In the Arms of a Highland Warrior (Highland Myths Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Highland Myths Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
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“I am late to greet you,” Ingrid said, rushing up to her mother who had dismounted with the help of her husband.

Ingrid proudly held her swaddled daughter out to her mother. “Your firstborn granddaughter, Astrid.”

Orianna smiled with delight as she cuddled the sleeping lass to her chest. “She is beautiful, Ingrid.”

“She looks like me,” Sven said, coming up behind his wife.

“That is debatable,” Rune said, looking down at his granddaughter and smiling.

They climbed the stairs after Orianna handed Astrid back to her daughter.

Bhric had refused to let his wife walk down the stairs to greet his parents, her leg having troubled her the last couple of days, and he worried it was the added weight of the bairn she carried that caused her leg to flare with pain.

“Tavia, how wonderful to see you all grown,” Orianna said and reached out and hugged her.

Rune nodded after looking Tavia up and down. “Your mother chose wisely for you, Bhric.”

“Aye, the more fool me for not realizing it sooner,” Bhric said. “Come, there is food and drink waiting for you.”

It was a pleasant family visit even Marta joining in, though she kept her distance from Tavia. The woman had been too busy helping Ingrid with the bairn to cause her any problems and she was glad for it.

She listened and laughed along with stories the family shared and warnings were given to Tavia, in jest, to beware of one or two of Bhric’s brothers and sisters. She envied the large family and the life they shared and hoped that she and Bhric would have a large family of their own.

But first, she needed to know about her parents.

It was as if Bhric read her thoughts. “Mother, a private moment with you, please.”

“What do you mean a private moment?” Ingrid demanded. “You can say what you will in front of family.”

“Let it be, Ingrid,” Sven ordered.

She turned narrowed eyes on him. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Nay!” Sven snapped, “and I do not need to know unless Lord Bhric wishes to tell me.”

Bhric led his wife and mother out of the Great Hall before Ingrid could say anymore, though it did not stop her from complaining to her husband and father.

They settled in Bhric’s solar, the chairs grouped around the flaming hearth, the room holding a slight chill. Spring had settled in, but a chill wind blew now and again.

Fen, having followed them, not leaving Tavia’s side since she had rounded with child, rested beside her chair.

“I will not make this any more difficult than it probably already is for you, Tavia. You both obviously heard something questionable about your birth,” Orianna said.

“Aye, and I would very much like to know the truth,” Tavia said.

Bhric reached out and took hold of her hand and looked to his mother. “The whole truth, Màthair.”

Orianna was touched by her son calling her mother in the language of not only her birth but his as well. “You have to understand I gave my word, and this cannot be revealed to anyone, least of all to Newlin.”

“He knows nothing of it?” Tavia asked, relieved to know her da had not kept the truth from her.

“Nothing,” Orianna confirmed.

“Newlin is not Tavia’s da?” Bhric asked.

Orianna shook her head. “Nay, he is not… and Margaret is not her mum.”

Hearing Bhric’s mum confirm not only that her da was not her da, but her mum was not her mum as well sent a shiver down so deep through Tavia that she was sure it touched her soul. “Who are my parents and why was I taken from them and given to my da?”

Tavia’s hand went to rest on her stomach, thinking how she would never let her bairn be taken from her.

“Does the bairn trouble you?” Bhric asked concerned, his hand going to rest over hers.

“Nay,” Tavia assured her husband. “I just cannot imagine a mum giving away her newborn bairn.”

“Your true mother died in childbirth just as Margaret did, and Margaret’s bairn died as well.” Tears welled in Orianna’s eyes. “Margaret and Newlin were thrilled when she got with child. They had lost two bairns before they even got to take shape, so when Margaret carried her bairn to full term they both were thrilled and excited. Unfortunately, her delivery did not go well.

“The same night a young servant lass at Clan MacVannan gave birth. She was a small one and weak from an ordeal she had suffered but had managed to escape. Lord Bennett treated her well while she was with him. Her delivery was not going well, and she was wise enough to realize she would not survive it. She begged Lord Bennett to keep her child safe. She had confessed all to him before she died, and he brought the bairn to me asking for help. I took the newborn to Margaret and told her the tale of the homeless bairn and how she needed protection. She took you in her dying arms and claimed you as her daughter and insisted I promise to never tell Newlin the truth. That he must never know that their child was lost that night. She feared he would never survive the news of losing both his wife and child. It helped that your mother had the same-colored hair as Margaret and was petite like Margaret. No one would ever suspect you were not her child.”



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