Chapter 1

Chapter One

Rain filtered

through the thick canopy of trees in the forest, drenching the man

who stood as still as a statue. Jamie’s gaze was fixed on the

courtyard of the fortress looming before him. For nearly two hours

he had watched as the mounted men arrived, one after another, to

disappear inside the sprawling Gordon manor house.

These would be the sons, he decided. He knew

there were four of them, though so far he could account for only

three. They, along with the old chieftain, Douglas Gordon, would

prove formidable opponents. But if he could get the fierce old

warrior and his sons to work with him, they would bring a dozen

fractious clans along with them. First he would have to get their

attention; no easy task, since they respected no one outside their

own blood. Then the trick would be to force them to sit still long

enough to hear what he had to say. With so many of them, he was apt

to find himself at the point of a sword before his first words

could be spoken.

Jamie touched a hand to the stiffness of his

shoulder, the lingering effects of an old battle wound. All those

hours in the saddle, and now the rain that chilled him clear to the

bone, were taking their toll. He yearned for a warm fire and a soft

bed. With a trace of impatience he shook his head to clear his mind

of such annoying thoughts. He could not afford to allow himself any

distractions.

These Gordons were fighters like himself.

They would not willingly listen to talk of peace among the Highland

clans. Nor would they respect a man who came, hat in hand, to ask

their help. It would take bold measures to get their attention. And

even bolder measures to enlist their aid. He had not yet decided

just what those bold measures would be.

Out of the comer of his eye he saw a sudden

movement and forced himself to remain motionless. As the rider

passed, Jamie noted the stubble of dark beard in a brooding,

handsome face. The lad’s hat was worn at a rakish angle. His dark

eyes gleamed with the sleek, smug look of a cat that had just

stolen his master’s cream. This would be Donald Gordon, the second

son, a rebel, and by all accounts a man who loved the wenches.

Jamie gave a satisfied nod. At last all the

sons were accounted for. Now he would wait and watch for an

opportunity to catch them unawares.

* * *

“So, laddie, you’ve finally come home.”

Murray Gordon, touching a hand to his newly cultivated beard, gave

his brother a lingering look. “We were just about to break our

fast. You’d best have an explanation ready. Father was planning to

have Robbie and Neal comb the village until they found you even if

it meant searching every maiden’s bed.”

Donald Gordon gave his elder brother a wink.

“They’d have had to look no farther than the widow Lennox’s

cottage.’’

“The widow Lennox?” Murray’s mouth dropped

before he added, “Have you cut such a swath through the eligible

wenches that you are now reduced to the charms of that plump

baggage?”

Donald threw back his head and roared. “Not

the widow, you dolt. Her fetching daughter.”

Murray shot him a withering look. “Why, she’s

no more than a child.”

“A child?” Donald tossed his cloak on a peg

and shook the rain from his hair. Turning to his brother he said

with a grin, “While you were looking the other way, that child grew

into a very charming lass.” He dropped his arm around Murray’s

shoulder as they strode toward the refectory. “And believe me, she

was most eager that I sample all her charms.”

Both men threw back their heads and roared.

The laughter died on their lips when they caught sight of the stern

countenance of their father. Douglas Gordon, seated at the head of

the table, speared them with a look of righteous anger.

“How kind of you to spare your family a few

moments of your precious time, Donald. It seems you can no longer

sleep in your own bed.”

“There are so many more—interesting beds in

the village,” Donald said as he seated himself.

Douglas slammed his fist on the table,

sending the dishes clattering. Everyone in the room fell

silent.

“Have I raised a son, or a rutting goat?”

“By all accounts, Father, I am merely

following in your glorious footsteps.”

Someone snickered.

Douglas Gordon’s eyes narrowed. It was clear

the lad had touched a nerve. He spoke in a tone of regret. “Aye. I

fear I was guilty of wenching in my youth.”

He fell silent as his only daughter circled

the table to fill his goblet. His gaze softened. How like his dear

wife Lindsey had become. She had inherited her mother’s thick,

auburn hair, framing the face of an angel. Her slight, slender

stature seemed even more pronounced because of a limp, which was

only noticeable when Lindsey was agitated or weary. It was the

result of a childhood injury that had nearly devastated her loving

parents.

Her mother had died when Lindsey was but a

child, and Douglas had done what any father would do; he had simply

taken the girl with him and treated her the same way he treated his

sons. The lass, surrounded by a warrior father and four brothers,

had abandoned all attempts at feminine pursuits.

Despite her physical frailty, the lass

possessed an indomitable spirit and a bright, logical mind. She had

mastered the use of small weapons as easily as her brothers. The

broadsword and longbow, however, required more strength than she

possessed.

Douglas knew that if she had been born a

male, she would have been his first choice to inherit the

leadership of this fierce clan.

Realizing his family had grown uncomfortably

silent, Douglas struggled to pull himself back from his somber

thoughts. “My wenching ended the moment I met Diedre. I want you to

know that from then on, there was never another lass who could turn

my head.”

Hearing the pain in his tone, Lindsey Gordon

brushed a kiss over her father’s shaggy eyebrow. “Aye. I remember

the love shining between the two of you. We all share your pain.”

Her warning gaze swept her brothers around the table. “Do we

not?”

“ ‘Twas a love like no other,” Murray said in

quick agreement.

Lindsey signaled to a servant, who filled the

other goblets.

“When I meet the woman of my dreams, my

wenching days will be over as well,” Donald said defiantly.

His words were greeted with hoots of laughter

from his sister and brothers.

“The woman of your dreams.” Neal, the

youngest, turned to the brother closest in age to him, whose

sun-kissed hair and fair features caused many a village lass to

turn and stare. “Tell me, Robbie. Has Donald been reading your

poetry?”

“ ‘Twould seem so. Tell us about this dream

vision,” Robbie said, winking at his sister as she took the seat

beside him.

“It wouldn’t do to fill your head. You’d best

keep your thoughts on those pretty words you write, Rob. And leave

the wenches to me.”

Lindsey joined in the laughter. “Describe

this woman to me, Donald. Mayhap I will find her for you among the

village wenches.”

“I need no help from my sister to find my

future wife.” Donald lifted his goblet, ignoring the jeers of

laughter from the others.

“Will she have big—eyes, like the widow

Lennox?”

Even Donald found himself laughing at that.

But one look at his father’s face wiped the smile from his lips.

Usually the old man was the first to join in the laughter and

teasing. But this day he was in a somber mood.

“What is it, Father? What troubles you this

morrow?”

‘We speak of foolishness while there are

rumors of turmoil at Holyrood.”

“Turmoil.” At the mention of Holyrood, the

queen’s residence in Edinburgh, Murray’s head came up sharply.

“What have you heard?”

“Rumors. Gossip. No one seems to know

anything. But ’tis whispered that the queen and her husband are far

from happy.”

“Is there not soon to be a child?” Lindsey

asked.

“Aye.”

“Then what can be wrong? They are so newly

wed.”

“There are those who say the queen’s foolish

young husband, Lord Darnley, would make our Donald look like a mere

jester among the women at court.” He glanced around the table at

his children. “If such whispers have reached us here in the

Highlands, do you not think Queen Mary herself has heard the

rumors? And is surely disheartened by them?”

Neal, the youngest, broke the silence. “Mary

is queen. Can she not command Darnley to love only her?”

Everyone burst into peals of laughter.

Lindsey touched a hand to his cheek, but he pulled away sharply,

embarrassed to be petted like a child. He was, after all, ten and

six years, and taller than two of his brothers. Only Donald was

taller, taller even than their father.

“Why does that amuse all of you?”

“Because,” Lindsey said patiently, “even the

queen cannot command someone to love her. Love cannot be ordered

about. Love just happens, without reason.”

“And how would you know about such things?”

Murray asked. As the eldest, he felt a keen sense of responsibility

toward his sister. She was, after all, still a maiden.

“Mayhap she has been reading your poetry,

Robbie,” Neal called out with a laugh.

“What care I about love?” Lindsey snatched up

her goblet, suddenly stung by their teasing. “ ’Twould only mean

having another man underfoot.”

“That would not be the worst thing to happen

to you,” Donald said with a sly laugh. “It is time you gave some

thought to taking a husband and filling this old house with

children.”

“I thought I would save that privilege for

you, Donald. Since there are so many willing maidens hoping to

catch your eye.”

“If the truth be told, there are far too many

to make a choice. You, on the other hand, have had so little

experience with the lads, any sturdy bumpkin should do nicely.

Perhaps you would like us to pick him out for you.”

“I shall do my own choosing, thank you.”

Lindsey pushed away from the table. “If you will excuse me, Father,

I will see to the servants preparing our meal.”

“Aye, lass.” Douglas watched as she flounced

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