Chapters (76)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also by Karen Brooks
- Title Page
- Dedication
- EXPLANATORY NOTE
- PART ONE
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- PART TWO
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- PART THREE
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- PART FOUR
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Epilogue: Autumn 1706
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- GLOSSARY
- LIST OF CHARACTERS
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Together, they would manage the Mistral, help breathe life back into the Weem, a good life; one not governed by suspicion, fear of God and what others might say or do, but guided by hard work, honesty, kindness and, as they looked into each other’s eyes, love.
As Aidan Ross took Sorcha McIntyre’s hand, assisting her as she mounted the steps, she thought of all the other support he’d given her. The letters he’d written to Edinburgh before he really knew her, demanding justice, informing the authorities about the travesties being committed by the minister and a group of councillors in a small town in Fife. Knowing that, as an officer in the Queen’s army, he was forbidden to involve himself in such matters, he’d simply signed his letters as ‘A Gentleman of Fife’, a moniker Sorcha had borrowed to good effect. In doing so, between them, they’d not only kept an account of what had really happened, but ensured that, in the end, a kind of justice was served.
It may not have been the outcome she’d sought — after all, Thomas and Janet had died — but it was what she’d been given and, by God, she’d take it.
Just as she’d take this brave, loving man as her husband.
When Robbie joined them before the fishwives and their families, former soldier Stephen Thatcher and the townsfolk of the Weem, according to the laws of God and man, she sent a silent prayer to her da, her mor, her brother Erik and her baby son. To Andy who, though he’d not been the husband she’d wanted, had been a good man. He’d be happy for her, she thought.
He’d also be pleased about the new life growing within her, the one that belonged to her and this man beside her, her husband, who had given her the fresh start she once desired, blessed hope and a child to share with him.
Cheers rose for the newly-wedded couple and they exchanged a long and not-so-chaste kiss. Sorcha closed her eyes and melted into Aidan’s embrace, tasting his warm lips, feeling the beat of his heart as he held her against him.
It was then she also heard the sea.
Breathing in and out, pulsing like Aidan’s heart, giving the town life, it was singing softly. Just for her. Listening intently as she stood in Aidan’s arms, she heard in its dulcet notes its promise to her, and to this man, both of whom had chosen to stay in this wee town wrapped along wild and wonderful shores.
It promised her that from this day forward she and Aidan, and their burgeoning family, could put all that led to this moment, the death, doubt and dread, in the past and look to the future.
A future in which a fishwife, sometime witch and her sea-sisters could love and, above all, live.
THE END