Chapter 1

Isobel Sinclair listened from between the walls behind her father’s solar. These long-forgotten secret passages had saved her on more than one occasion and taught her so much about ruling the clan. Today, however, the passage could only offer her a small space of time. The king had done what her father had so far failed to.

She was wed.

Having passed one and twenty she had started to hope that her father had given up and she would be left alone. Never being wed would have suited her just fine. There wasn’t a single thing in a marriage that she was wanting. Her mother had been miserable and most of the women of her clan didn’t seem to fair much better. A few seemed content enough, but it was so rare that she hadn’t wanted to try her luck. Certainly with not any of the men her father had wanted to give her to. It had never occurred to her that the king might take it upon himself to see the deed done by marrying her to a stranger.

She probably should have considered that the king would do something to ensure a smooth transition of power in case something happened to her father. Her plan had been to simply wait until he was bedridden or dead, then take what she could carry and disappear before the warriors started to battle for control. If she disappeared, whoever survived the fight could have the blasted place.

This castle hadn’t felt like home since her mother had died, and even before then she had not been actually wanting to stay, she just hadn’t known there were any other options. Only two things had kept her here this long. The first was that she felt obliged to continue helping any other lasses who wanted out. The second was so that her father would not be around to send anyone to track her down. It was easier to disappear if kin were not searching. Now she would be stuck here for life with her husband. A strange man from a clan she had only heard strange stories of.

Peering into the room through the tiny crack in the masonry of the fireplace didn’t give her a clear view, but it seemed she was wed to a tall, strong man with dark hair and broad shoulders. Just the sort she tried to avoid most. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though he might not be much older than her. At least she wasn’t wed to a man twice her age.

He seemed to be simply standing there with his arms crossed, waiting for something to happen. He seemed the quiet sort, or at least she had yet to hear him speak. She saw the maid shuffle in and curtsy before mumbling words that Izzy couldn’t quite make out.

“She’s missing again!” Her father’s words were slurred by drink already, though it was not even mid-day. She saw the young maid flinch away from him and knew the lass was expecting a beating, one that would likely end in her rape. Not now, but after the guests left he would see it done. If he couldn’t do it himself he would watch someone do it for him. Everyone knew. And as usual, there was nothing the maid or anyone else could do to prevent it. Except possibly get her father drunk enough to forget about it. That was getting easier and easier as he got older.

When the men started walking out of the room Izzy turned and hurried from her hiding place. If she were quick, she could have herself in the garden before her father got outside. Her father would still be furious. Would he hit her in front of one of the king’s emissaries and her new husband? Was that something he could do, or was her punishment now decided only by her husband? Following the dictate of two men might be the end of her.

She paused at the edge of the hidden entrance and peered around to see if anyone was about. Running her fingers nervously over her curls she collected cobwebs and wiped them off on the stone wall.

Would it be better to go inside and find herself a dress? Pretend she had been stitching? No. For one thing, her father would never believe it and tell everyone so very loudly. For another, it would be best if her future husband saw what he was getting from the outset. An unruly lass who dresses in men’s trews and keeps her unruly hair just barely below her shoulders. She may have been born to the Laird and his Lady, but she had no intentions of playing that part. She wore trews, swung a sword, and had better aim with her bow than most men. That’s what he was getting.

Mayhap her husband would claim her an unsuitable wife, as all the suitors her father had tried to force on her had done. Perhaps he could get the emissary to call the whole thing off!

And if not...she sighed and her shoulders sagged. If not, she would have to change. She would never be able to transform into a Lady fit to visit the palace, but she could manage a dress and longer hair. Perhaps she could learn to enjoy stitching. Tears burned her eyes as she slipped out from behind the bushes, brushing cobwebs from her clothing as she rushed to sit on the old stump where she’d left her stone. The little alcove was set back from the main trail, but since the bushes weren’t in full bloom yet she would still be visible to anyone who looked her way.

Focusing on the sound of birds singing and the soft scent of spring air, Izzy blinked back tears and tried to calm herself. She liked being outside. She enjoyed hunting with her falcons, fishing from the banks, and roaming the woods. Having to give all that up to please a man who would be doing all those things while she sat cooped up in the keep was most unfair. She swiped away a couple of tears that had made it to her lashes and settled herself down as she heard the men approaching. She rubbed the stone fast to heat it, hoping that if any thought to check it would appear she had been tucked away here sharpening her arrows all along and the maid had simply not seen her.