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

The women studied their surroundings. He noted how the light from the windows caught Sorcha’s eyes, turning them into pools of turquoise that reminded him of the lochs in summer on his family’s land back in Skye. More often wreathed in mists and rain, it was a wild place that encouraged tales and songs, much like Fife. He wondered how they fared, his folk. Whether the fish that swam in the lochs were more plentiful than those in the waters lapping the Weem. Listen to him, he sounded more like a local every day rather than the incomer he’d been made to feel by almost everyone — except for the fishwives and fishermen. Except for Sorcha McIntyre.

What had brought them here? Sorcha was fiercely proud and Nettie more independent than most women of his acquaintance. He smiled at Nettie, admiring her fine profile as she examined the paintings on the walls.

Some looked askance at Sorcha and Nettie, but there were many who respected them for what they did. He was among them. Respected and, truth be told, desired to get to know them better. Sorcha especially.

Much better.

‘What can I do for you?’ he asked politely, standing near the hearth so they might take the two seats. A servant quickly went to make tea.

‘Captain Ross,’ began Sorcha, standing with her back to a chair, but not sitting. ‘We need your help. Again.’

‘Whatever I can, lass, if it’s in my power, I will do it.’ He indicated for them to sit and they did, smoothing their skirts, pulling at their cuffs.

The tension that had made Sorcha’s shoulders square and her face pale seemed to recede a little. She glanced at Nettie, who gave a curt nod, and ventured a smile. His heart skipped to see it. ‘Thank you, I hoped that’s what you would say. Though you may alter your mind when you hear what kind of help we’re seeking.’

He waited.

Taking a deep breath, she intertwined her fingers in her lap, fixed her eyes on his face, and began. ‘You know of the sickness that has afflicted Peter Morton and how the reverend and others are attributing it to witchcraft? We had some discussion about this the day Peter fell ill.’

Aidan nodded. ‘I do. And I hear they’ve found someone to blame for casting the spell that bewitched the lad.’