Prologue
Scottish Highlands, 1502
Caitrin Fletcher wrapped her arms around her middle and stared out the open window. “I willna go. Ye canna make me.” There was no point in starting an argument, one she knew she would lose, but she didn’t know what else to do. Outside, the sky brightened and wind blew aside the morning fog long enough for her to see her father and some of the men saddling horses. It was nearly time. In moments, she would leave the only home she’d ever known, perhaps forever.
Her old nurse, Rona, sighed behind her while she packed the last of Caitrin’s things. Caitrin heard something clatter to the floor but didn’t turn around to see what fell. To do that would be to face what she could not bear to see—her small chamber, stripped of all her belongings.
Her father was bent on sending her to foster with a clan of strangers. She didn’t understand why. Had she done something wrong? Why wouldn’t he tell her? Surely now Mama was gone, he’d want to keep her close by. Not send her away to people she didn’t know.
Rona’s footsteps approached. “I dinna believe a lass of nine summers has much to say about it when her da has his mind made up.”
Caitrin cringed. The weight of Rona’s hands on her shoulders nearly made her shaky knees collapse. The back of her eyes burned. She would not cry. She would not!
“Yer da is doin’ what he believes is the best for ye, lass.”
“Nay, he isna.”
Rona turned Caitrin to face her.
Caitrin kept her head down, refusing to meet her nurse’s gaze. For the second time in a month, her world was falling in on her.
“Do ye think this is easy for him, lass? He misses yer ma, too.”
Caitrin’s eyes welled, and no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, a tear leaked and trickled down her cheek.
“Now, lass, ye needna cry. The Lathans are no’ strangers to yer da. He wouldna send ye there unless he kent they would care for ye as one of their own.”
She bit her lip against the uncomfortable sensation of bees buzzing on her skin that had begun with Rona’s last words. “Ye’re just saying that. Trying to make me feel better. But it isna working.”
“Nay, lass, ’tis true. All will be well.”
“I ken ye’re lying to me. I can feel it. There’s something wrong.”
Rona gave her a little shake. “Look at me, lass, and listen. Ye must stop. Ye canna frighten people when ye reach yer new home. Do ye wish to be left all alone?”
Caitrin shook her head, gaze still on the floor and Rona’s boots though the torment on her skin had faded.
“Ye willna have any friends.” Rona continued, “Nay other lasses to play with. That isna what ye want, now is it?”
“Nay!” Caitrin couldn’t help it. The word came out as a wail, and tears washed down her cheeks much as they had when her da told her Mama had gone to the angels, and a wee bairn along with her.
Rona wrapped thin arms around her and hugged. “If ye keep what ye can do to yerself, ye’ll be fine, lass. No’ a soul needs to ken.” For a moment, Caitrin let herself be comforted, wrapped in the warmth of her old nurse’s embrace as she had been so many times before. But even that comfort could not console her. This might be the last time for that, too.
“I’ll ken.” Her words came out as a hiccup and Caitrin’s tears fell faster. “I’ll ken when they lie. It hurts me. How can I pretend I dinna ken when I do?”
“Ye must find a way, lass. Ach, my wee lassie, ye will find a way. Listen to their words, no’ what ye sense. Ye must learn to hold yer tongue.”
“Why can ye no’ come with me?”
“We’ve talked about this, lass. I’m too old to make the trip. I must stay here and take care of yer da.”
The bees came back. Caitrin wrenched away from Rona, shaking her head. “Da doesna need ye to care for him. He has all those men.” She pointed to the window where she’d seen the men saddling horses. “And servants. And...and...”
“Hush, now. What’s done is done.” Rona turned back to the bag on the bed, put in the last few items and closed it. “There, all set.”
Her voice sounded strangely hoarse. What was she hiding?
“Put on yer cloak, lass, and let’s get ye down to yer da for a proper leave-taking.”
