LITMIR.BIZ

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      This book is dedicated to my travel companions, Sue-Ellen Welfonder and Lisa Trumbauer, who said, on that fateful day in May 2002 as we drove down the western coast of Scotland, ‘Turn here and check out this castle—it’s called Dunstaffnage and Robert the Bruce took it from the MacDougalls.’

      Thank you for being a part of my magical first trip to the Scottish Highlands and for introducing me to the special place that would inspire this story. Slainte!

      I would also like to dedicate this book to my former agent, Linda Kruger of the Fogelman Agency. She retired from the business in February 2005 to tend to her family and, although I am not happy for me as I write this, I am very happy for her and those important people in her life.

      Linda—thanks for your support through seven and a half years and twelve books!

       Prologue

       The 11th day of August

       In the Year of Our Lord, 1308

      The stench of blood and sweat and death permeated the air around the field. The victory here had assured Scotland’s embattled king that he would gain the foothold he needed in the west, and break the power of some of the more dangerous “lords of the isles.” Thinking to ambush his troops as they made their way toward the coast, the MacDougalls had underestimated his abilities and those of his supporters.

      As he stood before the man who had handed him victory at the battle of Brander Pass that morning, the Bruce was covered in not a little blood. Robert smiled grimly.

      “You have your orders, Sebastien. Carry them out. Those who will accompany you to Dunstaffnage know their duties and will support anything you do there in my name.”

      His most trusted warrior and spy simply nodded as he always did, and turned to leave. Sebastien of Cleish had presented him with their enemy’s ambush plans and a clever strategy in response to it.

      “Wed or dead by nightfall, Sebastien, and I’ll be wanting proof of either one.”

      “Aye, sire. Wed or dead.” The warrior bowed to him and was already on his way out of the tent when he spoke the words.

      Robert took a deep breath before calling his squire to help him undress. Dunstaffnage Castle, the MacDougall’s lands and his eldest daughter, the Maid of Lorne, would be within his grasp before the sun set this evening.

       Chapter One

      She’d closed the gates against him.

      In spite of the messenger sent with the news of the Bruce’s victory over her father, she refused him entrance into Dunstaffnage Castle. Sebastien was definitely leaning toward the “dead” portion of his orders from the king as he sat outside the main gate. Letting out an exasperated breath, he motioned to one of the men surrounding the three sides of the castle facing the land, and nodded.

      Peering up to the battlements, he could see the eldest daughter of John MacDougall watching his every move. He pushed the helm and mail off his head and waited for their weapon to be brought forward. His horse danced beneath him, probably feeling the strain of the battle of wills going on around it. Sebastien was certainly feeling it. With the glare of the sun behind her, he could not quite get a clear look at his adversary.

      Hearing the noises behind him, he moved over a few paces so that their hostages were clearly visible to all watching from the upper levels of the castle. The commotion behind him increased and he watched as Lara MacDougall drew nearer to the edge of the crenellated wall and looked over. She grabbed hold of the stone as though she needed support.

      If he’d been the one watching his younger siblings wrapped in chains and dragged by the heavily armed warriors of their deadliest enemy, he might react badly, too. The young boy and girl were also screeching loud enough to be heard by anyone within miles.

      His

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