Prologue
Isle of Skye, Scotland
The Year of Our Lord 1386
“Look at them all,” Lillith MacLeod grumbled, more to herself than to her twin beside her. “Every da dancing with his daughter except ours.”
“Aye,” Lenora replied in a longing whisper. “I wish we were out there dancing.”
Lillith did too, and the desire made her chest ache something fierce. She stared into the thick throng of her clansmen and women, longing to be among them, dancing, laughing, and celebrating the annual Winter Solstice. Instead, she and Lenora stood at the edge of the great hall dance floor. She curled her hands into fists at her sides as a lump settled in her chest.
“I’m going to talk to da,” she huffed, taking a step toward the dais where their da sat in conversation with one of the visiting lairds.
Lenora grabbed Lillith from behind. “Do nae do it, Lillith! Da’s wearing the vexed frown, and ye ken how grumpy he is when his face looks like that.”
“His face always looks like that, and he’s always grumpy,” Lillith grumbled as she turned to meet Lenora’s blue gaze, which everyone said looked exactly like Lillith’s.
“Ye’re going to get us both in trouble!” Lenora whined.
That was likely true. It seemed that when one of them got a scolding, the other did too, even if they’d done nothing wrong, but Lillith didn’t care at that moment. “I want to dance!” shereplied instead, stomping her foot, as tears of frustration filled her eyes.
Immediately, Lenora’s eyes filled with tears as well. “Me, too,” she whispered, “and ye’re right. Da has been frowning likely since the day mama died.” Lenora cocked her head, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Do ye wish me to come with ye?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
Warmth filled Lillith’s chest that her sister would ask, but she shook her head. “Mayhap if ye’re nae in sight, ye’ll nae be punished if that’s what comes about.”
Lenora bit her lip. “Ye’re certain?”
“Aye. There’s nae any sense in us both getting a scolding if it can be helped.” She pulled away from her sister’s grasp and drew a deep breath for courage, as Uncle Brus always said to do.
“I’ll be waiting right here,” Lenora called out from behind Lillith as she’d already turned away to step into the swirling mass of dancers. She ducked beneath extended arms and slipped between swaying hips, weaving a path toward her da. As she got closer, she could see that his lips were pressed in a hard line that made her tummy start to ache and doubt creep in. Should she turn back?
Just then, a burst of laughter washed over her, and she looked to the right to see Mary Frances being twirled in the air by her da. Their gazes met, and Mary Frances stuck her tongue out at Lillith. No, she’d not turn back. She wanted to show Mary Frances that Lillith’s da loved her just the same as—no, more—than Mary Frances’s da loved her. It was bad enough that Mary Frances was constantly blabbering about her mama and how she spun a bedtime story every night. Lillith’s mama was dead, but her da wasn’t, and she wanted to blabber to Mary Frances about how much her da, the very important Laird MacLeod, loved her and Lenora the most of any daughter ever.
She could not remember her mama, but she had a faint memory of her da being happy and loving once, and Uncle Brus and Aunt Elena had confirmed when she’d asked them that da had most certainly been happy. And they ought to know since they were his siblings. They also said he was still loving—it was just currently hard for him to show it.
In front of Lillith, a pair of dancers twirled apart, and she seized her chance to dart out of the crowd, surprised when she found herself before the dais. She’d not realized she was quite that close. She suddenly got all hot and sticky, and her tummy felt queasy. She stared up at the dais that raised her da and the other laird above the crowd. Her da was as big as a giant! How had she never noticed that?
She forced herself to square her shoulders and lift her chin. “Da,” she called, hearing the tremble in her voice. “Will ye dance with me?”
He dragged his gaze from the laird he’d been talking to and settled it on her. She didn’t know how it was possible, but his frown got fiercer, and the man beside him looked like his face might crack. Lillith’s legs wanted to stop holding her upright, but she locked her knees in place.
“Nae now, Lillith. I’m busy.”
Lillith felt her brows dip together, and her heart speed up. “Ye’re always busy.”
“That,” her da said, his eyes now narrowing upon her, “is because I’m laird. Now off with ye.”
“I want to dance!” she burst out.
“MacLeod,” the man beside her da bit out, “if ye kinnae control yer own wee lass, how can ye expect me to believe ye can command yer warriors to stop the Mathesons from invading yer lands and then coming for my stronghold?”
“I can control my daughter,” her da growled, his gaze looking more like a thunder cloud by the second. “Lillith, get back to yer sister and stop pestering me for silly things like dancing.”
She was going to cry. Her lip was doing that trembling thing, and her eyes were burning, and her throat was suddenly tight.
She jerked her head in a nod and turned away as the first tear fell.Stop pestering him.She was a nuisance to her da. So was Lenora. He didn’t have time for them. Or was it that he didn’t want to make the time for them? She didn’t know, but she knew she was sad. Really, really sad. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears, but they flowed hot over her cheeks and blurred her vision.
She hurried through the dancers to get back to Lenora, nearly colliding with several people. Suddenly, a large, warm hand caught her by the arm from behind.
