Hands propped on her hips, Seonaid Dunbar tipped her head to the side. “Enlarge the castle and replace the crumbling old wall that surrounds it?”

“Aye.” Duncan could barely contain his glee. “We shall do that now. That an’ more. We shall dig a new well. Purchase fine horses. We shall e’en increase the size o’ our flock o’ sheep!”

“And how would ye be plannin’ to manage all that?” Seonaid asked skeptically.

“With coins from the English king.”

“Oh, aye,” Seonaid shared a disbeliving glance with the men around them. “And why exactly would the king o’ England be givin’ ye so much wealth?”

“He wants me to marry an Englishman’s whelp.”

“Marry?” The word was a bare whisper. Seonaid looked stunned, even a little hurt, and Duncan’s amusement faded, replaced with the beginnings of guilt.

Seonaid was his only sibling. She had been his only playmate as a child until their uncle had died and his children, Allistair and Aelfread, had come to live with them. Then it had been the four of them rolling and romping in the muck, tromping through the woods, and hunting or playing at games of war. When it had come time for the two boys to train in battle, Aelfread and Seonaid had joined in the practice sessions as if it were their right, and no one had said them nay. Both women now handled the sword with a skill equal to any man’s.

“She must be a cow for the king to pay so handsomely,” Allistair said with disdain as he moved to stand beside Seonaid.

“Aye, the veriest cow,” Aelfread agreed, taking up position on Seonaid’s other side.

Ignoring his cousins, Duncan peered silently at his sister, taking in her pale face and pinched lips. Like him, she had inherited the Dunbar height, almost matching his own six feet. But where Duncan was thick through the shoulders and chest, she was svelte, and where Duncan had their father’s wavy red-brown tresses, Seonaid had inherited their mother’s coloring. Her hair was black as night, flowing straight down her back like water out of a pail. She was strong, beautiful, twenty-four years old, and still not wed.

Cursing, Duncan turned away.

“Where be ye going?” Seonaid grasped at his arm.

Covering her hand with his own, he flashed her a reassuring smile. “I’ve some hagglin’ to do,” he murmured, then gently pulled free and headed for the keep.

He would marry the English. He would marry her for the money. But he would also marry her for Seonaid, for he would ask a favor of the king in return. Duncan would see Seonaid married. He would have the king force Lord Sherwell, his sister’s betrothed, to either fulfill their betrothal contract or set her free to marry another. Either way, she would no longer be left in the limbo that made her so unhappy.

Duncan had decided.

Chapter One

“The English be comin’!”