The Secret of Skye Isle
Page 1
Table of Contents
THE SECRET OF SKYE ISLE
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
THE SECRET OF SKYE ISLE
Book III of The Ladies Of Lore Series
MARISA DILLON
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
THE SECRET OF SKYE ISLE
Copyright©2019
MARISA DILLON
Cover Design by Anna Lena-Spies
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-983-5
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
To my family
for their never-ending support.
Acknowledgments
The author thanks:
The best modern day Highlander ever, Steve Cairns, whose knowledge of the Highlands and the Isle of Skye was invaluable to writing this story.
The professionals: Publisher Debby Gilbert; Editor Tamara Hughes; authors Terri Valentine, Violetta Rand and Karin Shah, who lighted the path to publication.
My family: sons Jamie and Zach, who are my best creations and who support me in so many ways; my parents Alf and Celia Hansen, who took me all over the world as a young girl, influencing my storytelling today; my brother Eric, writer and author; my supportive sister Carina; my aunt Linda, the ultimate beta reader; and my husband, Jim, the best surrogate critique partner ever.
My friends and neighbors, particularly Rich and Robbie Schultze, who endured a seven-hour drive across Scotland to the Isle of Skye on a tight itinerary, and over the course of four days, stops at twelve castles. Robin Michaels, who provides the best promotional support; Melissa Johnson, whose counsel is invaluable; Cairo Mama, who is the best dance sister ever; and my advisor Jeff Bruce, whose guidance is essential.
Without all of their support, this book would not exist.
Chapter 1
Aberdeenshire, Scotland
1487
The great hall at Fyvie Castle had been cleared of the cursory royal courtesans, and those who remained were bound by blood or oath. Tossing a handful of gold coins in the middle of the rough trestle table reminded Ethan his good luck was never random and the quest for power ever present.
Surrounded by Luttrells and with high stakes on the line, he reached into the deerskin pouch next to his dagger and found the cool, smooth square stones that had secured his fate the last time he’d rolled them.
“We should have booted your arse out, but gaming is better sport,” Ethan’s twin brother Lachlan claimed, shoving his coins to the table’s center.
Eyeing the group, their half-brother James reached for a pair of dice. When he rolled, the white squares bounced and clattered on the naked table.
“A pair of fives. Now I’m at thirty,” James shouted, slapping his knee hard and laughing like a thief. “Beat that,” James challenged Ethan with a sharp nod of his chin.
When the bowl was passed his way, Ethan reached in just as eagerly for a pair of dice, but instead of letting them fly, he elbowed his tankard. As it crashed to the wooden planks, Ethan’s dice went with it.
“Cut him off,” Lachlan shouted. “Drunken gambling will not be tolerated by the chieftain of this clan.”
The others laughed with Lachlan, and that was when Ethan made his move and swapped the dice.
Rising up from retrieving his tankard, Ethan stared back at his well-groomed twin, his brother Lachlan’s chiseled features resembling his own. He grinned before he claimed, “’Tis not the ale that got the best of me.” Then his gaze met the player sitting across from him.
The fourth player stayed silent. Ursula’s dark, brooding eyes studied Ethan as if his game was already up. He didn’t blink but stared right back at the raven-haired beauty as he held the dice high over the table’s midsection until he let them spill from the tips of his fingers. Bouncing between the gold coins, the dice tumbled toward Ethan.
“A pair of sixes,” James called out. “You have thirty-one!”
“Aye, thirty-one, beating James by a point,” Lachlan said stoically.
James appeared to accept the loss, even though it was the third time Ethan had taken the winnings that evening, but the first time he’d resorted to using his personal dice.
The amount of gold coins shoved into Ethan’s corner by the other players amounted to a reasonable fortune, and the stakes on this last round had doubled from the previous one.
Satisfied with his winnings, Ethan eased his chair from the trestle table. But when Lachlan clasped a strong hand on his wrist, the gold coins he held tumbled back onto the table.
“One more round, brother. All or nothing,” Lachlan urged.
“I have all I need,” Ethan said calmly, turning to meet his twin’s steady scrutiny. Lachlan hated losing.
“You have all I need,” Lachlan replied back.
“Then let’s raise the stakes,” Ethan challenged his twin. “Gold satisfies greed, but land guarantees power.”
“Too rich for my blood,” James responded, folding his thick warrior arms over his chest in resignation. “England’s King Henry pays the Garter knights a fair wage,” James added,
“but not enough for me to gamble this much.”
When Ethan glanced to Ursula, she pushed away the dice and shook her head.
“Let it be known Eilean Donan Castle is on the table,” Lachlan said, taking a dragon tail ring from his right hand and placing it in the center of the trestle table.
Ethan scoffed. “Eilean Donan is property of Clan MacKenzie, not the Luttrells of England.” At this point Ethan began to rise from the table, prepared to walk away with his winnings.
“Do not forget, brother, our mother was Colleen MacKenzie,” Lachlan stated plainly.
Ethan sat back in his chair at the mention of their mother.
“When you poisoned her, did you kill your memories, too?”
Lachlan made the dig as he always did. It was true Ethan had poisoned their mother, but it had been an accident. And no matter how many times he argued the circumstances of her death, Lachlan never relented.
“You suggest if I accept your bid, I wager my only land holding?” Ethan asked, ignoring Lachlan’s insinuation and finally rising to his feet.
“Nay, Lachlan,” James chimed in, “Dunster Castle in Somerset is Ethan’s only property. ’Tis a lopsided contest,” defended James, who on all accounts was the noblest knight he’d ever met. Whenever there were disagreements between Ethan and his identical twin brother, his Garter knight half-brother would demand fairness.
“If it is justice we seek, Ethan should return all of our gold,” Lachlan charged.
“He switched the dice when he knocked his chalice to the floor,” Ursula said, breaking her long silence.
Now it was Ethan’s turn to glare. “Witch,” he said under his breath.
Lachlan snatched Ethan’s dice from the table and examined them. When James grunted, Lachlan handed them to the Garter knight who turned them over in his hands, scrutinizing them more closely. The dice were dwarfed by James’s enormous palms.
“God’s teeth, Ethan, why would you cheat?” James asked, weighing the ivory nuggets individually in each hand.
Ethan wasn’t sure either of them could find anything wrong with the dice by studying them.
“Roll them,” Ursula ordered as if she was waiting to be vindicated.
“Witch,” Ethan said again, louder. This time both brothers’ heads swung his direction. Shrugging his shoulders was his only defense. Ethan wasn’t going to deny the dice had been switched. He just wasn’t going to admit they were modified.
James appeared perturbed by the order, but they’d all been in Ursula’s company over the last few months and had learned the woman had unusual powers.
As the knight pondered the square ivory pieces, a smile finally softened his stern frown. Instead of dropping them on the table as Ethan expected, he tossed them in his goblet of wine.
James turned his attention to Ethan. “You must know at King Henry’s court the punishment for cheating in gaming is a nail through the palm.”
Ursula gasped. When Ethan shot her a glance, her eyes lowered. He hoped she felt remorse for speaking against him, but she refused to meet his probing glare.
James chuckled. “’Tis lucky, Lord Ethan, you are not in King Henry’s court. As his loyal agent, however, I cannot ignore the offense, but I may forget this friendly game if you return the gold to the rightful owners and thus free me of any guilt.”
Ethan studied his elder half-brother, who neither resembled any of the Luttrells nor acted like them. His enviable mane of golden hair did not minimize his might. Punctuated by well-defined muscles, James was formidable even as an ally. His steel-blue gaze could all but slice through skin.
Relieved the Garter knight had stopped the inquisition, Ethan lowered his head, and instead of defending himself as was his style, he began to count the gold back to James first, then Ursula, who still refused to meet his gaze.
After he’d given his brother Lachlan the remaining coins, his twin rested a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and said, “Now that we’ve agreed this evening was just for entertainment, and James has spared hauling your arse to a royal court, there’s still the matter of the final bet.”
Ethan considered what was at stake. Although his luck would not be guaranteed, he could never resist a bet when his twin offered. It had been that way as long as he could remember.
“Fyvie for you, and Dunster for me?” Ethan hoped.
“Nay, Fyvie belongs to my wife, Rosalyn. I cannot barter what’s not mine,” Lachlan replied.
Ethan burst out laughing. “You are the clan leader, but you give your wife the land rights?”
“That was our deal,” Lachlan defended. “I took her name and her heart, and we rule together. Fyvie belongs to her, and we’d settled that months ago.”
“You cannot be a leader and a follower at the same time, Lachlan,” he said, egging him on.
His twin refused to be baited, and he shoved Ethan’s shoulder, thrusting him back into his chair. As soon as Lachlan started around the table, Ursula vacated her seat and stood next to James as if she needed protection from what could come.
Once Lachlan was settled across from Ethan, he reached into the bowl for a fresh pair of dice, then handed the bowl to James. Instead of passing the bowl to Ethan, James selected two dice and gave them to Ethan.
His cheeks heated, but Ethan said nothing.
Lachlan picked up the ring again and set it back on the table. “Eilean Donan Castle.”
Ethan had a matching dragon tail ring. He tugged on it until it slid over his rough knuckle. “Dunster Castle,” he stated evenly, then he placed the gift from his father next to his twin’s ring. When James began to object, Ethan held his hand up and stood his ground.
Ethan rolled first and scored a twelve.
Lachlan did the same.
On the next turn, Ethan rolled two fives.
His twin scored on snake eyes.
The tally was now Ethan twenty-two, Lachlan fourteen.
With only two in rotation, this game for thrones would be over quickly and their fates settled without bloodshed. Rarely were castles exchanged without lifting lance or sword, even within families.
Although Lachlan had forsaken the name, they were still the notorious Luttrells of England. The most flagrant had been his father Nicholas, who had pitted the boys against each other as lads. Even though he was gone, his father’s antics had been the catalyst for their competitive spirits today.
No doubt his father was watching over the competition. It wouldn’t matter if his seat was in heaven or hell, Ethan was certain Nicholas would approve.
Ethan eyed his twin.
Lachlan glared back.
Ethan kept his game face on when his next roll delivered eight points and his score totaled thirty. He hadn’t won yet but would have to hold at thirty until Lachlan caught up, beat him at thirty-one, or went over.
Ethan gave a sideways glance to the spectators, finding both Ursula and James leaning over the table for a better look at the dice as Lachlan took two more turns. On the last, when the dice fell, Ethan squeezed his eyes shut.
“He’s at twenty-six,” James shouted.
“Ethan, let’s sweeten the deal.” Lachlan offered, clipping James’s enthusiasm.
Ethan waited with his eyes still shut, letting Lachlan know he was at least willing to hear his proposition.
Lachlan cleared his throat. “Because we are family, and forfeiting a castle is a bigger loss than most, I propose the loser receives an order of favor from the other.”
Ethan choked on a laugh when he finally opened his eyes. “You did not learn from the challenge at Berwick Castle?” Months ago, Ethan had accepted a wager where each pledged to do the other’s bidding. Ethan had lost, and in a way, so had Lachlan, for Ethan never honored the promise.
He glanced at Ursula. Their history w
as filled with lost opportunity and broken vows. She no doubt remembered the failed promise as well, for it had unraveled after Ethan had pretended to be Lachlan. Posing as his brother had been a brilliant form of deception, allowing Ethan access to people and property he’d normally been denied.
Ursula was either avoiding his probing glance or fixated on the outcome. He’d bet on the former as his attention went back to the game.
When Lachlan took his final turn, his dice bounced on the table, the sound resonating throughout the great hall as if all activity in the castle had ceased, waiting for that final roll.
James spoke first. “Well, I wouldn’t have expected that.”
Chapter 2
“Castle Fyvie is still in your possession,” Ursula declared as she swept into the bedchamber to visit her charge later that afternoon.
“Why would it nae be?” Rosalyn blinked rapidly.
“Your husband gambled away one of his family holdings—Eilean Donan Castle in Kyle of Lochalsh.”
Rosalyn hooted. “That old place?” the lady of Castle Fyvie asked as she attempted to get up from her seat by the fire. “Clan MacKenzie’s castle? Near the Isle of Skye?”
By the time her sister of the heart had asked the second question, Ursula was by her side. “Now, donnae be attempting to rise from your chair like you did before you were carrying twins,” Ursula scolded, taking up a sturdy stool next to her friend.
Rosalyn absentmindedly put both hands on her bulging belly and rubbed it lovingly. “Aye,”—she nodded—“but my mind and my mouth still work without your help.”
That made Ursula grin. She reached over and rubbed Rosalyn’s belly, too. “And I’m sure you will want to save that piece of your mind for Lachlan and not waste it on your midwife.”
Rosalyn chuckled. “I shall save the tongue-lashing for Lachlan, because he enjoys it,” she said as she turned her head and stared into the flames. “Yet this castle that he’s gambled away”—she paused, ruminating on the news, then began again—“’tis odd he even considers the ownership. ’Twas in his mother’s family. She was a MacKenzie.”