But she had no thought to remove her boots when she sat on the flat stones. Her thoughts had lingered as to who would be by Cree’s side when the castle was finished, the village built, the port flourishing. And why did she let the thought disturb her? He would never wed her. She could bring nothing to a marriage. And why would she even think of such a foolish thought.
She, like the other villagers, served Cree. Each and every one of them did as he dictated and that would always be the way of it. Feeling maudlin she found a rock with a pointed edge and began to draw in the dirt.
Cree watched her as he listened and spoke with William. Something had changed within Dawn when they had reached the top of the bluff. Her enthusiasm for the castle drawings had waned and she seemed upset, though he could not fathom why.
William had more sketching he wished to do while here and Cree had hoped to walk with Dawn to a small secluded area where they could enjoy a moment of intimate privacy. Very intimate privacy. Deep, penetrating intimate privacy. He grew hard thinking about it.
Cree asked William more questions and made some suggestions to the port drawing. It was essential that the port be built. He had plans, big plans and the King had agreed with him. And the King knew that he would see the plans done. Another reason he had awarded him this land and arranged a marriage. One he had no choice but to enter into.
He rarely heard the thud of his heart so when he did, he found it odd. It was almost as if something was awakening in him and he wasn’t happy about it. He did what he had to do and he did it well and did so because he did not allow himself to care.
He had stopped caring the day he had buried his mother and had placed his sister in the convent. And with each visit to his sister. he had grown more distant, and she to him until… it had been four years since he’d last seen her. And the thought suddenly disturbed him.
William rolled up the maps and cast a nod at Dawn. “She has a remarkable talent. May I see what she is drawing, my lord?”
He was just as curious and so they both walked over and peered down.
“Good Lord, that is fantastic,” William said startling Dawn, though she smiled at his compliment. “My lord, if she does such an amazing drawing of you in the dirt I cannot phantom what talent she would have with a brush. You should have her paint a portrait of you to hang in the Great Hall of the keep. I would be only too pleased, while on my journey, to gather the necessary items she would need to paint and draw.”
Dawn cast hopeful eyes on Cree. She would love to have the materials to draw with and to paint. They had been luxuries out of her reach but now and again she would dream.
“We will see,” Cree said and his heart thudded again when her hopeful expression faded. And he scowled. “Finish, William, we leave shortly.”
William bowed his head and hurried off.
“Come,” Cree said holding his hand out to Dawn while casting one last look at his image. Stern? Authoritative? Stalwart? This is how he appeared to her?
She took his hand with reluctance and was surprised when he issued orders to his men in French. At that very moment she was grateful to her mum for having taught her to understand French and Latin as well.
Cree ordered his men not to disturb him unless necessary, which had Dawn wondering his intentions, though the grins on the warriors’ faces had them assuming the obvious and she blushed with embarrassment. But didn’t everyone know by now that she was Cree’s woman?
They entered the woods that bordered the north side of the bluff and Cree walked with such confidence that it was obvious he was familiar with the land. If that was so then he had to have come here often or could he have lived his younger years in this area?
There was so much she didn’t know about Cree. And what she did know she had learned through gossiping tongues. Some of the tales were proving true while others had proved false. Who truly was this man that she had willingly surrendered to and who was stealing her heart a little bit at a time?
He stopped abruptly a few feet into the woods and turned to her. “What’s wrong?”
She scrunched her brow, not quite understanding.
“You had been thrilled about talking with William and looking over the plans for the castle and suddenly you sulk off to sit on a rock and draw a portrait of me. So what is wrong?”