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!"

The only thing that can save the clan.

"Och, where have I heard this before?" Lissie rolled her eyes.

The entire room was looking at her, but she did not care anymore. Her blue eyes connected with an elder, taking notes. She glared for all she was worth, but the look he sent still unnerved her.

"The fact is, there is always some collieshangie1 or other facing the clan; the bad harvest, the dreaded sweat, Billie invading the Lowlands. But somehow we muddle on."

"Lissie," said Fiona. Her eyes briefly connected with her sister, Grace. "This is different. The coffers are bare. The battle between the clans has emptied us, an" now we face ruin an" starvation. There is one way out..."

A rumble went around the room as the shadows lengthened in the deepening night. Outside, snow lashed the small window, bringing a cruel draft.

"Marriage wi" the McKinley clan," cut in Grace. All eyes diverted to her. Nearing her thirtieth year, she was every bit as alluring as she had been at nineteen. Only now, a line or two crept in, defining her eyes, but the candlelight smoothed the years away.

"Och!" began Lissie, clamping her lip.

But Grace continued.

"Nay, listen, pray, Lissie," Grace continued. With the nodding of the elders, she pressed on, as Lissie was forced to hear. "Ye dinnae ken. We have been assured o" a good settlement by Laird McKinley."

Lissie felt her guts wrench. McKinley was the neighboring laird. He was eccentric, to say the least, but unfortunately for her, he was also the richest baron for miles around.

"Ye cannae!" she cried, before turning, imploringly, to Fiona, then to McTavish or anyone who was listening. "Auld man McKinley? He"s about two thousand years auld!"

"Lissie," said Fiona pertinently. "Ye"re nae listening."

But Lissie was too distressed to hear her. "How could ye use me as a thing to be sold off to some gnarled auld thing, like a prize? Well, I will nae do it! McKinley is auld enough to be my own grandad!"

Lissie"s pale eyes flared as she struggled to make her point. The heat in the hall was oppressive, and suddenly, Lissie felt all the heads swell around.

Then, she stopped. Every eye was on her, none more so than the curmudgeon row of men in front of her. In hindsight, perhaps she should not have mentioned McKinley"s age in front of the elders.

"Lissie!" hissed Fiona. She flicked her long, dark-colored locks away in exasperation. "Och, of course, I dinnae expect ye to wed someone as auld as Laird McKinley," she said.

For just a minute, Lissie felt her heart relax. Then, she looked at Fiona. Her eyes were still trained on her. Before she could say another thing, Grace jumped in.

""Tis his son, Donald, to whom ye are betrothed, ye big dafty."

Lissie nearly fell over.

"Donald?" she almost screamed.

This was worse.

Way worse.

For a minute, she almost negotiated marriage to old man McKinley. That was how bad Donald McKinley was.

Panicked, she stared at Fiona, tears starting in her eyes. "Betrothed? Ye cannae be serious."

Lissie was in flat-out disbelief. Donald McKinley was especially peculiar. Tall and gangly, his appearance was not much helped by the addition of a single gnarled tooth hanging in the center of his mouth.

Had this been all, Lissie might have relented. After all, looks were not everything.

But he was strange; at thirty-five, he had never had a sweetheart, let alone a betrothal—and for good reason. He collected things that made women scream, like the assortment of dogs" heads spread all around the McKinley castle.

Lissie had a cold moment of horror as she imagined kissing him.

Clearing her throat, Fiona carried on.

"Lissie, for the good o" the clan, ye must marry this man, else..."

"It"s the only way to retain the family gold," reminded Grace. "And avert famine and war!"

Marching into the center of the chamber, Lissie shook her head.

"Nay," she said, point-blank. "I will nae wed Donald."

There was a moment as this sunk in. Finally, Lissie relented.

"I have another way," she said valiantly. "I will find another man an" bring greatness to the clan."

Fiona looked at Grace, Grace at Aileen, and then at McTavish, who stared.

"Another man?" he said, his jaw dropping. All around, they looked at her like she was mad.

"Nae just any man," said Lissie, her eyes twinkling. She was beginning to enjoy their fear. "A lord. I shall wed a lord an" bring him to our sweet homeland."

There was silence. Then Fiona laughed out loud. They all did. For several straight minutes, laughter rocked the Duncan hall.

Lissie"s collar prickled up.

"Where on Earth will ye find such a credulous fool?" said her sister, snapping. Fiona"s patience was wearing thin.

But so was Lissie"s. She met the flash in Fiona"s eyes and returned it, double.

Then, she smiled. "Why, in London, dear sister, where else?"