Chapter One
EILEAN CREAG CASTLE, THE WESTERN HIGHLANDS, AUTUMN 1348
Let us speak plainly, my sister. What you would have us do is pure folly.”
Lady Gelis MacKenzie dismissed her elder sister’s opinion with an impatient flip of one hand. Scarce able to contain her own excitement, she ignored the other’s lack of enthusiasm and stepped closer to the arch-topped windows of their tower bedchamber.
A bedchamber she hoped she wouldn’t be sharing with Lady Arabella much longer.
Not that she didn’t love her sister.
She did.
Just as she adored their lovely room, appointed as it was with every comfort and luxury their father, the Black Stag of Kintail, chose to lavish on them. Elegant trappings met the eye no matter where one gazed, and those trusted enough to gain entry saw immediately that the room’s sumptuous finery rivaled even that of the Black Stag’s own privy quarters. But Gelis cared little for the splendor of the hooded fireplace and matching pair of carved oaken armchairs, or the jewel-toned tapestries and extravagant bed hangings of richest brocade, each costly thread glowing in the light of fine wax candles.
Flicking a speck of lint off her sleeve, she cast a glance at her sister. Even if some stubborn souls refused to admit it,sheknew that life held greater treasures.
Wax candles and hanging oil lamps might banish shadows and a well-doing log fire surely took the worst bite out of a chill Highland morn, but such things did little to warm a woman’s heart.
Enflame her passion and make her breath catch with wonder.
Wonder, and love.
Such were Gelis’s dreams.
And all her sister’s purse-lipped protestations weren’t going to stop her from chasing them.
Apparently bent on doing just that, Arabella joined her in the window embrasure. “Such nonsense will bring you little joy,” she contended. “Only a dim —”
“I am not light-minded.” Gelis whipped around to face her. “Even Father wouldn’t deny Devorgilla of Doon’s wisdom.”
Arabella sniffed. “There’s a difference between spelling charms and herb-craft and expecting moon-infused water to reveal the face of one’s future mate.”
“Futurelove,” Gelis corrected, unable to prevent a delicious shiver of anticipation. “Love as in a girl’s one true heart-mate.”
Looking unconvinced, Arabella moved closer to the window arch and peered down into the bailey. “Och, to be sure,” she quipped, “we shall hasten below, stare into the bowl you hid in the lee of the curtain wall last night, and then we shall see our true loves’ faces there in the water.”
“So Devorgilla said.”
Arabella lifted a brow with predictable skepticism. “And you believe everything you are told?”
Gelis puffed a curl off her forehead. “I believe everythingDevorgillasays. She has ne’er been known to err. Or can you prove otherwise?”
“I —” Arabella began, only to close her mouth as quickly. Turning aside, she trailed her fingers along the edge of a small table. “ ’Tis only that you’ve so much fancy,” she said at last, a slight furrow creasing her brow. “I would not see you disappointed.”
“Bah!” Gelis tried not to convulse with laughter. “My only disappointment is when Father refuses a bonny suitor! I do not mind him naesaying the toads, but some have been more than appealing.”
“Then why bother to peer into a scrying bowl if you already know Father isn’t about to let you wed?” Arabella dropped onto the cushioned seat in the window embrasure, a frown still marring her lovely face.
“Isn’t about to let either of us wed,” Gelis amended, grabbing her sister’s arm and pulling her to her feet. “He shall claim we are both too young even when we are withered and gray! Which is why we must use Devorgilla’s magic. If the scrying bowl shows us the faces of our future husbands, we shall have the surety that there willbehusbands for us. I will go mad without that certainty.”
You already are mad, Gelis thought she heard her sister grumble. But when she shot a glance at her, Arabella wore her usual look of eternal composure.
An expression that could needle Gelis beyond patience.
Choosing to ignore it, she tightened her grip on Arabella’s arm and dragged her toward the door. “Come,” she urged, triumph already surging through her, “there is no one in the bailey just now. If we hurry, we can test our fortune before anyone notices.”
“We will see naught but the bottom of the bowl,” Arabella decided as they made their way belowstairs and out into the empty courtyard and an emptiness so stifling its heavy quiet threatened to dampen Gelis’s confidence. Brilliant autumn sunshine slanted across the cobbles, and nothing stirred. The whole of the vast enclosure loomed silent, the thick curtain walls seeming to watch them, looking on in stern disapproval of their frivolous pursuit.
