Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

N ovember 1297. At sea near the shore of the Isle of Skye…

Any other bride would not plan her husband’s funeral before she’d even married the man.

And yet, as Lady Katherine de Beaumont stood at the bow of the birlinn, anchoring herself with a firm grip on the rope beside her as the boat rose and fell with the swell of the sea, that’s exactly what was going through her mind.

She sighed heavily, the exhaustion of the last week of travelling washing over her. On the freezing cold November day, there had already been snowfall, and pulling the heavy cloak tighter around her, she acknowledged that the bitter winter of Scotland was a far cry from the weather back home in England.

The rough seas were hardly helping, and though she tried to fight it, as the wind pulled at the tendrils of her chestnut hair, the dizziness and seasickness threatened to overcome her.

To distract herself, Katherine dug her hand into her cloak pocket and took out the little black book she always carried with her. Among many other things, it contained a list of daring sins, all the things she had sworn she would do before she was wed. There were still quite a few remaining.

Kiss a stranger. Spy on a gentleman bathing. Ride astride a horse. Get her skin marked with a tattoo. Swim without clothes and, finally, read a banned book.

As she gazed down at the page flapping madly in the wind, she shook her head.

And yet, I will never get to complete my list now, for in two weeks, I will be forced to marry the devil himself.

As someone approached her, she cursed under her breath, fearing they would see her list, and hurriedly, she stuffed the book back into her pocket and pulled out a small knife to make space.

“I have told you before,” Reginald growled, coming to stand close by her side. “Carrying a knife is anything but ladylike.”

Katherine’s brother, Lord Reginald De Beaumont, was a tall and imposing figure with a commanding presence. At thirty-four, he was eleven years Katherine’s senior, and unlike his sister’s soft refined features, with her high cheek bones and defined jawline, his face was thin and angular.

Nor did they share the same eye color, for while his were a pale blue, a color that she had always felt perfectly conveyed his cold, calculated and a ruthless nature, her eyes were a piercing green.

Katherine flashed him a scowling glance, noting the streaks of gray in his almost black hair. His perfectly manicured beard added to his stern appearance and authoritative figure.

“We are venturing into Scotland, dear brother,” she hissed. “Ladylike or not, I will keep it on my person for protection.”

Reginald jerked his head toward the stern of the boat. “You will need no protection with all the men I have ordered to come with you.”

Katherine glanced at the group of soldiers. They were loyal men, but she had no doubt they did as her brother’s bidding out of fear.

“Always remember who you are,” he growled. “You may well have been forced to marry one of these Scottish savages. It doesn’t mean you have to become one of them.”

“I wish I were back in England,” she sighed.

“As do I, sister. But your marriage has been decreed by King Edward the first himself. You do not have a choice.”

“Yes,” Katherine hissed. “I am aware of that. Perhaps, if our family were not of such high noble standing, the situation would be different.”

Reginald glared down at her. “Do not berate the de Beaumont name, Katherine. Father did not work so hard and gain such influence with the crown for you to denounce it with such dismissiveness.”

Katherine huffed in frustration. That was all well and good, but it was not her brother being forced to marry.

“You ought to be proud of your heritage. Our family is renowned for its military prowess and loyalty to the crown. No matter what you feel, we have a duty towards the king. This union will strengthen his grip on Scotland and create a loyalist faction within the Scottish clans.”

“You mean control the Scots,” Katherine replied knowingly. “The king talks of fostering peace, but everyone knows his real agenda. He looks to secure influence and control Scottish resistance to English rule.”

Again, Reginald glared down at her. “It is well that no other can hear your treasonous tongue,” he spat.

“It is not treasonous if it is true,” she argued.

Reginald’s condescendence angered Katherine, but then, so did most men. They were all so very proud of their accomplishments, each one thinking themselves smarter than their counterpart. Of course, in their mind, women knew little, and were stupid beings who were only good for light conversation and continuing the family line.

Not Katherine. Astute and intelligent, she heard and understood things men thought were above her comprehension. While the opposite sex foolishly believed that they were smarter, Katherine quietly garnered information, snippets of conversations heard from one place or another.

She knew the king’s game, and now, she had become a pawn. A piece he could use for his own ends, not caring a wit for her thoughts and feelings on the matter. She was, after all, just a woman to him. A noble woman, but just a woman all the same. It was not just the fact that she was being forced to marry that angered her, it was who he had decreed she ought to wed.

“There is land ahead,” Reginald announced. “The Isle of Skye. It will be your home, at least for a little while, Katherine, so you better tame your tongue and get used to it.”

“It isn’t like I have any other choice, is it?” she bit back.

“You know I will do my best to ruin the MacLeod family and free you from your marriage, but I can only do so if you give me the information I need.”

On their journey, Reginald had told her that she must view this circumstance as though it were a military mission. Indeed, she would be forced to marry her enemy, but while there, she had another assignment. She had to find the weaknesses and strengths of the clan before her wedding.

Katherine had argued that two weeks was not a lot of time for what her brother was asking, but he had been determined.

“It is the only way you can be free,” he had countered.

She would arrive as a bride-to-be while at the same time acting as a spy for her brother. She despised the idea. And yet, what she despised even more was being married to this man.

As the birlinn approached the shore, the sailors hollered to one another, each with a specific task to bring the boat to its mooring point safely. They ran from one end of the ship to the other, pulling at sails and gathering rope. It was clear, by their appearance, that they had been manning ships for many years, for all of them were weathered, with lined, craggy faces.

Eventually, the boat came up against the harbor wall, and with the vessel finally secured, a gang plank was hooked onto the side. Reginald took Katherine by the hand, and, walking in front of her, he carefully guided her onto the cobblestone.

Even now she was on dry land, she still felt the swaying of the sea. Clearly, her body had become accustomed to it, and she wondered how long the sensation would last.

Reginald turned toward the men that accompanied them and ordered them to hurry off and secure horses, telling them to return to a tavern located nearby.

When he turned back to Katherine, he said, “We’ll stay in this tavern tonight. You have another long journey tomorrow. Besides, we have arrived two days ahead of time, so there is hardly any rush.”

With rooms booked for themselves, while the soldiers had set up camp nearby, Katherine and Reginald settled at a table and ordered food. Katherine was surprised to realize that she was famished, but then remembered she hadn’t eaten since early that morning.

Still, she struggled not to screw up her nose at her surroundings. The place was grubby, cold, and full of local peasants. In England, she wouldn’t be seen dead in such a place.

When their meal arrived, Katherine could only glare down at it.

“What on earth is this?” she grimaced, staring at the bowl in front of her.

Reginald gave her a cold stare. “It is stew and fresh bread. You will have to get used to it. This is what they eat in Scotland.” He paused while giving her a long look. “You’re not in England now, sister. As awful as it might be, there are a few things you are going to have to get accustomed to, the food being one of them.”

Katherine sighed heavily, and picking up her spoon, she tentatively delved into the brown mess in front of her. Surprisingly, she found it to be rather tasty, and dismissing her initial judgement, she ate heartily while Reginald laid out his plan.

“Do not be fooled, sister. As barbaric as these people are, they are still clever, and their intelligence may surprise you. You will need to be cunning and vigilant in your efforts. What you are about to do is important, and we cannot afford any mistakes.”

Once again, Katherine had to bite down her frustration, for as usual, her brother spoke to her as though she were an imbecile.

“I’m not a fool, Reginald. I am well aware of the capabilities of the Scots. Clearly, this union would not be necessary if they were the cavemen our king tells us they are.”

“Katherine,” Reginald hissed.

She rolled her eyes, which angered him even more, but she hardly cared. It was not he who was being offered on a platter, was it? Besides, she had long stopped caring about her brother’s approval. What she was about to endure was bad enough. Nothing he could threaten her with could be any worse.

“I will not be accompanying you to the castle. If I am there, I cannot enact an attack against the MacLeod Clan. But fear not. I will not be far away.”

Katherine nodded. “How will I contact you to tell you what I have discovered?”

“Do not worry about that. I will send a messenger.”

“Perhaps, if I get the opportunity, I could do something there myself.”

“No!” Reginald barked.

He then looked about him as his outburst had caught the attention of a few punters sitting a few tables over.

Lowering his voice, he continued. “Stick to the plan. Find out what you can discover, and then report back to me. I hate the man as much as you do, but his death will not be helpful. Not yet, at any rate.”

After the meal, Katherine retired to her room. Not only was she exhausted from all the travelling they had already done, but she would have to rise before the sun tomorrow to continue her journey. There was still quite a way to go before she reached Dunvegan Castle. The place she would, in two weeks, be forced to call her home.

And yet, as tired as she was, sleep did not come easily. Her mind punished her with thoughts of what her future held. There were, of course, arranged marriages in England too, but it was usual, in those cases that the betrothed were introduced at some point before the ceremony.

Katherine, on the other hand, had no idea about the man she was about to marry. Well, she knew something about him. She knew he was a vicious Viking laird who took great pleasure in slaughtering Englishmen. His hatred of her kinsmen hardly filled her with confidence. What if he took a notion to rid himself of her at some point?

You must keep your knife on your person at all times. Even when you sleep.

Knowing how precarious and delicate the situation was between the warring countries, she had every intention of doing so. Once inside those castle walls, she would be on her own. There would be no army nearby to save her. Yes, she would have guards with her, but ten soldiers were hardly a match for an entire clan. Especially one as powerful as the MacLeods.

The following morning, at first light, Katherine readied herself for her journey and made her way downstairs. The men had secured horses, as Reginald had directed the day before, and she found her brother standing beside the only horse that didn’t have a rider, clearly waiting for her.

After helping her onto the beast, Reginald looked up at her. “Remember what I told you. Find out all that you can. We will get our revenge, sister.”

Katherine nodded, and after a brief and cold farewell, she and the group of soldiers that would accompany her, began their journey.

While she and Reginald were not in any way close, there was one thing uniting them. Probably the only thing, for they could both agree that they hated the man she was to marry. The king, in his wisdom, had decreed that she not just wed any Scottish nobleman, but Laird Domhnall MacLeod.

The same man who had slaughtered her father in battle.