Page 1 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

PART I

A HIGHLAND LASS FOR THE ENGLISH DUKE

PROLOGUE

Sundown.

A day into the spring equinox, Lissie would always remember. It was snowing; thick, hard, proper wooly snow. Not just a faint flutter on the crosswinds, but a howling blizzard. But the mayhem outside was nothing compared to the storm taking place in Duncan hall.

"Lissie, come on in, we've got something to ask ye!" her sister called from within the hall.

Pulling her warm shawl closely around her shoulders, nineteen-year-old Lissie froze. It was not unusual for the hall to be full. As the younger daughter of a laird, she was used to meetings and advisors milling around. But this was something else.

This time, they wanted her to participate in the conversation.

Shivering, she pushed her loose dark hair back and thrust herself into the melee. Unconsciously beautiful, Lissie did not make a lot of her natural attributes, but the ones she had were enough to make people look; her hair fell in waves without any help from curling papers. Her shapely eyes were blue and bright and always watching. And her rose-soft face was round and warm, making her alluring indeed.

The hall was packed and hot, but this did not stop Lissie from sensing the chill in the air.

It was in her sister's glare as she sat waiting.

"Lissie, we wouldnae ask ye if it wasn't necessary."

The worst thing was that this was her concerned face. Knowing this, her request would be very hard to ignore. Lissie tensed.

Whatever it was she wanted, it was unlikely to be good.

Fiona's light green eyes shone from across the hall. The room was full of counselors, elders, and family members, all clamoring to be heard. It was madness, and McTavish, the ancient clan elder, battled to impose silence.

Finally, Lissie managed to splutter.

"Fiona, what is this?" Lissie's eyes opened wildly, revealing their surprise. This had all come as a horrid shock. She had not been expecting to be the subject of a clan meeting—especially not one behind her back.

Fiona looked at her earnestly. "Lissie, like I said, we wouldnae ask ye if it wasnae serious."

Behind her, the others concurred. They were all there; Billie, her brother, straining to get his point in; her oldest sister, Grace, listening. And Aileen, recently married, juggling a three-year-old on her knee; all of them—and their husbands—scrutinizing her. Then, the elders in the background, melding into a sea of gray.

The heat in the room intensified. Lissie could take it no more.

"Nay!" she cried, without even knowing the question. But in her water, she knew it was not good. Something was coming.

Struggling to placate her, Fiona tried again, "Lissie, ye daft clootie, ye dinnae even ken what we are going to say."

Fiona's eyes flashed with exasperation. Right then, her whole face blazed. She was fearsome. Lissie had to admit, she looked every inch the clan leader, head to toe in the blue and brown Duncan plaid.

Lissie's stout heart quailed as she saw the resolve in Fiona's eyes. But determined, she held on.

"I dinnae need to ken, Fiona. I can see from yer face it is something I dinnae want to hear."

She was surprised at how desperate her voice was. It rang up into the air, notching up several notes. She sounded sugary and tearful, her voice spiraling high. This was not the tone she wanted to command.

On the other hand, Fiona was calm and dry.

"Lissie, ye need to grow up," said Fiona maddeningly.

Instantly, Lissie felt a fury only known by younger siblings of bossy elder sisters.

"The truth is, ye are of marriageable age, an' yer marriage is the only thing that can save the clan!"