Chapter One

The White Horse Pub in Donuun had an island bar, Jacobean-style ceiling, beautiful stained-glass windows, and etched mirrors. Despite its elegant décor and clientele of nobles, it was primarily a place for drinking, and most who came behaved with decorum, enjoying the ambiance and convivial conversation with friends. But some, like Alexander, Donald, and Roderick Somerled, sons of Angus Somerled, Lord High Sheriff of Argyllshire, regarded their station in life not one of seemliness but one of privilege. They drank too much, considered all others to be beneath them, and behaved with little restraint.

Duff Tavish MacCallister, a tall man with golden hair, wide shoulders, and muscular arms was sitting on a stool at the opposite end of the bar from the Somerleds. This wasn't by accident; there was a long-standing feud between the MacCallister and Somerled Clans, going back to the time of Robert the Bruce. And although the killing of each other had stopped a hundred years ago, their dislike of each other continued.

Ian McGregor, owner of the tavern, was wiping glasses behind the bar and he stepped over to speak to Duff. "Duff, m'lad, I was in the cemetery the other day and I saw marked on the tombstone of one of the graves, 'Here lies Geoffrey Somerled an honest man.' So this, I'll be askin' you. Think ye now that there may be two bodies lyin' in the same coffin—Geoffrey and an honest man?"

Duff MacCallister threw back his head and laughed out loud. He was wearing a kilt, and he slapped his bare knee in glee. McGregor's daughter, Skye, a buxom