Day gave way to night and Dawn soon found herself seeking the solace of her bed. She was about to slip into her only nightdress when knock sounded at her door. She was hesitant about answering it with the lateness of the hour. If it was Lila she would have simply entered by now or Paul would have called out to her. So who was it at her door?
She cautiously opened the door, though just a crack and was surprised to see Dorrie standing there.
“Old Mary has need of you,” Dorrie said annoyed.
Dawn nodded and when she opened the door and stepped out Dorrie was gone. It was just as well, she had no desire to have Dorrie accompany her to Old Mary’s place. She hurried along, the village quiet this time of night and the air chilled. Autumn would soon be gone and winter upon them. She wrapped her threadbare cloak more tightly around her and hurried along worried over Old Mary. She lived removed from the village, her cottage set back in the woods.
As she trekked through the woods she recalled Cree’s warning; do not go into the woods until I return and give you permission. She was disobeying him, though how would he know?
Dawn stopped abruptly thinking she had heard footfalls behind her. The thought suddenly hit her; what if this was a ruse? What if there was nothing wrong with Old Mary?
Fear prickled her flesh and her first thought was to run for home, but she thought of Old Mary. What if the old woman was ill and needed her help? She had no choice but to proceed to her cottage and see for herself.
The attack came so fast that Dawn had no time to react. One minute she was standing and the next she was on the ground. Her heart pumped violently in her chest as she tried to hurry to her feet, but he was on her before she could even try.
Fear would tie you in knots if you let it, her mum would always say. Action, Dawn, action, her mum would remind. And so Dawn listened to her mum.
She swung hard catching her attacker in the face. He grunted and fell off her and she scurried to her feet. She didn’t get far, his hand grabbing her hair, knotting it in his fingers and yanking her back. She stumbled, though made sure to remain on her feet. She turned around swinging and caught him in the side of his head. He swore and swung catching her in the jaw and sent her stumbling. If she could scream she would have, not from the punch but from the way it felt, as if her hair was being ripped from her head as he stopped her from falling with a yank of her hair.
He swung again only this time she was quick to react and he caught the corner of her eye though not as hard if she hadn’t moved. They scuffled and she went down, he on top of her and when he fumbled with her skirt, pulling it up, her fear escalated.
She had to stop him, too much had been taken from her and she would not surrender a single thing more. She clawed at his face and he slapped her hard, stunning her. Frantically, her hands searched along the ground for anything to use as a weapon and she blessed the heavens when her hand connected with a large stone. She didn’t hesitate; she wrapped her hand tightly around it and brought it up against the side of his head with as much force as she could muster.
He tumbled off her and she hurried to her feet, throwing the rock at his face before she took off. She didn’t stop; she flew like the wind until she reached her cottage and once inside she latched the door and collapsed against it.
She didn’t cry, though her body trembled and she comforted herself with a tight hug. With the darkness of the woods and being busy fighting her attacker off, she had had little time to see his identity. But for one brief moment when a cloud had drifted off the partial moon, she had caught sight of him.
Only now did she have time to digest what she had seen. It had been Goddard and she shivered at the thought. And worse Dorrie had helped him. But why? Why would Goddard attack her and why would Dorrie help him do such a thing or did she know his plans? And who would she tell of the attack? Who would care?
Cree.
She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the door. His name had sprung instantly to mind. What did that tell her? Did she believe he would truly care or did she hope he would?
An hour later after debating the issue she picked herself up off the floor and took herself to bed wondering if she should even bother to tell Cree of the incident. Would it make a difference?
She slept fitfully that night and woke shortly after dawn. She winced when she yawned herself awake and her hand quickly went to her jaw. She could feel the swelling and she had no doubt that it was bruised, though how badly she couldn’t say. The corner of her eye also pained her and she wondered if that was bruised as well.
Dawn debated about paying a quick visit to Lila. She would be able to determine the extent of her injures. She dressed quickly and threw her cloak on pulling the hood up. No soon as she stepped out of the cottage then she saw that Cree and his men were returning. They were not far off, a few more feet and they would be upon her, and she did not want Cree to see her before she knew how bad her wounds appeared.
She hurried around to the back of her cottage waiting for the noise of the galloping horses to pass by. She waited a few more minutes to be certain and then she crept around to the front of the cottage ready to take off for Lila’s place.
A hand reached out and grabbed her arm and with the memories of last night fresh in her mind she fisted her hand ready to protect herself.
Her fist was swallowed in Cree’s strong hand and he laughed until her hood fell back and he saw her face.
Chapter Eighteen
“What happened? Who did this to you?” Cree demanded not letting go of her arm and glaring at the two bruises on her face. Someone had struck her hard and he was going to make him pay.
Dawn tried to free her arm and when Cree realized that he was preventing her from communicating with him, he released her. “Tell me,” he demanded once more.
He caught the way her glances darted past him and he turned to see several villagers staring at them and whispering. He took her arm once more and directed her to his horse. He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up on the horse. Then he mounted behind her, his one arm firm around her waist and his other hand taking the reins and they rode to the keep with many eyes following them.
Dawn had pulled up her hood so that no one could see her wounds but Cree had seen them all too clearly and he was burning with such a raging anger that he was ready to kill. Who had dared to touch her? And how far had he gone? He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
He dismounted as soon as he brought his horse to halt in front of the keep. Then he reached up and with his hands around her waist pulled her gently off the horse. One of his warriors took the reins and led the horse away as they climbed the steps.
Once inside Cree entered the Great Hall and when he caught sight of Sloan, he gave him a nod and the man followed beside him once Cree reached his side. Not a word was uttered until they were in the solar and the door closed.
Cree reached for Dawn’s hood and shoved it off her head. “I thought I ordered you to keep an eye on her.”
Sloan stood speechless for a moment, then he shook his head. “I had a warrior watching her cottage until late and he returned this morning.”
Cree felt Dawn trembling beside him and he silently cursed himself. He released her arm, slipped her worn cloak off her, cursing silently again that she had no decent cloak to keep her warm, and with a gentle hand to her back guided her to a chair by the fire.
Sloan went to the door, opened it and shouted, “Hot cider now.”
A pitcher and tankards were delivered in seconds and Sloan filled one tankard and handed it to Cree.
He took it and said so only Sloan could hear, “Go get the healer, but do not hurry.”
Sloan nodded knowing that Cree wanted time to talk with the lass. He left closing the door behind him.
Cree went to Dawn and handed her the tankard. Her hands trembled as she took it from him and he silently cursed again. What had she been through and would she be truthful about what happened to her?
He scooped
up a small bench near the fire and placed it in front of her and sat. His anger mounted when he once again laid eyes on the two bruises. The one at the corner of her right eye wasn’t too bad and from the look of it he assumed that she hadn’t taken the full blunt of the punch. Her right jawline however was a different matter. It was dark purple and swollen. The blow had to have knocked her down and possibly out.
His hand suddenly stilled. He had not realized that his fingers had explored her face along with his eyes. He did not recall raising his hand or touching her face but there he was, his fingers gently exploring her wounds.
Her skin was so soft; a pleasure to touch and he quickly dropped his hand away. He needed answers and he needed them now. “Tell me what happened. Tell me everything,” he said sternly and took the tankard from her hand so that she would be free to communicate with him and placed it by the hearth to keep it warm.
The warmth of the cider and the fire had eased her trembling, though not her trepidation. She was familiar with his anger from her time spent with him in the hut, though the anger she saw burning in his eyes now surpassed anything she had seen then. And his harsh tone made her worry that some of his anger was directed at her.
“I am not a patient man.”
Dawn nodded and began. She patted her chest and then pressed her hands together as if in prayer, tilted her head and rested her hands to her cheek, then made a gestured as if she knocked on a door.
“Someone knocked on your door late when you were asleep?”
She made the same sleeping gesture but shook her head.
“You were getting ready to go to sleep?”
She nodded.
“You were still in your clothes?’
She nodded again.
“Who was at the door?”
Dawn hesitated fearful for Dorrie but then Dorrie had not cared what happened to her.
“Was it a man?”
Dawn shook her head.
“A woman, though certainly no friend.”
Dawn nodded her head slowly.
“You will point her out to me. Continue.”
Dawn moved forward in the chair and gestured with a raised hand that she wanted to stand. Cree stood moving the small bench out of her way and stepped aside. Dawn hunched over and pretended to walk slow, curling her fingers as if gnarled and old.
“Old Mary?”
Dawn put a hand to her stomach and frowned.
“Of course,” he said understanding. “This woman told you that Old Mary was ill and asked for you. She knew you would not hesitate to go help her. But did you not think for once it might be a ruse?”
She nodded and walked her fingers along in the air.
Cree nodded as well. “That’s right, Old Mary leaves a bit further in the woods. You realized after a while that it could be a trap,” —he scowled— “but you could not be sure and worried for Old Mary so you continued on.”
She nodded and then shivered.
“Someone jumped out of the woods and attacked you.”
She gestured how she fought the attacker and how he hit her and how she fell and she brought her hand down on top of her other hand to show how he had landed on her and she could not stop herself from shuddering.
Cree was at her side in an instant, his arm coiling possessively around her waist. “Did he—”
She shook her head knowing what he would ask and not wanting to hear it, not wanting to recall just how close she had come to having Goddard have his way with her. She hadn’t realized that she had rested her head to Cree’s chest and when she did, she lifted it quickly to stare into his heated eyes.
“You are telling me the truth, Dawn?”
She nodded.
“How did you get away from him?”
She slipped out of his arms and went to the fireplace and patted one of the stones and fisted her hand as if she held one, then swung it at her head. She then pumped her arms.
“You knocked him out with a stone and took off running.”
She nodded and did something she questioned afterwards; she returned to his side, his arms going around her once again.
“Confirm for me again that he did not take your virginity.”
Dawn shook her finger from side to side in front of him, tapped his chest and then tapped her own.
“I’m the only one who has ever touched you.”
She nodded and she thought for a brief moment that he smiled and for some reason it warmed her heart.
There was a knock at the door and Cree walked Dawn over to the chair and had her sit and before he bid the person to enter, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And it soothed her more than she ever thought possible.
Sloan entered first and stepped aside for Elsa to precede him and behind her came Lila who flew past them both and headed straight for Dawn.
“Good lord, what happened?” Lila asked bending down in front of Dawn and reaching out to hug her. “Elsa was at the cottage checking on Thomas when a warrior came for her with news that you were injured. I left Thomas with one of Elsa’s helpers and came with her. Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
“Silence!”
Lila realized her mistake and immediately sought to rectify it. She stood and turned to Cree, her head bowed. “Please, my lord, forgive my disrespect for not acknowledging your presence and asking permission to speak with my friend. I was so worried about her that I foolishly gave thought to nothing else.”
Fearing Cree would punish Lila, Dawn stood at her friend’s side and began gesturing fast.
“Dawn says that I speak much too often when I shouldn’t, but that I am her dearest friend and she would appreciate it if you would forgive my bad manners. And that since I am here you should take advantage of the fact that I can understand her better than anyone.”
Dawn was not happy to see Cree’s scowl deepen.
“Since you understand her so well, Lila, ask her if she knows her attacker and who the woman was who came to her door last night and told her that Old Mary was not well and had asked for her,” Cree said annoyance edging his voice.
Dawn made two gestures and Lila said, “Goddard and Dorrie, my lord.”
Cree turned to Sloan and without a word exchanged between them, Sloan nodded and left the room.
“The healer will examine your bruises now, Dawn,” Cree said then turned to Lila. “You are no longer needed. You will leave.”
Lila bowed and turned to leave but Dawn stopped her, gave her a hug and gestured something to her. Lila smiled and hurried out of the room.
Elsa spent a few minutes looking Dawn over and told Cree that it appeared Dawn was well and that the bruises would heal with time. She then left, quietly closing the door behind her.
“Rest,” he said to Dawn and handed her the tankard of cider kept warm by the fire. “And do not leave this room until I give you permission.”
She nodded and he walked out of the room in no rush and yet Dawn thought she sensed his need to hurry off.
Dawn sat staring at the fire her thoughts on Cree. How could he be angry and demanding and yet at the same time have a tender touch. At least that was how his arm had felt around her waist tender and... possessive. But then she was his property and he had warned her that he protected what belonged to him.
She sighed though it could not be heard, only felt deep down inside her. She took a drink of cider, rested the tankard on the small bench and let herself relax in the chair. The quiet and warmth lolled her, as did the sense of safety and having had a troubled sleep last night, her body surrendered to the peaceful quiet and she drifted off into a contented slumber.
~~~
Cree glared at the shivering woman, though did not feel an ounce of sorrow for her.
“Please, my lord, I beg you, I did nothing wrong, I only took a message to the dumb one’s cottage,” Dorrie pleaded.
Cree pushed away from the dais he leaned against and approached her. “Dawn. Her name is Dawn.”
“I meant Dawn
no harm, I but delivered the message,” she said her eyes downcast.
“Who gave you the message?” he asked stopping only inches away from her.
“One of Colum’s warriors who pledged allegiance to you after the attack, my lord.”
“You know his name?”
She shook her head. “No, my lord.”
“That’s odd, I hear you know all of Colum’s warriors.”
Dorrie’s cheeks flamed red.
“I don’t give second chances, Dorrie,” he warned.
“I believe it was Seth, my lord,” she said quickly.
“It is good that you recalled his name,” he said, though he had already known it. Sloan had taken stock of all the Colum’s warriors who had remained after the attack and there was one missing... Seth. He had his men searching for him now.
“I am sorry, my lord,” Dorrie apologized again. “I truly meant no harm.”
Cree doubted that very much. “Whether you meant it or not you were the cause of one of your own being harmed and that cannot go unpunished.”
Dorrie fell to her knees in front of him, her head bowed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, please, my lord, I am sorry, so very sorry,” she pleaded through sobs.
“I’m sure you are and will be even more so when you are made to suffer for your misdeed.”
Dorrie’s sobs stopped and she raised a stark white face to him.
Cree turned to Sloan. “Put her in the stocks until I say otherwise.”
“No, no please, my lord, I meant no harm,” Dorrie begged and continued to do so as two warriors dragged her away.
Sloan poured them each a tankard of ale and handed one to Cree as he rounded the dais and sat.
“You know what you need to do if you want the silent one protected,” Sloan said.
“Dawn,” Cree snapped. “Her name is Dawn.”
“You must make Dawn your mistress, then no one will dare do her harm.”
“Mistresses can be a troubling lot,” Cree said after a swallow of ale.
Sloan raised his tankard. “They can also prove beneficial. But we’re not talking about whether she would truly be your mistress or not. As long as others believe that she is then it is enough to keep her safe.”
Highlander Unchained (Highlander Trilogy 1) Page 14
