A vivid romance set in a time of war and upheaval - Scotland in 1034.
EXCERPT:
Finlay listened with half an ear as Ross and Gille talked about the day’s hunting, but his thoughts centred on Thorfinn. The energetic and impulsive fourteen-year-old he had known was now a man reputed for sea warfare and unlikely to make casual suggestions about anything to do with land, power or the proposed marriage of a half-sister.
Finlay listened with half an ear as Ross and Gille talked about the day’s hunting, but his thoughts centred on Thorfinn. The energetic and impulsive fourteen-year-old he had known was now a man reputed for sea warfare and unlikely to make casual suggestions about anything to do with land, power or the proposed marriage of a half-sister.
With his elbows on the
board behind him, he stretched his damp deer hide boots towards the fire. The mouth-watering
aroma of meat stew drifted to his nostrils from the large, sooty cauldron that
spun gently on the chain above the fire pit.
Gille fell silent, his
blue stare unwavering on someone or something behind Finlay. Ross stared in the
same direction. Finlay turned his head so fast his neck bones cracked and
gained a fleeting impression of a tall, willowy young woman with dark hair.
From her gown, posture and self-confidence, she could only be Ratagan,
Thorfinn’s half-sister.
He sat up straight.
“I thought you said she
was toothy?” Ross muttered.
There was no time to
reply. Greeting her half-brother, she then walked over to greet them. Dark hair
knotted high on the back of her head accentuated large eyes and a pointed chin,
and her perfect profile took Finlay’s breath away. He scrambled to his feet as
she greeted them one by one. “Have we met before, Gille?”
“I would have
remembered,” he said.
Her smile widened. “How
odd. I remember Ross and Finlay from visits to Inverness. All those long
speeches about honour. That was you, wasn’t it?” She arched her eyebrows at
Finlay, who said nothing because she had glided forward and laid her smooth
cheek against his jaw. The coldness of gold pressed against his fire-warmed
skin. Perfume lingered in the air when she stepped back. “I remember Hareth,
and Kilda, too,” she said. “How is Kilda?”
Either she was unaware
of the situation, or she baited him. He suspected the latter. Ross answered
swiftly. “Gille married her not a month since.”
Her speculative gaze
turned from Finlay to Gille. Whatever she thought, she said only “You must be
sad to separate so soon.”
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