"May ye grow old with goodness and with riches," Duncan said, giving them another of the usual blessings.

When it was Alex's turn, he said to Ian, "Ye saved yourself a lot of trouble by marrying a MacDonald. As they say, Marry a la.s.s and ye marry her whole clan.' "

"I'm glad ye mentioned that," Connor said, resting his hand on Alex's shoulder. "That is precisely the reason I need ye to marry a woman from another clan. I'll be calling on ye soon to do your duty."

"Not me," Alex said, putting his hands up and taking a step back. "I live by the saying, The smart fellow's share is on every dish.' "

They all pretended not to hear Alex's parents, who had gone off to the far end of the bailey yard to shout at each other.

They had the feast in the yard, too, since the guardhouse was too small for all the guests. Though it was chilly, it wasn't raining, and the food the women brought was tasty and plentiful. They warmed up afterward with music and dancing. All the men kissed Sileas, giving her pennies, until Ian put a stop to that particular tradition.

"Let's get the priest," he whispered in her ear.

They found Father Brian and sneaked away without anyone noticing-or at least they pretended not to notice. When they reached the makeshift bedchamber Ian had set up for them on the upper floor of the gatehouse, he carried her over the threshold.

He set her down, and they waited while Father Brian sprinkled the bed with holy water.

"Do your part," he said to Ian with a wink, "and ye will have many fine children."

As soon as Ian closed the door behind the priest, Sileas burst out laughing. "I already put the fertility charm Tearlag gave me under the bed."

Ian pulled her into his arms. "We'll have to do our best not to waste so much luck."

EPILOGUE.

NINE MONTHS LATER.

Fear was an unnatural state for Ian.

His mother came downstairs periodically to report that his wife was well and all was proceeding as expected. Despite her rea.s.surances, an unfamiliar sensation of panic flooded through his limbs every time he heard his mother's step on the stairs.

"Sit down, Ian, before ye wear out your new floor," Alex said.

Why had he got Sileas with child? What was he thinking? It wasn't of children, that was for certain. But G.o.d help him, her mother had died in childbirth.

"She is a strong la.s.s," his father said. The sympathy in his eyes showed that he understood in a way the others, who had no wives, could not.

Sileas screamed again, and his heart stopped in his chest.

" 'Tis only when they're too weak to scream that ye have cause to fret," his father said.

His father could be lying to him, but the strength of Sileas's voice was rea.s.suring.

"I think I hear her cursing," Duncan said, looking nearly as worried as Ian. "That's a good sign, aye?"

"How long does this take, da?" Ian ran his hands through his hair as he paced. "I shouldn't have brought her back here to Knock Castle. What if it's bad luck?"

"First ye had Father Brian bless every nook and corner," Alex said. "Then ye kept poor old Tearlag here for three days making silly spells for protection."

"That was to comfort Sileas," Ian said-and ignored the snorts from the others.

"If the two of ye have been unhappy here," Connor said, "you've done a good job of fooling everyone."

They'd been too happy. Ian feared they'd made the faeries jealous.

"Ian," his mother said from doorway. "Ye can come up now."

She stepped aside to let him run by her, and he took the stairs three at a time. When he entered their bedchamber, Sileas was propped up on pillows, flanked by Ilysa and Dina.

His wife looked tired but radiant. Praise G.o.d! He never wanted to go through this again.

Ilysa moved aside so he could take her place next to the bed. "We'll leave ye alone," she said. "Just call if ye need me."

"I'll say good-bye, because Grdan will be coming to fetch me soon." Dina patted her own expanding belly and gave them a broad wink. "He's a very... attentive... husband."

When Ian asked Grdan to watch over Dina, he never suspected he was fostering a lasting union. It appeared to be a love match as well. Having a steady man like Grdan had settled Dina, and Dina added a spark to Grdan. The shouting matches between Dina and Grdan's mother, however, were the stuff of legends.

When the door closed behind the two women, Ian brushed his fingers against Sileas's cheek. "Are ye all right, a chuisle mo chroi?"

"I am," she said.

"Ach, ye sounded as if ye were being tortured."

"I was," she said, but when she smiled up at him, Ian's heart did a turn in his chest. Sileas had an inner glow that made her unbearably beautiful.

"Ye haven't looked yet," she said.

The blanket over the bundle in her arm shielded the babe's face from him.

"What is it?" he asked. "A boy or a girl?"

He hoped for a boy, only because the thought of having a girl frightened him half to death. What if she was a bairn like her mother, falling into trouble at every opportunity? He'd be an old man before his time.

"Take your daughter," Sileas said.

When he lifted the bundle from her arm, the babe weighed nothing at all.

"She is a wee tiny thing, isn't she?" He pushed the blanket back to see her face-and his daughter held his heartstrings from that moment. "Ah, but she is a beauty! She's going to have lovely orange hair, just like you."

"My hair is not orange."

It was, but he didn't argue.

"Do ye want to see the other one now?" she asked.

"What? There's more?"

"Just one more. Another girl."

He hadn't noticed the bundle in his wife's other arm until now. She lifted it up and rested it in the crook of his arm.

"This one has orange hair, too," Ian said as he looked at his second lovely daughter. He grinned at his wife. "There're going to be trouble, aren't they?"

"More than likely," she said, sounding quite complacent about it. "You're going to be a wonderful da."

Sileas always had such faith in him.

"What shall we name them?" he asked.

"I'd like to name one Beitris, after your mother," Sileas said. "What about Alexandra for the other, after Alex?"

"Fine," he said, smiling down at his wee girls. "Duncan and Connor are not good names for a la.s.s."

"We should have sons after this," she said. "We'll need at least four."

"Four sons? Why do we need any sons at all?" Overjoyed as he was with their two babes, he wasn't anxious to risk his wife's life again.

"So we can name them after Connor, Duncan, Payton, and Niall, of course." She touched his arm. "After being an only child, I want a houseful of children."

He nodded, hoping it would be easier next time, but expecting it wouldn't. "If we do two at a time, it won't take long."

He heard a tinkle of laugher and looked up to see what looked very much like a woman in a pale green gown floating above the bed.

"It's the Green Lady-she's come back," Sileas said, sounding pleased at finding a ghost in their bedchamber. "I've never seen her smile before."

Ian decided he could live with a smiling ghost if it made his wife happy.

As he leaned down with his babes in his arms to give his beloved Sileas a kiss, he could have sworn that the Green Lady winked at him.

HISTORICAL NOTE.

Last summer, I was lucky enough to take a trip to Scotland. One memorable afternoon, I drove across the Sleat Peninsula of Skye, from the ruins of Knock Castle to the ruins of Dunscaith Castle, on a one-lane road that had more sheep than cars. Seeing the castles I was writing about was an amazing experience, and the island is breathtakingly beautiful. The landscape hasn't changed much over the centuries, so I found it easy to imagine my heroes traipsing over the hills or sailing the sh.o.r.es.

Researching clan histories of five hundred years ago proved far more challenging. Not much was recorded in a written record at the time. While there is a rich tradition of oral histories, clans often have different versions of the same long-ago events. And clan alliances, including marriages between chieftains' families, were made and broken with a frequency that is hard to follow.

The MacDonalds of Sleat are a prime example of the complex family relationships. Hugh (Uisdean), the first MacDonald of Sleat and the grandfather of my fictional character Connor, had six sons by six different women, all from prominent families. If I have this right, Hugh, one of his sons, and one of his grandsons all married daughters of Torquil MacLeod of Lewis-and another of Hugh's sons married Torquil's former wife.

As is often the case, Hugh's proliferate ways did not lead to family harmony. Hugh's first son hated his half brothers so much that upon his death he turned the clan's lands over to the Crown to keep the others from inheriting them. The lack of legal t.i.tle to their lands caused later chieftains problems for years. Two of Hugh's other sons were murdered by their brothers, and another was murdered by Hugh's grandsons.

In this series, I've kept the family animosity, but changed the details and timing of these events. I've also changed the name of one of Hugh's sons from Archibald to Hugh. A number of other secondary characters in The Guardian are real historical figures, including s.h.a.ggy Maclean and Archibald Douglas. I embellished freely upon what I knew of their personalities.

For ease of reading, I used anglicized versions of Gaelic names for some of my fictional characters. For the same reason, I did not follow the practice of calling a person by different names when he was with his mother's clan, his father's clan, or somewhere else.

Finally, I confess that I shortened travel times to suit the needs of my story and that Knock Castle was still known as Castle Camus, or Caisteal Chamuis, in 1513. I did not, however, make up the legend of the Green Lady of Knock Castle.

Look for the second book of this sizzling series featuring the fearless Highlanders!

Please turn this page for a preview of THE SINNER.

Available in November 2011.

CHAPTER 1.

BARRA ISLAND,.

Scottish Highlands SPRING 1515.

"Can ye hurry with your st.i.tching?" Glynis asked, as she peered out her window. "Their boat is nearly at the sea gate."

"Your father is going to murder ye for this." Old Molly's face was grim, but her needle flew along the seam. "Now stand straight."

"Better dead than wed again," Glynis muttered under her breath.

"This trick will work but once, if it works at all." Old Molly paused to tie a knot and rethread the needle. " 'Tis a losing game you're playing, la.s.s."

Glynis crossed her arms. "I won't let him marry me off again."

"Your da is just as stubborn as you, and he's the chieftain." Old Molly looked up from her sewing to fix her filmy eyes on Glynis. "Not all men are as blackhearted as your first husband."

"Perhaps not," Glynis said, though she was far from convinced. "But the MacDonalds of Sleat are known philanderers. I swear on my grandmother's grave, I'll no take one of them."

"Beware of what ye swear, la.s.s," Old Molly said. "I knew your grandmother well, and I'd hate for ye to cause that good woman to turn in her grave."

"Ouch!" Glynis yelped when a loud banging caused Old Molly to stick her needle in Glynis's side.

"Get yourself down to the hall, Glynis," her father shouted from the other side of the door. "Our guests are arriving."

"I'm almost ready, da," she called out.

"Don't think ye can fool me with a sweet voice," he said. "What are ye doing in there?"

Glynis risked opening the door a crack and stuck her face in it. Her father, a big, barrel-chested man, was looking as foul-tempered as his reputation.

"Ye said I should dress so these d.a.m.ned MacDonalds won't soon forget me," she said. "That takes a woman time, da."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but he let that pa.s.s. After all these years of living with a wife and daughters, females were still largely a mystery to him. In this war with her father, Glynis was willing to use whatever small advantage she had.