Highland Sanctuary (21 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Tags: #“Highland Sanctuary is a wonderful medieval tale fraught with rich, #and satisfying romance. In other words, #a plot with depth, #excellent characterization, #a page turner., #compelling drama, #beautifully described backdrops

BOOK: Highland Sanctuary
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Strong arms lifted Serena, stirring her from a blissful sleep. Bright light warmed her face, and she realized it was the sun, but she couldn't open her eyes all the way. A man grunted as he jostled her against his hard chest. He smelled of leather and pine. Her senses grew as she remembered falling at the market, the old woman's startled expression, and Gavin's timely rescue—as usual.

 

"Gavin?" Her throat felt hoarse and dry. She licked her lips, wincing from her sore tongue, swollen and awkward. The iron taste of blood still lingered in her mouth.

 

"Shush, I've got ye now. I won't let aught happen to ye." His smooth voice held none of the reproach she had feared. Instead, he tried to comfort and protect her.

 

He bounced her in his arms as he lifted her to knock on the door. Evelina answered, her eyes widening in concern. She stepped back and swung the door wide to let them in. Gunna still lay in her bed, asleep and oblivious to their arrival.

 

"Put her here on my bed." Her mother threw back the blanket from the corner of her box bed. "Now, tell me what happened."

 

She waited while Gavin laid Serena on the straw bed.

 

Gavin cradled her head on the feathered pillow. His hands were warm and gentle upon her face, sure and steady. He didn't shake in disgust after witnessing her horrible fit. When he leaned back, his eyes were filled with compassion, not speculation or accusation.

 

"Serena, did ye have another fit?" Her mother clasped her hand.

 

"Aye." Hot tears blinded her vision, as humiliation set in, and she worried how upset her mother would be once she realized the full extent of who had witnessed it. Her lips trembled. She struggled to breathe, her chest burdened by the news she was about to deliver. "I'm sorry, Mither!" Serena's voice broke as she rolled to the side, trying to will her tears away. "Everyone saw it. They all know about me now. I've ruined all yer hard work in trying to protect me." A sob burst forth from her like a dam breaking free, her shoulders quaking.

 

"Don't worry, lass," her mother soothed, gripping her arm in an attempt to comfort her. Serena finally gazed up at her. "Ye canna live like a hermit. We knew this day would come."

 

Serena sniffled and wiped her wet face. Her eyes were swollen, like heavy rocks in her sockets. Some of the pressure in her chest had released, but guilt still languished in her heart.

 

"I didn't hear everything they said, but I heard enough to know they think I'm possessed of the devil." Fresh tears brimmed until she wanted to slip beneath the covers and cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and dabbed the edge of the blanket against her tired eyes, drying up the excess moisture.

 

"'Tis true," Gavin said, rubbing his hand behind his neck with a worried frown. "I tried to defend her, but they didn't appear to be satisfied. One man sent his son after the local clergy, but I took her away before he arrived."

 

"Let's hope they'll drop the matter, then." Her mother tightened her hold on Serena's hand with an encouraging smile. "Mayhap, I've been overly worried all these years for naught."

 

Serena wasn't fooled. She knew her mother too well, but she kept silent. Her gaze drifted to Gavin's tall frame pacing at the foot of the bed. She longed to know his thoughts. Even though he had protected and defended her, he must be thinking something after witnessing one of her fits. What if the images haunting his mind made him regret helping her? His apparent distress increased her concern. Her stomach twisted.

 

Gavin whirled, his disturbing gaze meeting hers. Serena ignored the aching heaviness threatening to claim her body and pushed to a sitting position, bracing herself.

 

"So this is what ye meant when ye said ye're no different from the rest of the villagers?" He shook his head in disbelief, rubbing a hand over his face. "I've never seen aught like it. Ye should have told me, Serena. I thought ye were going to die." He turned and folded his arms.

 

"I'm sorry, Gavin, but I didn't think ye'd understand." Serena glanced at her mother for help. She shook her head and walked over to stoke the fire.

 

"I still don't understand. How am I to help ye if it happens again? I worried ye'd stop breathing all together." He looked up at the dark rafters. "Does Tomas know of this condition?"

 

"Aye." Hope sparked in her chest. He had called it a condition, not a demon. "Ye don't think I'm possessed, then? Like the others?"

 

He crossed the short distance to her bedside and bent toward her. "I could never think evil of ye. I may not understand this . . . condition ye've got, but there is naught but goodness in ye."

 

Someone pounded on the door. The wood rattled in the framed threshold. "Serena! I came to warn ye, lass. Ye don't have much time."

 

"Beacon?" Serena started to rise, but Gavin laid a hand on her arm.

 

Her mother set down the pitcher she held and hurried to answer. Beacon stormed inside. He stopped in the middle, turned in a circle, his gaze resting on Gavin, then Serena.

 

"A friend of mine rushed from town to tell me the news of the fit ye had."

 

"What did he say?" Serena clutched the blanket in her fists, blinking in worry as she studied Beacon's brown eyes. His blond hair stood in disarray, she assumed from the wind.

 

"They got a clergyman and are on their way to examine ye. They've gathererd a mob," Beacon said.

 

"If they plan to examine me, then mayhap, they only intend to ask a few questions and naught more." She looked from Beacon to Gavin, seeking confirmation. Her throat swelled at their sad expressions.

 

"He's right, Serena. We need to get ye out of here. If the clergyman only wanted to question ye, he wouldn't need to arrive with all those angry people." Gavin dropped a hand on Beacon's shoulder. "Thanks for the warning, my friend."

 

"Where will ye take me? I won't leave Mither."

 

"Ye have to, lass. Gunna isn't well enough to travel or take care of herself," Evelina said, linking her fingers in front of her. "Come now. Make haste."

 

"Help me unhitch the wagon." Gavin turned to Beacon. "We'll make better time on horseback."

 

"But where are we going?" Serena now stood by the bed. Blood pumped through her heart and brain so fast, she felt faint. She clenched her jaw, resolving to keep herself steady. "Lord, help me. Don't let me be separated from Mither for long," she whispered.

 

"I think Braigh Castle may be the safest for now. My men are there and can lend their support to the laird," Gavin said.

 

"What if Iain sides with the others to hand me over? The kirk can be quite compelling, ye know. He wouldn't want to lose his place in the shire over a woman reported to be evil."

 

"To my constant torment these past few weeks, I can safely wager that ye're much more than a simple woman to the laird. They'll have to to prove that ye're evil," Gavin said.

 

"Well, he hasn't yet seen one of my fits, has he?" Her hands flew to her hips. "That may be all the proof he needs."

 

"Serena, Beacon said we don't have much time. Roll up a couple of gowns and please stop rebelling against us." Evelina's voice took on the sterness she had often used when Serena was a child. "My nerves are getting the better of me." She sat down and took a few deep breaths.

 

Guilt tore at Serena, as the door rattled shut behind Gavin and Beacon. She didn't want to cause her mother unnecessary worry and pain, but some instinct inside her made her want to defend and protect her life—to keep things the same—the way she liked it.

 

Without another word she chose two dresses, rolled them up, and secured them. She grabbed her plaid and wrapped it around her. The back of her throat ached and her eyes stung as she made her way to Gunna's bedside. Gunna lay still, her breathing a rattle that frightened Serena. She had not awakened all day.

 

Serena closed her eyes. "Please Lord, take good care of her. Don't let her feel any pain when the time comes." She lifted Gunna's cold, wrinkled hand to her cheek. A wet tear crawled from her check to Gunna's hand. It had been her desire to be with Gunna until the very end.

 

"Mither, please don't let her . . . be alone . . . when . . . when . . ." Serena couldn't get the words out. A choking sob claimed her throat.

 

"Love, she won't be alone." Warm arms wrapped around her. "I promise. I'll stay with her until the verra last breath."

 

Serena turned and threw her arms around her mother's thin frame in a tight hug. "I didn't want ye to be alone in yer grief either. Promise ye'll send for Tomas."

 

"I will. He went to check on Philip's wife, but will soon be back." Her mother framed Serena's face, studying her as if committing her features to memory. "Truth be known, I can handle Gunna's passing, even my own, but I fear I wouldn't be able to endure it if aught happened to ye, Serena. The roots of a mother's love run deep."

 

The door flew open. "The horse is ready." Gavin saw them and dropped his head. "Beg yer pardon." He started to back outside.

 

"Nay, stay," Evelina said. "Serena, I don't know what will happen now that yer secret is known, but if we're separated longer than we think, do what Gavin says. I trust his judgment."

 

Confusion and pain swirled inside Serena as she tried to comprehend all that was happening. She leaned toward her mother's ear so Gavin wouldn't hear. "Even over the laird?"

 

"Aye." Her mother nodded. "Trust me." She kissed Serena's forehead. "Ye know I love ye, lass. Trust God above all things and cling to Him regardless of what they say. Now go. We've no more time." Her mother released her, but Serena didn't miss the tremble in her bottom lip or the tears she tried to blink away.

 
12

G
avin stepped outside. Phelan guarded the front door, his ears up and attentive. The wolf was now a common and comforting sight. On more than one occasion, the animal had proven the value of his instincts. Gavin now trusted him as well as any man.

 

Mounting his horse, Gavin leaned down and locked elbows with Serena, lifting her behind him. Her arms slid around his waist. He covered her hands with his free one. "Hold on tight."

 

Phelan jumped to his feet and barked. He paced in a circle, warning them. He growled, his black lips rising to expose sharp fangs.

 

"Go, Phelan!" Beacon shouted.

 

The wolf took off toward town.

 

"They're almost here," Gavin said.

 

"Phelan will detain them and so will I." Beacon stood on his tiptoes and struck the horse on the rump. "Now go!"

 

Gavin kneed the animal's flanks and they raced into the opposite direction. He could feel Serena leaning with him to avoid limbs and to distribute their weight in sharp curves. They rode well together, almost as if they were one. She belonged with him, but circumstances had once again thwarted that possibility. He disliked having to take her to Iain MacBraigh for protection. It gnawed at his insides, but more than that, he would do anything to save her from being condemned by the kirk. Serena didn't deserve such a fate. He had never known a more innocent soul.

 

As they flew by on horseback, birds fluttered in the branches. Leaves and twigs brushed against them. Sholto breathed heavy, never slowing his pace. Gavin and Serena burst from the woods and slowed as they came to the steep drop. Not wanting to cause any further misfortune, Gavin eased their mount down the incline.

 

The afternoon sun hid behind dark clouds rolling in above them. A clap of thunder frightened his horse, causing him to neigh. Serena gasped, her hold tightening around Gavin. They stayed seated as the sound rumbled and faded. Lightning streaked the sky in a jagged spike of glowing white.

 

Once they reached the bottom of the glen, Gavin prompted Sholto to climb faster. Now they were not only running from the town mob but also the storm about to pour upon them.

 

"I think I'll suggest a long drawbridge like some of the other castles have over their moats. Ye think Iain would go for it?" Gavin glanced over his shoulder, hoping a bit of conversation would distract her mind and ease her fears.

 

He could feel her head lift from his back as she considered his question. "I've never seen such a bridge. I've read about them, though. He might." She laid her cheek against his back. "I'd like to see it." Her voice sounded muffled against him.

 

More thunder echoed, gathering in strength, and ending in a loud boom. Heavy drops of rain fell like scattered beads. The air smelled of earth, salty seaweed, and fresh rain.

 

They crested the top of the brae, and Gavin breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the black iron gate. He struggled to see into the shadows through the rain, hoping for a glimpse of Philip. If he was nowhere about, they could be in trouble.

 

"Philip, it's Gavin and Serena! Open the gate!"

 

No answer. Gavin rode up to the iron bars, his heart leaping in hope. "Philip, are ye there, mon? Open up!"

 

Water drenched them. He shoved his wet hair out of his eyes. A shadow moved forward, slow and steady. Gavin recognized the wide, thick frame of the elderly man he sought. Relief gushed through him. He covered Serena's linked fingers holding tight around his waist. Her hands were cold, and she trembled against him.

 

"Philip is coming. It won't be long now. Ye'll soon be safe inside, in dry clothes, and warming by the fire."

 

Her arms tightened around him and her chin dug into his shoulder. "Don't leave me alone . . . please." The whispered plea against his ear made him ache to comfort her. He rubbed a hand along her arm.

 

"Lass, ye'll be safe here. I promise. Ye've naught to fear."

 

The gate rattled and rolled up. Gavin waited until it was high enough and rode through. He pulled the reins and turned. "Philip, a mob of people will soon arrive. Don't let them in under any circumstances. Ye hear?"

 

"I beg yer pardon, but I take my orders from my laird."

 

"This is an unusual situation and the laird doesn't yet know we'll soon be under siege. It's for our own good and in the laird's best interest."

 

"A siege? But why? We're living in peaceful times 'round here." Philip crinkled his brown eyes and stroked his gray beard.

 

"Trust me on this, my friend. I need to get Serena inside where it's safe and dry." Gavin guided his horse from the stone gatehouse and raced across the courtyard. He dismounted and reached up for Serena. She slid into his arms, her wet body molding to his. He breathed deeply to clear his mind.

 

"What about my garments?" Her blue lips trembled as she spoke. Serena slipped her arms around his neck. He liked the feeling in spite of her freezing fingers.

 

"I'll come back for them. They're soaked through right now and won't be any good to ye."

 

She rested her wet head against his chest, accepting his answer. Yawning, Serena covered her mouth. "I'm so tired. I usually sleep a lot after one of my fits."

 

Gavin carried her through the side door and to the great hall. Servants were readying the tables for the evening meal. All eyes turned toward them.

 

A lass hurried over, wringing her hands in worry. As if remembering her manners, she dropped into a curtsy, her brown hair in curls beneath her white head piece. An apron covered her gray gown. She lifted dark eyes to Gavin.

 

"My name's Doreen. Is Serena all right?" She touched her hand to her stomach.

 

Serena lifted her head and turned to her friend. "Aye, but I'm verra tired. Gavin brought me here to stay. I'm in a bit of trouble."

 

"What kind of trouble?" Doreen blinked brown eyes and wrinkled her brows in concern.

 

"Gavin, ye can set me down now." He tilted her and she landed on her feet. "Thank ye."

 

In spite of the ache in his throbbing arms, he was sorry to release her. The empty feeling felt strange. Serena did things to him he couldn't understand. "Why don't ye go get settled in a chamber, while I find Iain and explain everything?"

 

"Aye." Serena brushed her wet strands behind her ears, her pale face a stark contrast to her black hair. "I appreciate ye telling him for me. I need some time to deal with things." She turned to Doreen and linked arms with her as they left the hall. "I'll tell ye what I can."

 

Gavin headed to the library and knocked on the door. "'Tis Gavin. I need to speak with ye."

 

"Come in." Iain said.

 

Opening the door, Gavin saw Iain sitting in a chair reading a book by a candelabra. He looked up, snapping it closed. "Sit down." He gestured to a chair across from him.

 

Gavin told him what happened in town, about Serena's history of fits, and how the townspeople were on their way. When he finished, Gavin steepled his fingers. "Can we count on yer protection for Serena?"

 

"Of course, I'll do my best. Like ye, I don't believe in this evil claim. It's rubbish!"

 

A knock sounded at the door. A servant peeked in. "My laird, please forgive me for the disturbance, but a crowd of people are at the gate demanding entrance. Philip would like to know if ye wish him to let them in."

 

Iain met Gavin's gaze. "Too bad the storm didn't delay them a wee bit longer. 'Twould appear this mob is quite determined."

 

 

 

 

 

Evelina wiped Gunna's feverish forehead with a wet cloth. Her breathing was worse as she languished on the box bed shivering in spite of the warm summer day.

 

After waving Serena and Gavin off, Evelina had recognized a brewing storm in the distant sky. Her heavy heart had lifted in hope. Mayhap the rains would do more than cool the air and would hinder the mob from continuing on their quest.

 

"Gunna, the rains are coming to cool ye off a wee bit." Evelina covered her limp hand with her own. She kissed the cold, hard knuckles, already the shade of powdered ashes. "Hang on if ye can. Tomas will soon be here. Let him bless ye one more time before ye go."

 

She laid her forehead against Gunna's arm, her skin now clammy. Evelina closed her eyes and let the grief flow freely. Warm tears slipped through her eyelids. With Serena away, she had no need to hide the swirling pain.

 

Not only had Gunna been Serena's nursemaid, but she had first taken care of Evelina during her childhood. When Evelina's parents had forced her into an arranged marriage, she refused to part with Gunna. She may have been young, but she knew her marriage would lack love, passion, and tenderness. Gunna's friendship was all she had until Serena's birth.

 

Thunder shook the cottage, much like the crumbling foundation of their lives with Gunna's passing and the town's discovery of Serena's secret. Things would never be the same again. They had been happy here.

 

At first, settling in a wee cottage had been hard. Evelina had grown up in a large manor with plenty of servants to attend her. She had been surrounded with a multitude of stylish gowns and jewelry and had an education. Evelina had done her best to protect Serena from that world, while preparing her for the unknown—to live by faith. Serena would now be in the Lord's hands.

 

She lifted her head, realizing her tears had puddled on Gunna's wrinkled arm. She mopped them up with the sleeve of her gown and traced her fingers to Gunna's elbow. In the past, Gunna would pull her arm away in laughter, saying, "Dearie me, lass, but that tickles, it does." Evelina longed to hear her laugh again.

 

A determined knock sounded at the door. Evelina straightened, wiping away the evidence of her grief, and sighed. She rose to her feet.

 

A second knock rattled the door.

 

Tomas would have already called out. It had to be someone else.

 

She braced herself and strode to the door. Another rumble of thunder echoed. It must have kept her from hearing her visitor ride up. The door squeaked as she cracked it open and peered through. At least twenty men sat on horses staring at her with grim expressions.

 

Rain pounded their heads, flattening their hair to the scalp. It hit the ground like small pebbles. A clergyman holding a plaid over his head stepped forward, his gray eyes unreadable. "We came to see the lass that fell down in a fit earlier today at the market."

 

"She isn't here." Evelina clutched the door until her knuckles turned white.

 

"Does she not live here?" He tilted his dark head, regarding her with doubt. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice. "My name is Jamieson Kendrick, vicar of St. Gilbert's Cathedral. I only wanted to talk to her and put to rest the fears of these townspeople."

 

"Aye, she lives here, but she isn't here." Evelina glanced at the other men behind him. "I'd offer ye shelter from the rain, but I fear the place isn't big enough for all of them."

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