August 1541
Angusshire, Scotland
Sheena woke in the quiet hour just before dawn, and in only a few minutes she had braided her thick, long hair and donned the tunic and plaid that disguised her as a young lad. With a candle in one hand and a small bundle clasped in the other, she slipped from the tiny room that had been hers ever since she became estranged from her sisters and could no longer bear to share their much larger, more comfortable chamber.
Down a narrow corridor were five steps that led to Niall’s bedchamber on another, higher level. There were several levels in Tower Esk, many small rooms and cubbyholes. There were only a few large chambers besides the hall on the second level, and the storage anddungeon below that.
Sheena’s home was one of the newer tower houses that, more and more, across the Lowlands, were replacing large castles. Only a century old, Tower Esk was a family stronghold rather than a feudal fortress. Just a small fortified hall, really, it was designed simply and plain in appearance, although it did have little runs of crenellation on the parapets and balustraded galleries. Six stories high and taller than it was square, it was not as impregnable as a castle. But it would be no easy task to overtake it, either.
Sheena had grown up on the ever-disputed border between the Lowlands and the Highlands. The borderline was in dispute because, while the differences between the two areas were distinct differences in culture and language, the Fergussons were a mix of the two. The Highlanders were an uncivilized lot, a Gaelic-speaking people with perhaps one kirk per parish, sometimes not even that. They were hardly pious or God-fearing. And they thrived on war like no other people did.
The Lowlanders were more civilized because of their closer association with the English, their numerous royal burghs and grand abbeys. They were more pious, as well, with an abundance of kirks. Though, truth to tell, many of their Catholic priests and monks were not as devout as might be expected, their positions being mostly hereditary.
The Fergussons, in the middle, tried to maintain a balance. They spoke English because they wereconsidered Lowlanders, but they knew Gaelic because they had come from the Highlands centuries before. And they had fewer dealings with the English or with royalty, and were less likely to forget the old tongue. They wore English fashions, true, and Sheena even had an aunt in Aberdeen who was a nun, but they were not pious, going to kirk perhaps once a month.
It was not pleasant being in the middle and being a small clan, ever troubled by the bigger clans and currently at war with a powerful Highlander. Lowlanders farther south lived in comparative peace. Not so the Fergussons. Sheena could certainly understand her father’s hope for alliances and his need to use his daughters toward that end.
Opening the door to her brother’s room, Sheena found him still fast asleep. But a quick shake altered that, and when Niall’s eyes opened and saw the way Sheena was dressed, he groaned and ducked his head under the covers. She wouldn’t have been dressed so if she hadn’t meant to leave the tower.
“Come on now, Niall.” Sheena shook him again.
“Nay.”
“We’ll be back ’afore the sun rises,” she persisted, yanking his covers away. “You wouldna have me go alone, would you?”
Niall knew that determined tone well enough and could only grumble, “You’ll be getting us both a skelping.”
“Nonsense. No one’s to know.”
“I dinna like this, Sheena. No’ for me, but for you. ’Tis dangerous to leave the tower these days. What if—”
“Dinna say his name!” Sheena snapped. “I’m sick to death of hearing that cursed name.”
“That doesna change the facts, Sheena. He’s raided five times in the last three months since he broke the truce. He rides our land as if it were his own. How could I protect you if he came upon us on the moor?”
“That’ll no’ be happening, Niall, and you know it well. He doesna raid this early. He waits for the bright light of day for his dirty deeds, so there’ll be no mistaking him for another.”
“And what if he were to change his tactics?”
“He’s too bold to resort to surprises,” she scoffed. “Now dress yourself and be quick about it. Old Willie’s the gatekeeper today, and he’s blind as a bat, so there will be no trouble slipping past him.”
A short while later, two small figures ran across the moorland. Horses would have saved time, but they would never have got out of the tower with horses. As it was, they had been delayed by the departure of an unexpected patrol. The five men would be able to do very little against a band of MacKinnions, but a party of scouts was better than no warning at all. That warning was becoming increasingly important, for Dugald feared more and more that the tower itself would be attacked, not just the crofts.
The sky was turning pink already, but Sheenawould not let her spirits sink, even though her time in the glen would be cut short. Today was bathing day, and she planned to take impish pleasure in shocking her sisters by not bathing with them, for they would never guess she had already done so. It was just one of the little pranks she played on her sisters to get even for their constant nagging. Margaret was usually the first to call her wild and irresponsible, and to complain to their father that no man would have Sheena because she was slovenly, disrespectful, and much too bold.
Her father knew better. She wasn’t really wild, and certainly not slovenly. He knew her love for swimming and riding, which was why he had forbidden her to leave the tower. She was a touch disrespectful, but only when her temper was riled did she dare argue with her father.
Sheena sighed. There had been a lot of that lately, especially the month before when he gave up expecting her to name a husband. He had done so for her. The only good thing about it was that it had put William out of the running.
“Will you join me this time, laddie?” Sheena asked as they reached the high bank that looked down on the little pool. “The water should be warm enough. Oh, it does look inviting!”
“And who’d watch over you, eh?” Niall shook his head and plopped down on his favorite rock. From there he could view the whole of the moor on this side of the glen.
“But you haven’t swum once this summer, and Iknow you love it as much as I. In the spring you said the water was too cold, and then the trouble began.”
“We shouldna have come here, Sheena,” he said.
Sheena grinned at his stern look. “You worry too much, m’dear. Where’s your sense of adventure gone? You havena once asked me to go fishing with you this summer, nor grouse hunting.”
