Page 36

Dun Ugadale,

Kintyre Peninsula, Scotland

THE MOMENT GREER Forbes set eyes on the broch, she knew she belonged there.

Riding upon her palfrey, her gaze trained east, she found herself entranced. The fine hair on the back of her arms prickled, and her breathing quickened. Encircled by lichen-and-moss-encrusted walls, perched atop a rocky crag, the broch looked out across the waters of Kilbrannan Sound.

It was a lovely evening, and the sun gilded the hills and the patchwork of fields surrounding the broch. Sheep bleated in the distance, and in the village that crouched beneath the fortress, someone was playing a Highland pipe.

The haunting notes echoed through the still air.

“Now that’s a sound to welcome ye … there’s no music quite like a Highland pipe.”

Greer glanced sideways to where her maid, Inghinn, rode upon a sturdy garron. “I agree,” she said with a wide smile, “although I don’t know that tune.”

“Neither do I, Lady Greer. We must ask the laird to have them play it for us again.”

Anticipation fluttered up within Greer as she nodded. She’d looked forward to this visit for so long, after meeting Bonnie Mackay nearly a year earlier at Castle Varrich, there had been times she’d despaired it would ever take place.

Her parents had both been against the idea, yet she’d begun a campaign to gently persuade them.

In truth, she’d gone on about it for so long, her father had finally lost his temper one evening at supper.

“Enough!” he’d roared, his fist slamming down on the table.

“Spend the summer with the Mackays … just spare us more talk of them!”

And she had. As soon as her father accepted, she’d written to Bonnie and said nothing more about her impending trip, except for when it came to organizing the practicalities.

Her mother had been ill-tempered for days before her daughter’s departure.

Even the fact that Greer was traveling with her maid and a full escort didn’t pacify her.

“I don’t know why ye have to stay the entire summer,” she’d grumbled, the day before Greer was to leave.

“That’s quite an imposition on the Mackays. ”

“It was Bonnie who suggested it, Ma,” Greer had replied patiently. “And Dun Ugadale’s quite a distance from here … there’s little point in me traveling all that way for a week or two, is there?”

“Aye, but the roads aren’t safe … what with the conflict between the king and the Black Douglases getting bloodier by the month.”

“Well then, I shall ensure I have an escort of our most trustworthy warriors, Ma.”

Aye, she’d had to overcome a few hurdles to get here—but now her destination was before her.

The nervous fluttering within Greer grew more intense.

A whole summer away from Druminnor. Away from her overbearing family and the expectations placed on her. It was the adventure she’d always craved.

“I shall have a word with Lady Mackay upon our arrival,” Inghinn spoke up once more, drawing Greer’s attention. “We must make sure ye have lodgings befitting yer rank.”

Before Greer could reply, a snort intruded on their conversation.

A few yards ahead, Errol Forbes, who captained the men escorting Greer, cast a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.

However, his censure wasn’t aimed at Greer but Inghinn.

As usual, Errol was a man of few words, yet his expression made it clear he didn’t approve of Lady Greer’s maid issuing orders at Dun Ugadale.

Noting his disapproval, Inghinn’s pretty face pinched, two spots of red flowering across her cheeks.

“I’m sure the Mackays will look after all of us well,” Greer assured her maid cheerfully, pretending not to notice the tension between her maid and the captain. Instead, she shifted her attention back to the approaching broch.

Lord, there was something about its eyrie-like perch that called to her. “It’s so different to Druminnor,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Indeed, her father’s holding was a castle, not a broch. Druminnor reminded Greer of her father: square, solid, and unyielding.

Druminnor was mighty, yet Greer had always felt suffocated there. Instead, she was fascinated by this lonely broch that sat high above a wild shore here on the Kintyre peninsula.

Her chest constricted, emotion welling up inside her. The sensation was so strong that her eyes started to prickle. She’d never been here before—and yet felt as if she were coming home.

The Forbes party rode through the village, past men, women, and bairns who’d come out of their bothies to get a look at the newcomers.

Spying the curiosity upon their faces, Greer wondered how many visitors Dun Ugadale received. Judging from the way the women whispered together excitedly, pointing at her prancing palfrey and her escort upon fine coursers, she guessed few.

“Good evening,” Greer called out, waving to them.

Some of the villagers gaped at her then, clearly shocked that she would greet them. However, one or two managed to recover in time to wave tentatively back.

The village consisted of squat stone bothies with turf roofs gathered around a dirt square. The road took them past a stone kirk with a pitched roof tiled in slate before they started up the final incline toward the gates.

Craning her neck up, Greer spied helmed figures standing on the walls looking down at them. Of course, they’d see the clan sashes her escort was wearing and know that they were Forbeses. She waved at the guards too, enthusiasm surging within her now.

Finally, after many months, she’d get to see Bonnie again. The two women had formed a connection immediately after being introduced and had become fast friends by the end of their stay at Castle Varrich. In the months that followed, they corresponded weekly, updating each other on their lives.

The company clattered up the causeway and under the portcullis, filling the barmkin beyond.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with shaggy white-blond hair stood waiting for them, his arm around a woman’s shoulders. His companion was comely with thick brown hair and green eyes. Both viewed her with interest.

Greer eyed them back with equal fascination. The man reminded her of Iver Mackay, the laird of this broch, whom she’d met along with Bonnie, his wife, the previous autumn during a gathering at Castle Varrich.

This was clearly one of his brothers, although she had no idea which.

“A good eve to ye,” she called out, grinning.

The man’s mouth tugged into an answering smile. “Good eve. Lady Greer Forbes, I presume?”

“Aye,” she replied, drawing up her palfrey, Samhradh—Summer—and waiting while Errol and two others swung down from their coursers to help her dismount. “And who might ye be?”

“Kerr Mackay, Captain of the Dun Ugadale Guard, at yer service,” he said with a nod, “and this is my wife, Rose.”

“Delighted to meet ye both,” Greer replied warmly. “Bonnie mentioned ye in her letters … it’s good to finally put faces to names.”

“Greetings, Lady Forbes,” Rose said, a trifle shyly. “Welcome to Dun Ugadale.”

“Everyone has been looking forward to yer visit,” Kerr added. “Davina and Lennox arrive tomorrow, so ye shall be introduced then.”

“And Iver and Bonnie … are they here?” she asked.

“Aye, I imagine they’ll be on their way down as we speak,” Kerr replied. “I’ve just sent up one of my men to let them know ye have arrived.”

Greer nodded, letting Errol lift her off Samhradh’s back.

She then dusted off her skirts. She’d worn one of her favorite surcotes today for her arrival, although the blue damask was a bit grimy from traveling.

“I’ve been counting down the days till this visit,” she admitted then. “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”

Her unabashed enthusiasm earned warm smiles from Kerr and Rose.

“Here’s another member of the family ye should meet,” Kerr said then, motioning to someone off to one side. “Brodie … come over here and greet Lady Greer.”

Still smiling, Greer shifted her attention to the dark-haired man, wearing a smith’s apron and leather bracers upon his muscular forearms, who’d just appeared from his forge a few yards away.

He was scowling, clearly irritated at having been interrupted.

However, even his deep frown couldn’t detract from the fact that he was rakishly handsome.

Not even the smears of soot on his face could take that from him.

The man was big and brawny with short, curly dark hair.

There was something raw and masculine about him, something that made Greer’s belly flutter.

His gaze rested on her then, and Greer’s breath gusted from her lungs. Her smile froze on her face, and her heart kicked like a wild pony against her breastbone.

Those hazel eyes pinned her to the spot—as if he’d just shot her with a crossbow bolt.

It was impossible to look away.