Highlander Unchained (Highlander Trilogy 1)

by Donna Fletcher

  “So I give her the title without the benefits?”

  “Are there benefits in bedding a woman without a voice?”

  “Watch what you say about her. She did right by me while I was held prisoner here.”

  Sloan nodded. “True enough and I must admit that I respect and admire her.”

  Cree quirked a brow.

  “She has strength and courage for one who cannot speak up for herself, though from the way her friend understood her I’d say she communicates more clearly than some who have voices. She also protected herself admirably against her attacker and did not even seek help from anyone after the deed was done. “

  “I doubt many would have helped her, the fools that they are.”

  “The fools belong to you now and are yours to protect,” Sloan reminded. “And there is one more thing you must consider, though it has probably already crossed your mind.”

  Cree nodded. “Why did Goddard return to attack a voiceless woman?”

  ~~~

  Silence greeted Cree when he returned to the solar, though what did he expect, for Dawn to suddenly find her voice. He approached the chair where she sat quietly and sensing no movement he realized that she had probably fallen asleep.

  He stared down at her. Her head lolled to the side and her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle as if shielding herself, though from who... him?

  She was wise to fear him, most, if not all, did. He had let nothing stand in the way of his mission, making a home for him and his men and their families. And most of all gaining respect of those that had used him to further their ends. He would hold a title now and have a proper wife who would bring with her a worthy lineage.

  He had refused to allow himself to care for any woman, not wanting one to get in the way and ruin his plans. He had seen too many powerful men fail for want of a woman and he had no intentions of having that happen to him. A woman was a means to an end to him. There were those women who satisfied his lusty needs and he wanted no more from them, and then there was the one who he would make his wife and who would bear his heirs. He would treat her with the respect she deserved, but he had given no thought to loving the woman he would wed.

  And this woman? His eyes had remained on Dawn. She was no beauty, though there was something about her that caught his eye and would not let go. Every time he looked upon her his breath would catch and he’d find himself getting aroused. No woman had ever affected him that way and he wondered why this one did.

  His anger spewed through him like raging fire at the thought that another man had dared to touch her, dared to take her innocence, dared to rob him of what was his. She was his property, she belonged to him and her innocence was his and his alone to take, if he so chose to take it.

  The thought of making her his fired his loins and the consequences of such action did little to cool him.

  He shook his head. Never had he debated a matter with himself. He always knew what had to be done, what must be done, whether difficult or not and he saw that it was done. And he knew what must be done if she was to be protected.

  He leaned down and gently scooped her up in his arms. She stirred and opened her eyes.

  “Sleep,” he ordered sternly and she obeyed resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her out of the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dawn woke with a start, blinking her eyes rapidly to bring herself fully awake for surely she was dreaming. The scent was strong in her nostrils; earth, pine and something else she could not quite grasp. She breathed deeply of the familiar scent trying to recognize it but for some reason it eluded her. She inhaled as if she could not get enough of it, as if it soothed her, and she wanted to linger in its comfort.

  Cree.

  The scent was all Cree, but how could that be?

  Her eyes spread wide and she realized that it was no dream and that she was in a rather large room in a bed that could easily sleep three people. She hastened out of it relieved to see that she was fully clothed, though her boots had been removed.

  She spun around growing dizzy at the size of the room. It was larger than her cottage. A fire burned brightly in the stone fireplace. A narrow table sat against one wall and on top sat a small chest, rolled parchments and several candles, though none were lit. Larger chests sat about the room as did two chairs and two tables, the smaller one tucked close to the side of the bed, unlit candles on top as well.

  It did not take Dawn long to realize that she was in Cree’s bed chamber and she hurried to put her boots on, grab her cloak draped over the one chair and head for the door slipping quietly out of the room after peering out in the narrow passageway to see that no one was about.

  She pulled her cloak up over her head and carefully made her way down the stone stairs listening to make certain no one was headed her way. When she reached the Great Hall she was relieved to see that only a couple of servants lingered about and so she hurried through and once outside she released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She also noticed from the activity in the village that it was late afternoon, close to dusk. She had slept much longer than she had thought, though her nap had given her strength and so she ran to her cottage seeking its solitude and its safety or was there any place that would be safe for her now?

  She stopped abruptly when she saw Dorrie locked in the stock, her eyes were swollen and red from crying and her garments and hair were already filthy from villagers throwing whatever was handy at her, mostly mud & dirt.

  “I’m sorry, Dawn,” she cried out. “Please, please, I beg you to speak on my behalf and ask Cree to free me. Please, please, oh God, I will never treat you badly again. Please, please.”

  Dawn stared bewildered while villagers took a wide berth around her as if they too feared they would suffer Dorrie’s fate if they should speak wrongly to her.

  Dawn hurried along keeping her face concealed and ignoring the whispers that surrounded her, so many whispers. Tongues were wagging and Dawn could only imagine what they were saying.

  At the moment she didn’t care. Dawn wanted nothing more than to get home and lock herself away from everyone. But most of all she wanted to wake from this never-ending nightmare.

  She halted in her tracks when she saw the warriors tossing things out of her cottage. The little she had was being set to flame. She ran praying they had not found the wrapped cloth that contained the only thing her mum had passed on to her.

  She flew past the men before they could stop her and her heart slammed into her chest when she saw that not a stitch of furniture was left in the cottage. She ran to the hearth now cold from the water that had been doused on it. She shifted the one stone in the fireplace until it came free and reached in to rescue the cloth she had hidden there.

  “You’re to come with us, Dawn.”

  She turned to see Sloan standing in the doorway. Fear rippled through her entire body. What would they do with her? Was she to be punished like Dorrie or would her punishment be worse for not obeying Cree and going into the woods when he had ordered her not to?

  She hugged the pouch to her chest and shivered.

  “There is nothing to fear,” Sloan said. “You have been given a different cottage.”

  His comment caught her unaware and she instinctively shrugged.

  “I understand that gesture,” Sloan grinned. “You’re asking why.”

  Dawn nodded, her fear receding, though just a bit.

  “Cree’s decision,” he said and stepping to the side he swept his hand at the door. “After you.”

  Dawn felt a tightening in her chest. This was her home. The one she and her mum had shared. She did not want to be moved to another cottage; she wanted to stay here where she was familiar with the drafty spots and the way the door rattled when the wind caught it. And from here she could take a few steps and be at Lila’s cottage. No she did not want to leave her home.

  And so she stood firm clutching the cloth and shaking her head.

  Sloan took a step
toward her and she took a step back. He stopped and smiled. “It is a nice cottage that has been made ready for you.”

  Dawn shook her head and pointed to the ground and then to her.

  “I understand that gesture too,” Sloan said surprised. “This is your home and you do not want to leave it.”

  She nodded.

  Sloan winced. “Unfortunately, it is not truly your home or your decision. Everything in the village belongs to Cree and he decides where each person will reside. You have no choice but to reside where he commands.”

  He was right. There was nothing she could do but obey. She cast one last sorrowful look around the small room; her home since she and her mum had arrived here and breathed a silent farewell, fearing it was not only her cottage that she was bidding farewell to.

  Dawn stopped just outside the door. Several women were gathered in a huddle a short distance away. They were whispering and pointing in her direction.

  Sloan stepped past her and shouted, “You have chores to attend to, be gone.”

  They scurried away, whispers trailing behind them.

  Dawn followed Sloan, though gave one last glance behind her and was sorry she did. She watched as her only garments were thrown on the fire. Her stomach knotted and her hands began to tremble. She turned around not wanting to think of what all this meant, though she was no fool. Cree was making it clear to all that Dawn was his.

  What she could not understand was why? Why did he want a woman who he refused to couple with? She was more confused than ever.

  A strong wind blew sending the shivers through her meager cloak and gray clouds raced overhead. She shivered again. A storm brewed and she did not care for storms. They frightened her, though she could not say why.

  Dawn halted when Sloan did and cast a wary eye at the cottage in front of her. This certainly could not be where he meant her to live. It was much too large for just her and was meant for one in service to the keep, which was why it sat close to the keep and tucked back a bit in the woods this way the person would have easy access to the servants’ entrances in the back.

  It struck her then what her living here would mean. It would say to all that she was in service to the lord of the keep.

  “This is your home now,” Sloan said and waved her forward.

  Her legs trembled so badly that she didn’t think she could move. All she could do was stare at the cottage and all it represented. How in such a short time could she have gone from being ignored by most and unwanted by a man to being the main fodder of gossip and being a kept woman?

  “Are you all right, Dawn? You have gone pale,” Sloan said.

  She took a breath and she could see the pity in Sloan’s eyes when there was no sound to be heard. She hated when anyone pitied her. Her mum had taught her that pity never did anyone any good.

  Deal with your lot with strength and courage and you will know no pity. Her mum’s words rang clear in her head and gave her the courage to toss her head up and march forward.

  Sloan followed, though stopped just before they reached the door. “Cree will be here to see you shortly.”

  Dawn turned to him and nodded. Then she smiled and bowed her head in thanks. There was no point in being rude to him. He followed Cree’s orders as did all.

  Sloan returned her smile, and looked about to say something then stopped, nodded, turned and walked away.

  Dawn lifted the latch on the cottage door and walked in. It wasn’t until a good wind wiped past her stirring the fire in the hearth that she hurried to close the door behind her. She stood eyes wide and mouth agape. The room was twice the size of her cottage with a table and four chairs in front of the hearth. A narrow table sat against one wall and on it sat wooden bowls and crocks while beneath sat stacked baskets. A long bench sat to another side with pegs above it along the wall. Two cloaks hung from the pegs, both wool one dark green, the other dark blue and lined with fur. Before she did anything she hid the pouch with her cherished possession behind the baskets until she could find a better place for it.

  She was surprised to see another doorway, though no door blocked its entrance. She wandered over and entered coming to a stop just inside the room. It was a fairly good-sized room with a bed that could hold two people and a flat-topped chest at the foot. The lit hearth kept the room more than comfortably warm and the wooden shutters on the lone window were closed, the latch firmly in place.

  The fire’s light flickered across the bed and Dawn stared at the fresh bedding and the lovely wool blankets not to mention the two overly stuffed pillows. It was much too elegant for her and much too large.

  The thought startled her. Of course the bed was too large, it was not meant for her to sleep in alone. Actually, it wasn’t meant for sleep.

  She took a quick step back and bumped into something solid. She turned even more quickly and scurried back away from Cree, the size of him filling the doorway.

  He glared at her for a moment then walked straight for her. He still wore all black and his size so over powered that he appeared the devil himself rushing at her. When he reached her, he simply grabbed her cloak pulling it off her shoulders.

  “You’ll not wear rags anymore.” He rolled it up and tossed it into the fire. It caught and burnt quickly.

  She inched her way toward the door not feeling comfortable with him in such an intimate setting.

  He scowled when he turned and saw what she was doing. He walked over to her, took hold of her arm and shoved her in front of him and through the doorway. He let her go once in the other room.

  “You will live here now.” He stared at her, a spark of passion glinting in his eyes.

  She gave a nod not knowing what else to do. It was a command after all and she had to obey. Her life was not her own; it belonged to him and as Sloan reminded; all in the village belonged to him.

  He did not like the frightened look in her eyes; he had seen it there too often, though he had to admit it was tinged with courage. Even though she feared, she fought it and bravely battled through whatever ordeal she faced.

  She had done that in the hut and what disturbed him was that there were times he wished he was back there with her, just the two of them. When he had stepped into the other room it had given him that sense of confinement with her and he had found himself growing aroused at the thought. Could he have that here with her, the feeling of being locked away from everything, only having each other? He had found certain contentment with her, though he did not understand it and did not want to try. He did however wish to experience it again and that was why while she slept he had issued orders to have her moved to this place, though Sloan believed it was because he had no choice but to make Dawn his mistress.

  It had been some time since Cree had done anything because he’d been forced to. His reputation alone was enough to make people fear and obey him and fear they should for he had no qualms about making those who disobeyed him suffer. As Dorrie was finding out now sitting in the stocks where she would remain for at least a week and others would learn from her misfortune... learn not to mistreat Dawn.

  “You may take whatever food you wish from the kitchen or have meals brought here to you. I have already spoken with Turbett and he awaits your visits. ”

  Her eyes turned wide and she went to gesture but he held up his hand.

  “I will brook no argument. You will do as I say.”

  This would not bode well for her with the villagers, receiving special treatment, especially when it came to food.

  “I’m waiting for a response.”

  Again her eyes widened for no one except Lila or Paul ever expected her to respond. She nodded, though she wished she could have protested. She would have much preferred to prepare her own meals.

  “There are garments in the chest in the other room. Make use of them and make sure to get rid of the ones you wear now. They are nothing but rags and I will not see you in them again.”

  He would expect a response and so she gave him a nod. What else was s
he to do? And that was a question that had haunted her. What was she to do with herself? Everyone had chores and she wished to be as productive as the others.

  She tapped her chest and shrugged.

  Cree looked puzzled at first and then he asked, “You have a question?”

  She nodded.

  “Ask me?”

  She gestured slowly hoping he would understand her. She made a half circle and turned her palms upward.

  “The rising sun,” he said pleased with himself.

  She nodded and then took a step to the side and turned her hands over and brought them down.

  “The sun sets,” he said.

  She nodded and pointed back and forth between her hands then at herself and shrugged.

  “You wonder what you are to do throughout the day.”

  She nodded.

  “That is an easy question to answer, Dawn.” He stepped toward her reaching out to slip his hand around her neck and ease her mouth to his and just before his lips claimed hers he said, “You will be available to me whenever I want you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  How could she be upset and yet find his kiss so enjoyable? She was angry with herself and angry with him and yet his kiss had her melting against him as his arm coiled around her waist and he yanked her hard against him.

  She had never been kissed by anyone but him and she doubted that any kiss could prove as wonderful as his kisses. He kissed with brutal yet tender possessiveness setting her heart to pounding, her stomach fluttering and between her legs tingling. And worse, the more he kissed her the more she wanted him to.

  His tongue did not shock her when it surged into her mouth this time, though she was surprised when her own played wickedly with his. And his groan let her know that he was enjoying their kiss as much as she was.

  As their kiss turned urgent, insatiable, he grew hard against her and she grew wet.