BooksBarbecue
Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

‘I don’t remember sanctioning a party, Private Donall,’ said a deep, deadly voice.

Emerging slowly out of the shadows of Lady Wynd came a man on horseback. He carried a sword, which he deftly spun. Behind him rode another, older man. Sorcha hadn’t been imagining the horse’s hooves after all. But how they had ridden down the wynd without making a sound until now was a feat worthy of a phantasm.

‘Captain Ross,’ said the one called Private Donall, sheathing his knife and standing to attention. ‘I didn’t see you, sir. Nor you, Sergeant Thatcher.’

The soldiers quickly put distance between themselves and the women, replacing their dirks, the gun disappearing. The man with the torn mouth tried to staunch the blood with his sleeve and hide the damage.

‘That much is apparent,’ said Captain Ross. ‘But since we are here, I’m ordering you to return to your quarters. Once you get there, I want you all to think on an appropriate way to celebrate Hogmanay — one that doesn’t involve unwilling women.’

‘Unwilling?’ squawked the man with the torn lip. ‘They were willing to start with, sir.’

‘I can see that by the blood bubbling from your mouth, Private Dyson.’

Dyson? Sorcha tried to place the name. Surely that wasn’t young Jamie Dyson from Anster Wester?

‘In my experience,’ said Captain Ross, ‘and no doubt the good sergeant’s here, willing women don’t oft express their consent in such a manner.’ He paused.

Sergeant Thatcher nodded grimly. ‘Nor in mine,’ he growled.

‘I want you to think long and hard about the type of celebration I’m going to insist you enjoy.’ Before the men could exchange even a puzzled look, the captain continued. ‘Here’s your choice, lads. You can either spend the next two days in the stocks or, if you’d rather, aboard a frigate bound for Flanders. What do you say to that?’

The men stared at him in disbelief. ‘But… sir, you said we’d be celebrating.’

‘Aye. I did. You’ll either be celebrating the cold here in Fife or celebrating the same in the Low Countries. Take your pick.’

Sorcha couldn’t help it, she laughed. Nettie and the others did as well.

The men’s shoulders sagged.

Captain Ross cast an amused look towards the women. ‘Would you call that fair, lasses?’

‘I would, captain,’ said Sorcha, enjoying the men’s discomfort. Jamie Dyson shot her a poisonous look. Here she was, home five minutes, and already she’d added another enemy to her tally.

‘And me,’ chorused her friends.