Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“Lady Dawn!” the man said with glee. “I am so pleased to finally meet you.”
She scrunched her brow and shrugged, her gesture questioning who he was, then realized he probably did not understand her. She was surprised when he responded.
“Oh my, don’t tell me William failed to inform you that I was arriving?”
William was the architect for the keep and the one person who encouraged her to draw, claiming she was beyond talented. He was presently away securing materials that were needed for the keep and village.
The man continued to explain. “William and I are longtime friends and when he could not stop talking about what a talented artist you are, I knew I had to meet you. I recognized you right away from the drawing William did of you and I must say as talented as William is, he failed to capture your true beauty.”
His compliment startled Dawn since no one had ever referred to her as beautiful, her features plain, except her husband. He was the first to ever think and tell her that she was beautiful, and it was one of the reasons she had lost her heart to him.
“I requested William secure me an introduction and I am upset and embarrassed that he failed to arrive before me and alert you to my arrival since I have so looked forward to meeting you and seeing your talent for myself.”
With him knowing William, he would know she had no voice. She pointed to him, scrunched her brow, and shrugged.
He stared at her briefly before understanding and asking, “My name. You want to know my name?”
Dawn nodded.
“How rude of me to not introduce myself, my lady.” He bowed gallantly. “I am Tate, an artist to some of the great clans of Scotland and I am here to not only see your talent for myself but to draw your beauty.”
“NOT WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!” came the bellowing voice.
Dawn turned to see her husband, the mighty and infamous Cree appear from behind a cottage and walk toward them. He had a strong, confident gait, his wide shoulders drawn back, his chest tight with muscles beneath his tan shirt, and a scowl on his handsome face that had the artist’s eyes turning wide and taking several hasty steps back.
Her heart fluttered in her chest as it often did when she saw her husband. Her love for Cree never wavered, if anything, it grew stronger with each day. He may have frightened her when they first met but then his notorious reputation had been enough to frighten anyone. Now the only thing that frightened her about him was the fear of losing him.
Cree stretched his arm out to her as he approached, and Dawn smiled and stepped forward to take hold of his hand. It closed firmly around hers as if locking her to him.
“Who are you?” Cree demanded.
“Tate, my lord,” the man hurried to say.
Dawn heard the nervous tremble in his voice. Cree easily intimidated people without intending to. It was just who he was… a formidable warrior.
Tate continued and the more he talked the less his voice trembled. “I am an artist and a friend of William’s. He told me how talented an artist your wife is, and I had to come see for myself, though while here I would love to draw Lady Dawn. She has remarkable features.”
Tate watched Lady Dawn gesture to her husband and saw how easily he understood her, almost as though he heard her words.
“Now is not the time with the move into the new keep. Besides, you can draw the children far better than he can and without them sitting endless hours while you do,” Cree said after Dawn suggested the artist do a family drawing.
“A family drawing, I can do that,” Tate said, having understood part of Cree’s response to his wife.
“There is no time for anyone to sit for a drawing,” Cree said emphatically.
Tate tried to make sense of Dawn’s gestures when she once again spoke with her husband. Whatever she had said to him, he appeared to have conceded since he turned a tender look on his wife.
Cree’s expression showed no such tenderness when he turned to Tate. “You are welcome to stay a while and share whatever knowledge you have about drawing or the likes with my wife. Take advantage of my offer in any way and you shall be the first to occupy the dungeons in my new keep.”
“I am grateful, my lord,” Tate said with a bob of his head.
“FLANNA!” Cree bellowed and caused Tate to jump in fright.
Cree almost jumped himself when Flanna appeared from behind one of the empty cottages. He did not know how the woman did that, being close when he was about to summon her. But it did have its advantage.
“Aye, my lord,” Flanna said, stepping forward.