One & Only (7 page)

He and his men reached the keep and
strode inside. A foul odor came from the table and in disgust he bade Kenneth
to take the food to the hounds. Certain the dogs wouldn’t want such gruesome
fare either. It’d be left for stray animals that happened by, if they were
hungry enough to risk their lives.

“I’m off, Laird, to arrange
tomorrow’s duties. I’ll see you before you leave for any instructions,” Greer
said, and when Grey gave him a nod, he left the hall.

Duff joined him at the table and
they discussed the route they would take. During their discussion, a woman
entered the hall and asked Colm if she could have a word with the laird.

Grey overheard the woman’s request
and turned to see who she was. He didn’t recognize her, but bid her to come to
him. The woman wore her muted brown hair in a coif, covered by a strip of
fabric. It was her eyes though that Grey tried to assess, but she kept them
lowered.

“Laird Gunn, I don’t know if you
remember me … I came for the summer solstice feast a few years back. I’m from
the Dunmore clan.”

“Aye? Welcome. Will you take a seat
and tell me why you have come?”

The child she held wiggled in her
arms wanting to be set down. When she was denied her freedom, the child wailed.
A louder sound he never heard. By the grace of God, the lass quieted when the
woman set her on the floor.

“I … we should have privacy for our
… discussion,” she said, looking at Duff.

“Duff is my second in command and is
privy to all my business.”

“Oh.” The woman looked at the rushes
and mumbled, “Well, laird, we … that is, when I visited we slept together and I
bore a child as a result.” She blurted it out rather fast.

Grey scowled at her words and he
wasn’t certain he heard her correctly. He hadn’t even remembered her. “Who are
you and when did you say this happened?”

“Janice, Laird Gunn. You don’t
recall waking and making me leave your chamber? It was during the festival,
here.”

“Which festival?” he asked, his
impatience wearing thin.

“’Twas during the summer solstice a
few years ago. Our clan was invited to partake …”

Grey frowned, trying to recall the
woman and the festival, but neither was familiar. The Dunmore clan hadn’t been
invited for a few years since the Dunmore’s aligned with the MacHeths. Then he
recalled the festival in which they’d found the barrels of brew and many drank
to the point of inebriation.

He’d drunk far too much and happened
to find a woman warming his bed. Nevertheless, Grey didn’t remember much more
after that, except when he’d awakened during the night he was alone. At the
time, he considered he’d dreamed the events of the night.

“You say the child is mine?”

“Aye, she is yours.”

“And you know this for certain?”
Grey took a formidable stance, giving the woman a stern glare. Yet she didn’t
coward away from him.

“I had not been with any other
around that time, Laird Gunn. I have no means to take care of her and well … I
am to marry.”

Grey was sickened by the woman’s
attitude. The Dunmores were uncaring banshees. What kind of lady would give her
child away without a thought? He looked at the wee lass and saw her peeking at
him from behind the woman. The sprite didn’t resemble him or her mother.

“You have no care for the child?”

“Nay, I do not. She is a Gunn. My
husband wouldn’t want another man’s child, especially a Gunn, in our household.
I will leave her in your care.”

Grey couldn’t believe the woman’s
audacity. If anything he’d save the child from a hellish life with such a
banshee. “If that is your wish.”

“Aye, ‘tis, laird. She is a handful,
but she does have a good heart. Mind you, she cannot hear. I don’t know why,
but there it is. I have brought her belongings and will have them fetched.”

The woman turned to leave and Grey
called out to her. “What’s her name?”

“Sunny, Laird Gunn, her name is
Sunny. She’s three summers.” With that, the woman set the child in his lap and
left.

Duff laughed his arse off. “Saddled
with your own bastard, Laird. Grey, you dog. I never knew you had a woman that
night. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why would I? Christ Almighty, I don’t
remember being with her. I doubt she’s telling the truth, but it is better the
child’s left here. What the hell am I going to do with a child?”

“You’re asking me? I say you find
some womenfolk to come and care for her. There are plenty of women who would
gladly volunteer.”

Grey was beside himself. As he
looked down at the sprite, she reminded him of another wee lass who had as much
spirit. The lass raised herself upward and clasped his neck with her wee arms.
She didn’t make a sound, only hugged him. Her blonde curls tickling his cheek.

“Will you ask Bea and Nell to come
and stay at the keep? They’re free of responsibilities, having no family. But
if they don’t want to, find others.” The two women helped before, preparing for
company he’d received. Bea had yet to marry. Nell’s husband, Joseph, a worthy
Gunn warrior, died in battle only a year prior. They didn’t seem to mind
serving in the laird’s keep, which is why he’d thought of them in the first
place. He hoped they’d be amiable, because he’d be leaving the child in their
care.

Duff left whistling a cheerful tune.

“A daughter. Figures,” Grey said to
himself. The wee lass backed enough to see him and smiled, her small teeth
shiny and bright. “Well a daughter might not be so bad. You’ll be a good lass
and listen to your da.” A sudden severity came to him saying those words.

He never expected to father to a
child, and one which reminded him of Albrey at that. Though he’d been with a
few women, he’d always been careful. His responsibilities were far too time
consuming and he had no desire to wed and raise a family. At least, he hadn’t
thought of the desire since he’d been a lad, when his life was destined for a
different path. Had his heart hardened beyond repair?

He didn’t need such a hindrance in
his life, but it seemed what he wanted didn’t much matter. Grey supposed he did
have room in his heart for a daughter. Life was about to become far more
complicated.

CHAPTER FOUR

Leaving was easier than she
imagined. Bree envisioned a tearful goodbye, but for all the years she spent
with the Champlains, they sent her on her way without much fanfare. Her father
claimed he couldn’t say goodbye and went hunting with some of his men. He was
absent from the farewell, which was probably for the best. Bree would have
broken down if her father showed any emotion.

Her mother wept silently on the
steps of the manor. Bree took heart and made enough of her special sweet cakes
to last her a fortnight. Melinda cried about wanting trunks of herbs like Bree
and carried on. Her screaming could likely be heard in the village a mile from
the fief. Bree expected some comfort from them, but she should have known she’d
get none.

The only person to show sorrow was
Rhys, who hugged her for nearly five minutes before letting go. It was Cait’s
insistence which finally got him to release her. She’d miss her dear friend and
hoped one day she might return to him. If what he’d said was true, he would
have married her. Marriage to Rhys was more acceptable than marrying someone
she didn’t know. He loved her which was something she always wanted, to be
loved.

Love. Any sort of love would do, and
his was the kind of love a woman dreamt of. Until she was assured she wouldn’t
be hunted by the MacHeths, she couldn’t return and risk his safety.

For three days, Bree and Cait waited
for some sign the Gunns were coming. She began to give up hope they’d been
given the message. The friar at the Abbey didn’t take well to having women
staying within, though with a few coins were persuaded to allow them inside
overnight. Finally, they could delay no further. When the commander of the
baron’s guard insisted they depart from the Abbey, they had no choice but to
continue the journey.

The trek became wearisome and long.
Bree grew bored at watching the scenery, even though the countryside was
beautiful. The weather warmed and the nights weren’t so chilly when they made
camp. She was happy to be making the journey during summer rather than winter.

Bree rode next to Cait; each had
been given their own palfrey. Beyond them, two carts carried six small trunks
of salt, one large trunk full of her precious herbs, and one other trunk
holding their belongings. Cait insisted in bringing all their belongings,
because she had no intension of ever returning. The marriage procession wasn’t
as grand as some.

Four outriders took position, riding
alongside her and Cait for their protection. Two others rode ahead of the
procession and another two behind. In all there were eight men defending her.
Cait whispered eight men were no match for one Gunn warrior. Bree would have
laughed at her fabrication, but her friend seemed to believe that statement.

After riding for most of the day,
Bree finally got up the courage to ask Commander Bennett if they might stop to
rest. Never would she question the baron’s guard, but enough was enough. She
and Cait were not men and should be allowed rest when needed. He agreed, and
Cait shouted a halleluiah when they dismounted.

Once the horses were cared for, the
men began setting up a tent for her and Cait to sleep in. Cait had been on her
best behavior and hadn’t encouraged any of the men during the trip. She hadn’t
even shared a kiss with one of them, a very rare event indeed. Bree wanted to
tease Cait about it, but kept quiet. The baron’s soldiers were not used to her
jesting. Bree wasn’t about to let her guard down even though it didn’t much
matter how she acted now.

She set a cover on the ground and
then searched for twigs so she could build a fire. Before doing so, she asked
Commander Bennett if it was safe. He didn’t seem to think it wasn’t or it
mattered. Bree set the kindling to the fire she started and began making
pottage. She poured in water Cait retrieved from a nearby stream, along with
some spices and some dried meat in a small cauldron she’d brought. She then
added a few turnips and carrots. Before long, the aroma of the stew drew the
guard and she found herself surrounded by them, all crowded on her small cover.

She was happy to share the pottage
with them. It gave her pleasure to cook for others. During the meal, she
noticed the silence of the forest. All she heard were the sounds of the men
eating, but what struck her odd was there were no sounds of birds, insects, or
animals. There weren’t any early-evening noises one could usually make out this
time of year. There had to be an animal close by. She hoped it wasn’t a wolf or
a boar. Concerned, Bree looked around at the nearby woods, but she didn’t
notice anything out of the ordinary or see glowing eyes amongst the trees.

After finishing the last of the
carrots, she tossed aside the broadleaf she’d used to hold her pottage. “I am
going to rest. Cait, can you clean up?”

Cait nodded, before returning her
attention back to her food.

“Sleep well,” she mumbled.

Inside the tent, Bree readied for
bed. She undid her gown, welcoming the relief from the summer heat. Throughout
the day, the sun beat down on them and she was happy to finally remove the
heavy fabric of her travel garments. She slept in her undergarments; thankful
the shift was thin-threaded. Using her rolled up overdress for a pillow, she
settled down.

Unable to sleep, Bree worried,
tossing and turning. One thought led to another and before long, she wondered
if the Gunns would come. And if they didn’t come, what would happen to her once
she reached the MacHeth holding? Would the MacHeth laird force her to marry his
choice? What manner of man would he be? Then her thoughts turned to the
Champlains. If she negated the MacHeth laird’s demand, would he take revenge on
them? She wouldn’t let that happen. Barron Thomas and Lady Millie had been
kind. She couldn’t repay their kindness by being selfish, but her safety was at
issue.

Then thoughts of why her real family
discarded her kept intruding on her ability to form a good plan. She wondered
if they had really sent her away because of tension within the clan. She’d
always believed she’d done something terribly wrong, and then she thought that
nonsense. What could a child do that was so dreadful to have been sent away?
Bree wanted to believe they’d sent her away because of war, but she knew of no
parent who would willingly send their child away. If they’d cared for her, they
would have kept her close by and had found a way to protect her.

There had to be a way to get out of
this situation, but the solution escaped her. Bree was a planner by nature and
liked organization, especially in her kitchen. She didn’t want to be the cause
of anyone’s troubles. Besides, she couldn’t come up with a plan which afforded
her safety and that of the Champlains.

She wished she could recall memories
of her childhood. The past might be vital in knowing who to trust and who not
to. There didn’t seem to be a way to appease the MacHeth laird. He expected a
bride for someone within his clan.

A noise sounded like a shout outside
the tent. Then she heard the sound of metal clanking and men’s voices. Bree
scrambled to her feet when the tent flew away. There wasn’t a bit of wind to
whip it away. She didn’t scream, but stood shocked. Her bare feet were as still
as if she sunk in a deep bog. Towering around her were four very tall, very
strong looking warriors. Their glares were enough to frighten her to death.

“Gracious, Mary! They are huge,” she
muttered to herself. “Oh saints be praised, this was not a fair idea. Nay, nay,
this was a mistake. Oh, God. God, pray this is a dream.”

Bree had forgotten she’d removed her
overdress and stood sparsely clad in her shift. She was so shocked by the sight
of the men she hadn’t bothered to cover herself. If she only realized the image
she presented to the warriors, she might have screamed then and ran to hide in
the nearby woods.

None of the men spoke to her or to
the guard. The commander and his men threw their swords in a pile near the
fire. Fat lot of good they were. They should be protecting her, not giving up
before the fighting even began. What cowards.

She noticed Cait hunched beside a
tree, trying to hide. Bree didn’t know what to do. Usually Cait was the brave
one, at least she that’s what she had everyone believing. All those in the
group seemed incapable of finding out what the warriors wanted. It was up to
her. Somewhere from deep within her, she drew up the courage to speak to them.

“Good eve, sirs. Please do not harm
us. We are only traveling through. We do have food to offer.” She glanced at
the pot and saw it was empty. “Oh, God above. I am sorry but the pottage is
gone. I would be pleased to make more if you are hungry.”

The warriors looked aghast at the
suggestion. Either that there was no more pottage or she’d offered to make
more. She wasn’t sure what she’d said to offend them. Mayhap they didn’t speak
English and so she questioned them in God’s language.

It was a good thing she’d paid
attention during mass. In doing so, she’d learned the Latin spoken by the
clergy and some of the elders who still used the language. They didn’t respond
to the words when she asked them what they wanted.

The men didn’t seem inclined to
speak to her. Bree turned to her right to look at Bennett, but he looked more
fearful than she. His eyes widened with panic and his silver hair stuck out as
if he’d seen a ghost. They were definitely cowards. But she supposed if she was
faced with going against these men, she’d give up her sword too.

“Pray tell me what you want,” she
said again, now more direct and demanding.

Another warrior came through the
trees, and beyond him, another followed. The taller man approached and had that
‘I’m in charge’ look by the way he sauntered toward them. Bree stepped
backward, becoming alarmed. They certainly looked intimidating, brawny, and
lanky.

“What do they feed you? You’re all
as tall as the pines.” she said aloud, absently remarking on their height.

Though she was scared before, she
was now terrified. The taller man had long dark hair, making him appear
ruthless. His muscles looked hard and his chest wide—very formidable. Never had
she seen a man so well made nor so handsome. Yet his size scared her.

She took her time looking at his
face, taking notice of his dark eyebrows above the steely cold gray eyes—eyes
that pierced her with his gaze. He kept them on her making her self-conscious,
Bree wanted to disappear. He was the strongest looking warrior she’d ever seen.
Her legs started shaking and coldness swept over her skin. Certain her
trembling was from the ominous warriors standing before her, she folded her
arms around waist to ward off the sudden chill. She looked down at her feet and
realized she still stood and hadn’t fainted dead away. Could she be brave
enough to pose her question to
him
?

“Please tell me what you want.”

“You.”

His voice, deep with timber, sent
another chill through her. Bree tilted her head to side, silently questioning
the tall warrior. Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly. No doubt about it,
she had to be imagining this awful turn of events. “Me?”

“Aye, milady, we want you,” one of
the darker-haired warriors said.

“We certainly do want you,” said
another.

“We want none other,” a light-haired
warrior said.

“So you have come for me?” Bree
glanced at Cait and nodded to her, telling her silently that it was all right.
These men were sent to fetch her and not a band of outlaws out for their blood.
Their words affected her and for some reason, she wanted to weep at the thought
of them all wanting her. Never had anyone placed her in such high regard.

“Milady, you need to cover up. Here,
take my plaid.” One of the warriors stepped near and offered a covering to her.

“Thank you.” Bree wasn’t sure why
she was thanking him or why she was being so cordial. As if they were expected
to exchange pleasantries, she almost laughed out loud at that thought.

“I am happy to be of service,
milady.”

The others gave him a cross look.

The tallest warrior stepped forward,
closing the space between them. His scent smelled marvelous, akin to outdoors
and heather. He reached out and took hold of the covering. “You show too much
skin, lass. Cover up.” He pulled the covering around her and bid her to take
hold of the ends. She took a step back because his nearness overwhelmed her. To
his men he said, “Ye will avert your eyes and take no notice.”

His men didn’t care for his words,
she suspected, when they continued to ogle her and grinned. Their strange
stares didn’t give a clue until she realized what they looked at.

“Oh, I … forgot I readied for bed. I
do apologize. Wait, I shan’t apologize. You rend the tent from above me and
frightened me. It is you who should be apologizing.” She realized why they
stared at her, she was practically naked. Did she just reprimand them? A
tremble overcame her again, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the way
they looked at her or because she hardly had any garments on.