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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

Janet Cornfoot made a sign at his back with her fingers. ‘What an auld clash-bag.’

‘Don’t let him or any of his followers see you doing that,’ said Nettie sharply, slapping Janet’s hands.

‘Och, he be a whillywha. Nothing to worry about.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said Nettie quietly.

Sorcha looked at her friends, then the reverend. ‘Me either.’

Once he was out of sight, a few folk came forward to welcome Sorcha home and ask after Dagny. For all that Sorcha was touched by their words, it was obvious they feared to show her friendship before the reverend. She may have been gone for months, but the man held great sway in the village.

He also held a grudge.

Sensing her thoughts, Nettie gave her a nudge. ‘Come along. We’ve fish to gut.’ She dragged her away, Janet trotting by their side.

It was only as they passed the kirk that Sorcha saw someone else who’d been watching and listening from the opposite side of the wynd.

Captain Ross lifted his hat and gave her a half bow. As their eyes locked, she saw something in them that both disturbed her and made her mind gallop. Black as coal, within his gaze was a mixture of anger and defiance. Whether directed towards her or the reverend’s words, she wasn’t sure. But her heart pulsed in the most peculiar way. She lowered her head, hoping he didn’t see the colour that filled her cheeks. When she raised a hand to return his courtesy and wish him a happy New Year, he’d gone.

She wanted to ask Nettie if she’d seen him, but the question was soon forgotten as they reached the East Shore. She halted where the wynd met the water. The Firth of Forth opened before her, the heaving seas and jagged coastline running as far as the eye could see. To the east, she could make out the colourful houses of Anster and its long harbour wall. To the west, the land cut away up to St Monan’s, the steeple of its church rising above the braes. Out on the silver expanse, waves tossed the few clinker boats. She could see nets and lines cast, the men constantly moving shapes upon the decks. The wind was strong and icy, sharp fingers prodding and poking her face, making her eyes water and her breathing sharp. It caught her skirt, tried to tear the neepyin from her head. Shutting her eyes, Sorcha immersed herself in the moment, resting her head briefly on Nettie’s shoulder, unaware of the whimsical smile Nettie and Janet shared. They understood how she felt.

It was only after they’d walked a distance, chins tucked into chests against the wind, that Sorcha heard voices. Coming towards them through the fine veil of sea spray was a group of fishwives.