The Legacy's Origin (Enduring Legacy, #1)

by Dawn Brower

  Moire exhaled a slow breath pushing away the uneasy feeling that rose within her. Perhaps she should share what she’d seen with Lili and Ma.

  “What’s the matter, Moire?” Lili dusted the flour from her hands as she pinned Moire beneath her sympathetic stare. “Do not try tae hide it. I feel you’re upset.”

  Moire wasn’t the least bit surprised for it was Lili’s gift to feel others emotions. She’d worked hard to suppress her uneasiness these past days in order to keep from alarming Lili, as well as Lachlan. There was nothing for it now. She’d have to be forthright. “I’ve been having visions.”

  Ma leaned closer across the counter, worry etched in the fine lines of her face. “You must tell us.”

  “I am afraid there isn’t much tae tell. They have been more like quick flashes that do not reveal anything, but leave me with the feeling that something bad is afoot.” Moire glanced toward the entrance of their cottage at the sound of the door creaking. “Da, you’re home...early.”

  Her stomach sank when Samuel and Lachlan strolled in behind him. The boys were born her cousins but had long since become her brothers. Both possessed their own special gift—or gifts in Lachlan’s case for he had all three. Samuel had the ability to see peoples color—understand the intentions of their soul.

  Da strolled into the kitchen as Samuel closed the cottage’s heavy wooden door. “Lachlan had a vision.”

  “As did Moire.” Ma embraced Da and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “She was just now telling me and Lili about it.”

  “What did you see?” Lachlan and Moire asked one another in unison.

  “You first.” Moire dropped into a chair, exhaustion taking hold of her.

  A shrill scream permeated the room and Moire sprang to her feet. “What the devil?” She followed Da and Lachlan to the window where Ma, Samuel, and Lili soon joined them.

  “So much fear,” Lili whispered, her voice cracking.

  Two men had ahold of the widow Pierre and were dragging her kicking and screaming from her home. Moire swallowed hard, wishing to look away but at the same time unable to stop watching.

  Samuel added, “And anger, their aura’s are burning red.

  Lili turned away, covering her face with her hands. “She’s so afraid...so upset. Why are they taking her?”

  Da wrapped his arm around Lili. “Come now, lassie.” He guided her to a chair and helped her to sit before turning to the others. “Lachlan, ye’d best be telling the others what ye saw now.”

  Samuel tugged on Da’s arm. “We should pack what we can and leave first. He can tell the lasses as we travel.”

  Ma wrapped her arms around Samuel and pulled him close. “Hush now.”

  Moire turned her full attention to Lachlan and nibbled her lower lip as she waited for him to speak.

  He glanced at the ceiling, releasing a breath. “I saw that.” He pointed at the window. “Widow Pierre being accused of witchcraft and dragged away.”

  Moire swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I saw her too. In a dark, dirty place. She was scared and pleading with someone.”

  Da’s strong hand came to rest on Moire’s shoulder and she leaned her head against his arm.

  Lachlan shook his head. “I’m afraid Samuel is right. We canna stay here much longer.”

  Moire’s heart sank. She had no wish to leave France—to leave Bastien. She picked up her head, standing tall. “Why ever not? This is our home.”

  Lachlan gave her a knowing stare. “I saw Lili being dragged away in chains. The men called out her name as they tugged her along. Fire set tae our cottage. Ma crying.” He shook his head and released a loud sigh. “We must go before it can come tae pass.”

  “Me? Bu...but why?” Lili’s voice whispered through the room.

  Da looked to Ma. “I think the time tae be telling them what happened in Scotland has come.”

  Ma gave a firm nod. “Everyone sit.”

  Moire watched as her family settled into chairs. “We already know.”

  A tear slid from Da’s eye as he shook his head. “Not the full of it Lass.”

  “You see,” Ma paused, taking Da’s hand in hers, “we did not leave Scotland because we wished tae. We fled in order tae protect us all.”

  “From what?” Lili turned wide eyes on Da.

  He brushed the stray tear from his cheek. “Yer Ma, God rest her soul, along with Samuel’s Da, and Lachlan’s Ma were accused of being witches.” His voice cracked with emotion and Lili rested her hand on his arm, rubbing small circles. “Yer dear Ma told me tae protect the wee ones,” he glanced at the woman she now called Ma, “and your Aunt Ailis.”

  Lachlan’s chair scrapped the floor as he repositioned himself. “What of my Da?”

  “It is all too sad.” Ma hung her head. “The mob that came after yer Ma hit yer Da so hard he never had a chance.” Sniffling, Ma raised her head to meet Lachlan’s gaze. “Perhaps it was a blessing for he escaped the torch.”

  Moire’s heart thundered. She wanted to scream, to run, to forget all she’d been told. She’d knew her Ma died along with the others, but she’d always been told it was an accident. Nothing more. She clenched her hands in her lap and stared at Da. “And now the same fate is tae befall us?”

  Samuel stood. “No one has come yet. We must leave before they do.”

  Ma nodded. “Quickly now. Take only what you must, and nothing more than you can carry.”

  Lili stopped halfway across the kitchen, turning back toward their parents. “Where are we tae go? Spain as the others have?”

  “No,” Da shook his head, “We will travel tae the coast by foot then board a ship for England.”

  “Now hurry.” Ma waved her hands toward the kitchen door.

  Moire raced after Lili, entering their bedchamber directly behind her. Neither wasted time talking as they stuffed what they needed into valises. Her task complete, Moire stood near the door watching Lili. Her sweet sister shook from head to toe as she packed her bag. Was this to be the way of things for the rest of their lives? Always hiding their gifts? Waiting for the day they would have to leave everything behind again? What of their children?

  Moire closed her eyes against the thoughts and emotions sweeping through her. There were many things she could not control, but she made her mind up in that instant. She would control the ones she could. She’d make sure not to pass on her gift.

  “Moire.” She opened her eyes to find Lili standing beside her, valise in hand.

  “Are you ready?” Moire asked.

  Lili nodded and moved past her, then stopped. “What were you thinking about a moment ago.”

  “That I will never marry.” Moire said.

  Lili tilted her head ever so slightly. “But of course you will.”

  “No, I will not. For I refuse tae bring children into such a cruel world.” Moire squared her shoulders, notched her chin. “I will not subject an innocent babe tae any of this.”

  Lili stared at her through sympathy filled eyes. “I understand, though I hope you will someday reconsider.”

  EXCERPT

  CHARMING HER ROGUE

  ENDURING LEGACY 10

  DAWN BROWER

  CHAPTER ONE

  JUNE 18, 1914

  Lady Catherine Langdon twirled the champagne in her glass staring at the bubbles as they popped against the side of the crystal. Music echoed throughout the room as a violinist strummed out Vivaldi’s the Four Seasons. Cat would have preferred something a little more soothing to ease her current distress, but she didn’t have much say in anything in her life. She considered herself a modern woman, and yet, she had to continue to follow the dictates of society. At one and twenty, she’d have liked to have found her own residence and used her inheritance as she saw fit. That wasn’t to be her fate though. Her father had ensured she had a guardian of all things and she wouldn’t have control of her funds for four more years. If she married they’d go to her husband. Cat didn’t have any intention of allowing something
so archaic to happen to her. No man would ever have power over her.

  “Do you find these dinners dreary too?” a male asked from behind her.

  She’d been so caught up in her own thoughts she’d failed to notice his presence until he’d spoken. Cat turned to glance up at him. He was rather tall and foreboding. Some ladies might be intimidated by that, but not Cat. He had hair as dark as the night sky—though not quite as black as hers. Highlights streaked throughout suggested he spent some time outdoors in full sunlight. One strand fell loose over his forehead in an enticing curl. His eyes were like shiny emeralds that mesmerized her for a few brief moments until she regained her composure.

  “They can be rather tedious,” she confirmed. “But they appear to be a necessity for the ambassador.” Sir Benjamin Villiers, her guardian, worked as secretary to the ambassador. Cat had been living in France with him since her father’s death over a year ago. Some ladies would have been excited to live in Paris and have access to the latest fashions, but not her—never her. She wanted so much more than pretty gowns and shiny baubles. They were nice and she did appreciate not having to worry about money. Some things were far more important than that. She’d been secretly studying to be a nurse. Sir Benjamin would be appalled if he found out. She prayed he continued to remain ignorant of her past time. With the current climate of the political world she feared such skills might prove necessary—though she prayed her instincts proved wrong.

  Certain gifts had been bestowed upon members her family that dated back centuries. Some of her ancestors had been persecuted as witches. Her mother was a direct descendant of that line, and now her. Catherine’s name came from a variation of one of those long ago witches—Caitrìona. Cat even had the same gift as the woman who’d been presumed wicked and a servant of the devil. Those that didn’t understand their abilities chose to believe they were immoral, but her family considered them a blessing from someplace good.

  Cat’s dark hair came from her father, the former Duke of Grantly, but her sapphire blue eyes were from her mother. Her father’s title had passed on to a cousin who she’d been barely acquainted with. Her mother had died in childbirth—after one of the several times she tried to give the duke an heir he desperately needed—or more apt—wanted. Unfortunately, neither her mother or the child survived. She was completely alone in the world, and sometimes that was more than she could bear.

  The thing about gifts—sometimes they came in threes. She’d been somehow blessed with all of the abilities, but one remained stronger than the rest. Her premonitions didn’t come in flashes, but more feelings that were emphasized by the emotions of the people around her. Her strongest and most reliable ability centered around that amplification, and sometimes she had trouble deciphering what it all meant. This man projected loudly one thing—secrets. He was hiding something, and whatever it turned out to be could potentially impact the world.

  “Some people need society events to function,” he said evenly. “I’ve never been one to put stock in them. Do you enjoy them?”

  “Not particularly,” she replied. “As you’ve stated—their more tiresome than entertaining. If you don’t like them what brings you to this particular one. The ambassador’s guests are generally of the prestigious sort.”

  She’d met numerous individuals that boasted of their importance. Cat hadn’t found any of them particularly noteworthy. She hadn’t relied on her gifts for any epiphanies where they were concerned. It had been her experience that if someone talked that much about themselves it usually meant they were of little consequence. It was the quiet ones that she had to watch and figure out. Like this man—he’d started the conversation, but gave little of himself away.

  “It’s not my practice to boast about my connections.” He reached out and snatched a glass of champagne from a waiter as he strolled past. The man brought it to his lips and sipped the bubbly liquid. Once again Cat was transfixed by him, his deeds, and his inaction. Everything about him remained an enigma. What game was he playing? He lowered his glass and met her gaze. “Don’t you think it is far better to blend in and not allow anyone to notice you?”

  She didn’t understand how he’d ever be able to make himself unnoticeable. He was by far the most handsome man in the room and he oozed charm and arrogance, but perhaps he only showed her that side of him. He did seem to be a man made up of several facets. “I’ve never been much of a wallflower,” she replied. “I enjoy social interaction—most of the time.” In fact, she almost needed it.

  He tilted his head. “No, you wouldn’t be. A woman like you stands out in a crowd. You must have numerous suitors.”

  “Not particularly,” she answered. “At least not here in France. Back home I had a few.” None of them made her heart beat faster or her breathing shallow. This man did though. Something about him made her want to move closer, to touch him, and maybe even press her lips to his. To make it simple—he was dangerous to her well-being, and she still didn’t even know his name.

  “That’s a bloody shame.” He sipped his sparkling wine again. “I expect you’d be like this champagne. Sweet, tantalizing, and overflowing with pleasure after one taste.”

  He had to be a rogue of the worst sort. Gentleman didn’t say such outrageous things to a lady. Did he believe her to be a Cyprian hired for the enjoyment of the men at the party? There were not many females in attendance. Such was the nature of political work—women stayed home more often than not. The only other ladies there were wives of the diplomats and their employers. Cat was the only unattached woman in attendance. Perhaps she was reading too much into his statement.

  “Sir, you’re too bold.” She narrowed her gaze to glare at him. “I insist you apologize.”

  He lifted a brow. “You’re not any of those things I mentioned?” His lips tilted upward into a sinful smile. Damn him and his gorgeous face. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I’m not a lady you can insult without consequences.” She was the daughter of a duke damn it. Cat lifted her chin and pinned him with her most haughty stare. “Do you not know who I am?”

  He chuckled lightly. “I think all of France is aware of your lineage—certainly everyone in England is.”

  Cat took a deep breath and prepared for the impending disagreement. This man rubbed her wrong, and right, at the same time. She wished fervently she didn’t find him so attractive. Her body nearly hummed with joy in his presence. She’d always followed her instincts in the past; however, she fully believed with him she’d best exercise caution. He was able to hide a part of himself from her gifts and she couldn’t trust him because of it. What made him special?

  “Then why do you persist in being so discourteous?” For the life of her she couldn’t discern his motivation for being so arrogant and condescending. She was pleasant to everyone and he made her want to punch someone for the first time in her entire life. “What have I done to you for you to be this way with me?”

  “Not a thing.” He shrugged. “You intrigue me and I thought I’d ascertain your mettle.”

  “Ohh...” If she was a lady inclined to give into temper tantrums she’d already be stomping her foot and screaming at the top of her lungs. “You’re insufferable.”

  “Thank you.” His lips twitched and amusement fairly danced out of his eyes. “I do pride myself in being able to needle people in the most unexpected ways.”

  She rolled her eyes. “In that case, consider your goal achieved.”

  Cat hated him. He was the worst sort of man and she couldn’t fathom what she’d found so compelling before. He could go back to hell as far as she was concerned. It would be a happy day if she never came in contact with him ever again. Some handsome devils shouldn’t be encouraged, and he was at the top of that list.

  “Does one dance at these things?” He glanced around the room. “It seems as if most people are content with talking about inane topics that are sure to put me to sleep.”

  “Let me guess,” she began. “You consider yourself and everyth
ing about you the very epitome of all that is exhilarating in the world.” God save her from men who thought the world revolved around them. She didn’t need their ilk paying any attention to her.

  “Not at all,” he replied smoothly. “But I’m not so boring as to engender individuals into a catatonic state.” He gestured to a nearby group. “Just look at them all—they’re very faces allude to placidity—they’re practically asleep standing up.”

  Cat sighed. “If you’re in such a state of ennui why are you still here?” For that matter, why did she continue to converse with him? She was well past the stage of irritation and had entered into complete annoyance. “You could go home and all would be well in your world Mr.—”

  “Lord,” he interrupted her. “I’ve never been a mere mister.”

  Of course he was a lord. Arrogance such as his came naturally to some, but those of his ilk were weaned on it. No wonder he oozed it as easily as breathing, and didn’t apologize for it. “Be that as it may...” She silently prayed for patience. “To answer your earlier question this was never meant to be the dancing sort of gathering. It’s a dinner and conversation. If you want more than that you should attend the ball later this week. I’m sure a lord such as yourself will have no problem finding a willing dance partner.”

  “Will you dance with me?”

  The polite thing would be to say yes. That was what was expected of her after all... “Absolutely not.” She couldn’t stop herself from saying it. “I don’t believe we’d manage a full set before I wanted to strangle you. It’s best to save us both from that disastrous outcome.”

  Instead of being offended he grinned widely as if she’d complimented him. He was such a contrary bastard. “I think I like you.”

  “Please don’t,” she begged. “I don’t need you to be charming. Liking you is the last thing I wish to do.”

  At the start of their conversation she’d have liked nothing more. Now that she’d spent some time in his company she’d had a change of heart. He might be handsome, and something about him may call out to her, but he was entirely wrong for her. In her experience it was better to cut all ties in situations such as this one. Cat didn’t need any heartache in her life.