PROLOGUE
“I can't bear saying goodbye.”
Ettie could barely get the words out around the lump in her throat. She was nineteen and for the first time in her life, she was going to be alone in a strange place. She ran a hand through her pale hair and tried to focus on something else.
“I know, dear,” her mother, Lady Lynette, said kindly. She stroked her daughter's cheek and then drew her into a fierce, rose-scented embrace. “But it may not be for long. Who knows?”
“I don't want to think about it.”
Lynette smiled, her green eyes creasing at the corners. “I know, dear. I don't want to, either.” Her voice cracked. “But you will be safe with Uncle Heath. And we will be safer away from this place.”
This place was their home – Elsmoor Castle. Right now, it was not a safe place for a man accused of treachery. Ettie knew her father was a good man. He had strong convictions, that was all. In addition, he had chosen sides unwisely in a recent feud. She understood the need for her parents to sail to France. She even understood why she could not go with them. Nevertheless, it didn't make it hurt any less.
“I know you're safer away,” Ettie said, forcing words round the growing lump in her throat. “It doesn't make it any easier.” Her mother drew her into her arms again.
“Well, it shall have to, my sweetheart.” She kissed her hair. “Uncle Heath is a difficult character, but I know you will manage well with him. No one could fail to love you, sweetling.”
Ettie felt a glow in her heart as her mother said that. “Thank you. Nor you either, Mother.”
Her mother, Ettie thought, was the most beautiful and sweetest woman in the whole world. The fact that people said they looked alike made her proud. Except, where her mother's face was long and solemn, she had a softer one, with a full mouth and slate-colored eyes instead of green. Now, those blue-gray eyes blinked furiously, trying to still her tears as her mother drew her into her arms one more time. The slow footsteps in the hallway outside hailed her father's arrival. She drew back as he appeared in the doorway behind Lady Lynette.
“My lady?” he asked. A tall, imposing figure with grave eyes and a serious face, Ettie felt her heart wrench with love for him, too. Must she leave both of them? It was too hard!
“Yes. I'm coming,” her mother said. She was crying too, now, blinking back tears that flowed from her big green eyes. “Wait a moment, Ewan.”
Lord Ewan Fraser, the baron of Elsmoor, stood in the doorway. Ettie saw his grim expression soften to a look of immense tenderness as he watched her and her mother.
“Goodbye, Father,” she said softly.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” he said, equally softly. He let his hand rest on her shoulder a moment, and then withdrew, turning away. Ettie was wise enough to understand it was not coldness, but a need to hide his tears.
“Well, then,” Lynette said, blinking rapidly. “We will go. Your uncle Heath has just arrived – I hear the servants opening the door downstairs. We will depart now. Fare well, daughter.”
“Fare well, Mama.”
“Farewell.” Her father's voice was gruff as they both turned in the doorway, heading down the stairs.
“Farewell.” Ettie whispered it as she heard their feet echo on the stairwell, raced to the window to watch them leave. She, too, could hear the scuffle and the scrape of the great doors on the flagstones as her uncle was admitted. She didn't want to know about it. All she had the strength for was to stay here at the long window and watch her parents roll away in the coach, heading toward the sea, and refuge.
And I will stay here. I wonder what the future holds?
Ettie knew her parents expected her to find a husband here. That was the main reason they had not taken her with them – they thought it unfair to reduce her prospects of finding a lord and home in Scotland. But why did they leave me with Uncle Heath?
Younger than her father by a few years, reclusive and almost-silent, Uncle Heath was hardly the place to start her search for a bridegroom. He probably doesn't know many people.
A returned Crusader, Uncle Heath was a bitter, silent man with a disciplined character. She could not imagine him smiling, never mind hosting balls. If Mama and Papa wanted me to meet eligible youths, they would have better left me here, or sent me to Edinburgh to stay with Mother's aunt. Even though her mother's aunt Mabel was considerably older than her uncle, she was more likely to have good connections than he.
At that moment, she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She looked up as a man appeared.
Tall, with a long, gaunt face and big brown eyes, the man was clearly handsome, though a little younger than her father. Ettie swallowed hard. Handsome he was, but he radiated at once a sort of sadness and a strict discipline. From his tightly-strapped boots to his close-cropped hair, this was a military man with no room for frivolity.
“Henriette?” he asked. He cleared his throat. His voice had a stiffness to it, as if rarely used. He looked at her wonderingly.
“Uncle?” She asked softly. “You are my Uncle Heath?”
“Yes, my niece.” He nodded gravely. “I'm here to take you to Grenleigh Castle, my home. If you'll follow me?”
“Yes, Uncle,” she said. Swallowing her tears, she took the hand that he offered her. His hand was warm and strong and holding it made her feel much more assured. She followed him out into the hallway.
Into an uncertain future in which she must find a husband, settle down and plan the rest of her life.