CHAPTER ONE
Helena slipped quietly through the study door, Mags following close underfoot. The orange tabby was her constant companion, often acting more like a hound than a feline. She ignored his constant and dramatic meows, which were nothing more than requests for her to stop what she was doing and pet him immediately.
Impatient as always.
She was careful not to drop any wax from the candelabra as he weaved between her legs, nearly tripping her several times as they crossed the room. She skimmed through the titles of the books on the shelf. Her father’s library was extensive, with works from all over the Continent by various prominent authors of the past century.
Of course, the book she was looking for held sentimental value. It had been her mother’s, one of the few pieces of literature that had been written by a woman. Her aunt Sophia had requestedAne Godlie Dreamespecifically, and Helena was eager to provide any means of distraction for her still grieving aunt.
Sophia had become quiet and withdrawn since the loss of her only son, Ian. Along with Helena’s older brother Broderic, the two heirs to Clan MacPherson had been ambushed and killed while on an errand for her father mere months ago. This had unmistakenly catapulted Helena into maturity. The death of the only two heirs, and her closest family members, had scarred her for life.
“Where is it?” she muttered to herself, continuing to skim through the volumes.
Hastily, she combed through the next bookshelf. Her father did not like anyone to wander in his study, including his children.
His child, now.
She crossed to the desk, taking the time to look through the stack of books there when she didn’t find it on the shelves. Setting the candelabra down on the oak top carefully enabled her to use both hands to sift through the various items there.
“How can he find anything in this mess?” she muttered to herself.
Mags jumped up on the desk, disturbing a stack of papers as he meowed at her in protest, irritated that she continued to ignorehis requests for pets. The cat was nearly as bossy as her aunt some days.
Curious, Helena picked the cat up and put him back on the floor, then took a hard look at the papers he had been sitting on. The signature caught her eye, the edges frayed from persistent handling.
Why would the Laird of an enemy clan write to him?
Picking up the letter on top, she began to read it.
Laird MacPherson,
I humbly request (again) a meeting to negotiate a truce between our great clans. The persistent squabbles and strain on our resources are becoming tedious for both of us. Once again, I would like to find a middle ground that satisfies us both. I beseech you to put an end to this useless endeavor.
Alexander Gordon, Laird MacAllister
Confusion clouded her mind as she read the signature. Alexander Gordon had assumed the Lairdship of Clan MacAllister a mere few years ago, after his father’s death. As Broderic would have if he were still alive when their father passed.
Their families had been at war since before she was born. She wasn’t even sure what had started the conflict, but she knew that her clan was slowly fading.
The MacAllisters continued to have a strong line of succession. Alexander had two siblings—a younger brother and a sister. Meanwhile, all the MacPhersons had was her, and she couldn’t even assume the lairdship. She would ultimately have to marry and bear an heir, who would then inherit the title.
Placing the first letter back on the desk, she picked up the one beneath it and read it. The dates were only a fortnight apart. A fortnight during which her entire world had changed.
Laird MacPherson,
I would like to extend my condolences upon hearing of the loss of both your son and nephew. I indeed had the pleasure of making their acquaintance and indulging in cups and cards with them before their demise. However, I assure you that neither my men nor myself were involved in their misfortune.
Alexander Gordon, Laird MacAllister
She picked up the next one, then the next, realizing that they were all from him.There were easily half a dozen of them, all along the same premise.
So, he admits to meeting with Broderic and Ian that night. Yet, he insists that he is innocent of their deaths. Nice try, Laird MacAllister. But we ken better.
She had been there when the messenger had arrived with the news of their deaths. Had witnessed her father’s cold-hearted fury and heard his promise to gain retribution against Alexander Gordon.
Why is he writin’ apologies and truce requests if he is responsible, though? These requests go back even months before their deaths. Why would Father nae want to bring an end to the war?
But she knew the answer to that last question. The war had taken nearly everything from Chester Fraser. He had nothing left in his cold, black heart besides the thirst for revenge.
