” Her jaw tensed. “After all, she’s been wrong before. Perhaps whatever she saw will not happen to you, but to another.”
Deidre nodded, wishing she could grasp the lifeline Henrietta was offering her. Still, she knew that if Moira had not been certain she would not have written this letter. Like no other, Moira knew the bond that connected Deidre and Alastair, the love that had bound them to one another ever since they’d been children.
It was unbreakable.
Forever.
Destined.
“Will you tell Alastair about this?” Henrietta asked, aware of the tension between brother and sister. Even though Deidre had all but forced her husband to follow her when she’d slipped away to Seann Dachaigh Tower three months ago, brother and sister had barely spoken a word to each other when he had arrived to fetch his wife home. Alastair still had not forgiven Moira. Could not.
He was a proud man.
Stubborn.
Unyielding.
“’Twill only anger him,” Deidre said, knowing from the look in Henrietta’s eyes that her friend agreed. “He’ll be furious with her, and it’ll push them even farther apart.” She sighed, feeling exhausted. “I still have hope that one day they’ll find their way back to each other.”
Henrietta swallowed, the look in her eyes wary. “What about…your new love? The man you will meet by the ruins?”
Deidre shook her head. “I dunna care. My heart belongs to Alastair. It always has, and it always will.”
A smile came to Henrietta’s face and she squeezed Deidre’s hand. “There’s not a single doubt−”
“None!” Her heart beat strong, and yet, her jaw quivered. “But what if…?” Both her hands reached for Henrietta’s. “What if harm comes to him? What if that’s the warning Moira felt? What do I do?”
Henrietta heaved a deep sigh
before her gaze moved from the letter in Deidre’s lap to the small bump under her dress. “It is as you said, you do not know what will happen. None of us do. All any of us can do is be happy and enjoy the time we have. What else is there?”
Deidre nodded, knowing Henrietta was right. Still, a new fear settled in her heart, and she knew it would haunt her for all the days to come. The fear to not only lose her child, but her husband as well. For although nothing could ever make her love another, her heart would break into a thousand pieces, never to be mended again, if Fate dared to separate her from the man she loved.
1
A Looming Threat
Greystone Castle, Scotland
Winter 1811
Two Years Later
Snow fell heavily upon the old ruins, hiding the ancient boulders under a blanket of white, glittering frost. The winds blew strong, carrying the tiny flakes on swift wings, swirling them in the air before allowing them to settle in peace. The cliff top fell away sharply not far from where Deidre stood in the deep snow, waves crashing below, the sea a raging monster, snarling and spitting.
Her feet were warm in the fur-lined boots she wore, and her cloak held off the sharp sting of the ice-cold wind. Still, her cheeks burnt from the icy needles assaulting her skin, and she knew she could not linger here much longer.
And yet, her heart ached at the thought of leaving this place.
Ever since the day Fate had taken yet another child from her, Deidre had somehow found her way to this spot. Again and again.
Why, she could not say.
