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
Sorcha raised her face to the heavens briefly, blinking.
‘Very well, lassie. But I’m not leaving here until I’m assured you’re safe past the harbour. Mistress Dagny tells me your house lies on the eastern side of town.’
Surprised she could hear her sister’s name without anger, Sorcha nodded. ‘Aye, in Marygate, up past the kirk.’ She faced the town. ‘You can see the spire of the Tolbooth over there.’ She pointed towards a tall tower that rose above the buildings. Abutting the kirk, the Tolbooth served as both gaol and council chambers.
There were shouts from the harbour. The wall of rain had swallowed the Isle of May and was moving swiftly. The sky darkened; the wind became stronger. As one, the nagging birds wheeled away from the storm front, heading west.
There was no time to waste. Heaving her burlap over her shoulder, Sorcha took the reins of her mount and reached up to grip the old man’s wrist. It was thin but strong.
‘I thank you for escorting me back, Mr McDonald. If the storm should catch you, there is a place in Anster Wester where you can bide. It’s not too far from here. Look for an inn with the sign of a corbie on the left-hand side of Dreel Burn.’
Mr McDonald looked embarrassed. ‘It was nae bother, lass.’ He patted her hand and then took the reins she proffered, clearing his throat.
With a fleeting smile, Sorcha gave the horse that had borne her one last caress and, with a wave, began to descend the path winding down the cliffs. Before she’d taken a dozen steps, Mr McDonald hailed her.
‘I ken what happened back at the estate weren’t your fault. Despite what some did blether.’
Sorcha stopped and turned slowly in shock.
Mr McDonald continued. ‘Remember: freends ’gree best separate.’
Relatives agree best when they don’t live too near each other. Aye, well, that summed up the relationship betwixt her and Dagny. They’d always been better apart.
Not yet finished, Mr McDonald walked the horses to the very edge of the braes. ‘I might be an auld man, but I’m not blind. I can see what’s before my own eyes even if some in your family choose to remain ignorant, if you ken what I’m saying.’
She did. His kindness almost undid her.
The drops grew heavier. Sorcha nodded and found her voice. ‘I thank you, Mr McDonald. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
Without another word, she concentrated on her descent, aware of Mr McDonald’s eyes on her back. She was grateful that none of the figures growing more distinct as she approached had registered her presence… yet. They were too busy. She had a little time yet to prepare a tale.
God dammit. Her excuses.