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PROLOGUE

Amelie’s heart fluttered with excitement and more than a little trepidation. Her eyes danced across the words of her brother’s letter, inviting her to spend their birthday together at the keep in the clan of which he was Laird. She swelled with pride when she thought of dear Pascal being a Laird, being respected, being loved. It was a far cry from the life they had lived back in France, when they wore rags and their faces were smudged and their stomachs were always growling with hunger. She shuddered as she thought about those days and reflected upon how much life had changed for all three of them.

Fleur, her eldest sister, had found happiness with Lachlan. Pascal was now married to Bridget. They had grown up in the wild streets of Paris, abandoned by their father, orphaned after their mother had died. It had always been a struggle to survive as they were shunned by people who thought they were nothing but wretched urchins, bedevilled and cursed. Somehow they had survived, and then two good-hearted Highlanders had found them and rescued them, bringing them back to Scotland. It had not always been easy, however, as many people in Scotland were prejudiced against foreigners. The three siblings had struggled to make a home for themselves in this new world, but they had each found a place where they belonged. For Fleur, it was in a happy home, for Pascal it was the position of Laird in their ancestral clan, taking up the role he would have held had their mother never had her heart stolen by a French merchant and been spirited away to Paris. And, for Amelie, it was in a peaceful nunnery tucked away in the lush embrace of the forest where she could reflect on her life, praise God, and feel protected by the sisters and the strong walls that surrounded her.

And so, although she was excited to receive the invitation, her heart fluttered with nerves. Her tongue darted out to wet her lip and she shifted her position. It had been a long time since she had left the nunnery, and when she did it was never for very long. In the letter, Pascal said he wanted a grand celebration, and she was sure he would have one that was befitting a Laird. As twins, they had always celebrated their birthday together, and it was only right that they continue to do so. But he was beloved by so many, and she was just a nun. She had never made much of an impression on people, always fading into the background like a faint whisper amid roaring laughter. Her condition had grown better over the years, and she could actually speak now when she felt comfortable, but still… it wasn’t what she was used to. However, it would be good to see her family again, and even though she did not spend as much time with her siblings as she used to, they were bonded together by the hardships and trials they had endured as children. She owed them a debt of gratitude for keeping her safe, for without them she would surely have perished a long time ago. It wasn’t as though she had skills for hunting or deft hands to slip bread, cheese, and fruit away from market stalls like her elder siblings. It wouldn’t be the same as it had been all those years ago, with Pascal cheering her up by telling silly stories, or Fleur braiding her hair and singing her songs, but it was still her birthday, and she still wished to be with her family.

She took the letter to Sister Cora and handed it to her. Sister Cora was looking well. Recently, she had suffered from an affliction that had brought her close to death and Amelie had been afraid that she would pass on to be with God. Thankfully, it seemed as though Sister Cora had more work yet to do on this mortal plane, and was going to be with them a while longer.

Amelie waited anxiously as Sister Cora read the letter.

“May gae?” she said, the words clotting on her tongue, struggling to burst free of her lips. Even when she did speak now it was still difficult to get the words out.

Sister Cora smiled widely and hugged her. “Amelie, ye hae been here long enough tae know that ye dinnae need tae ask permission. This is nae a prison,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Of course, ye can gae. Ye should enjoy the time with ye family. I will make up a hamper tae take with ye. I know it will be a humble gift for the Laird, but I want him tae know that we hae nae forgotten him and all he hae done for us over the years. Ye should enjoy yerself. It will dae ye good tae get away from this place for a while. There is a big world out there. It was made for young people like ye tae enjoy it,” she smiled broadly and squeezed Amelie’s arm. Amelie returned the expression, although it was thinner. The world was wide, yes, and it contained many dangers and many horrors. It was so vast that it was easy to become lost in it, so it was far safer to stay in one place with people who would protect her around. There was a dark shadow stabbing at the back of her mind, always threatening to return. It was the shame and the horror of the past, childhood trauma clinging to her no matter how many years passed, always threatening to ruin her mood.

“Thank ye,” Amelie mumbled and bowed her head. She turned away and packed her things, and soon enough she was waiting for the carriage to arrive. Pascal had assumed she would attend, and so had sent someone to fetch her.

Amelie rested in the carriage and tilted her head so that she could observe the world as it rolled by. The carriage trundled along the uneven path of the forest and she felt her teeth chatter and her bones jangle. The trees thinned as they passed, and they emerged from the shadows and traveled under the pale sunlight. She saw foxes scurrying by, bushy tails flicking like paintbrushes. In other areas, she saw the ears of rabbits pricking up, and then flopping as the rabbits hopped back to their warrens. She smiled as she fondled a wooden rabbit that Fleur’s husband, Lachlan, had carved for her a long time ago. It seemed like a lifetime. She and Pascal and Fleur had been driven from the clan by bullies and forced to hide in a cavern. Fleur had gone for help and ended up meeting the man she fell in love with. Lachlan was strong and tall with a good heart. He had protected them all. She thought of him as a shield, always there to buffet the onslaught of life.

The carriage rolled through various towns and she noticed people spending time together. There was an old couple sitting together, gazing out at the world. Their hands were laced together. There was a man and a woman squabbling playfully. He flicked water from a bucket at her. She squealed and then did the same thing back. They chased each other and then he caught her in his arms and kissed her. Amelie blushed and turned away. Love seemed to be everywhere. There were plenty of people who came to the nunnery and sought relief from the anguish caused by their emotions. Sometimes it seemed that love was a poison, infiltrating their minds and hearts and causing them such awful tension. But she also knew that love could bring relief to the most grievous wounds. Sister Cora always advised these poor souls that there was someone for everyone, they just needed to remain patient in order to find the one they loved. While Amelie had great respect for Sister Cora, she was not sure she believed Sister Cora’s words were fully true. Some people, she thought, would never have anyone love them.

After all, it was easy for someone like Fleur, with her flowing hair, dazzling smile, and forthright personality to draw the attention of a man like Lachlan. But Amelie wasn’t like her sister. Her hair was cut short now, her demeanor was demure, and where Fleur was like a bright, vivid flower bursting with color and nectar, Amelie was just a plain ordinary leaf, blending in with all the others, remaining unnoticed. And there was the other thing too. Her fingers tensed around the slate board she held on her lap. Who would want someone who found it difficult to talk? She was just an invalid. It would be easier for any man to love another.

Not that she had to worry about this, of course. She had never been comfortable or confident in the company of men, and the thought of falling in love, while alluring in its heady illusion, was quite out of the question.

Amelie was quite calm during the solitary journey and was even beginning to look forward to the event, but when the carriage approached the clan she began to feel tension pressing against her chest. Her breathing became ragged, and there was a dryness in her throat that she could not rid herself of no matter how many times she swallowed. People were milling about all across the land. There must have been hundreds and hundreds of them, all laughing and joking and talking with each other, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Amelie subconsciously shifted towards the middle of the seat, getting as far away from the noises as possible. She remembered being in crowds in Paris, always fearing that she would lose Fleur and Pascal. She remembered too when the laughter had been directed at her for being different. Already it was noisier than the nunnery. The cacophony spilled into her mind and she longed to be back in the peaceful nunnery where she could always hide herself away in her chambers, where nobody judged her for being different. Suddenly she wondered if she had made a mistake. She clutched her slate board in trembling hands and wondered if she should tell the driver to turn around and take her back to the nunnery. She was sure Pascal would understand. He could always come to the nunnery and they could celebrate their birthday there together, in peace. This celebration was more for him than her, anyway. It wasn’t as though the people of this clan wanted to wish her well. She was just a fleeting memory to them. She hadn’t fought to free this clan from the horrible rule of Angus Pressley and his son, Munro, like Pascal had. It was strange to think that her family name was Pressley. She still thought of herself as a Dubois, her father’s name. But she didn’t have strong ties to either name. It was as though she drifted into a void between them both, not belonging to either.

But then, as the thoughts crashed into her mind and invaded her peace, she looked out of the other window and noticed a horse in a frantic mood. It had somehow become tangled in some ropes and was quite distressed. It jerked its head about, snuffled heavily, and kept raising its feet as though it was cantering, but wasn’t getting anywhere. The more it struggled the more frenzied it became, and it only served to get it more entangled. Her heart went out to the horse. There was a handler with the animal. Amelie feared this man was going to whip the anger out of the horse in an effort to temper its mood, but instead, he approached gently and slowly reached out, placing his hands around the horse’s eyes. He whispered and pressed his forehead against the horse’s head, and the horse managed to calm down.

Watching this scene unfold helped Amelie to calm down as well, and she started to think that her stay might be peaceful after all.