Whence Came a Prince

Chapter One

Chapter One
The heart that is soonest awake to the flowers
Is always the first to be touch’d by the thorns.
Thomas Moore
Burnside Cottage
Whitsuntide 1790


I will never leave you.
Leana McBride sat up in bed, disoriented, grasping at the threads of her dream. She’d been sitting under the yew tree on the edge of Auchengray’s garden, cradling her infant son to her breast, brushing her fingers through his silky hair, singing softly as he nursed.
Baloo, baloo, my wee, wee thing.
Ian’s warm scent seemed to permeate the air of her aunt’s tiny cottage in Twyneholm. The recalled softness of his cheek felt more real than the linen nightgown beneath her fingertips, the memory of his small, hungry mouth more tangible than the rough sheets against her bare skin.
She gripped the edges of the bed as grief pierced her heart anew. Aunt Meg had insisted the pain would ease with time. Leana glanced over her shoulder at the older woman, still fast asleep. Her aunt meant well, but two months had not diminished the potent memories of her son that haunted her dreams and clouded her thoughts.
By the hour she’d contemplated going home ... read full excerpt from: Whence Came a Prince ebook