Chapter One
Port Saoithe, Moray Firth, Scotland, June 1621
Chief Cyrus MacKenzie, the newly titled Earl of Stornmor, had looked forward to this day for years. 'Twas the day he would meet the ideal young lady to become his bride—the daughter of a powerful marquess.
Cyrus's sister, Isobel, and her husband, Dirk MacKay, the Clan MacKay chief, sat across the table from him in the Harbour Inn's public room as they broke their fast.
"Mayhap you will fall in love with Rebbie's sister." Isobel beamed a smile brighter than the morning sun streaming in the window behind her.
At her silly words, Cyrus scowled, but she was too busy feeding a bite of porridge to her fifteen-month-old son to notice.
Cyrus grunted. "'Tis unlikely. But from what I've been told, Lady Lily will be the perfect wife for me. Her father's a marquess and her brother an earl." Cyrus chewed the last bite of bacon, then took a swig of ale. Within the hour, they would head south, toward Castle Rebbinglen for a Midsummer gathering.
Isobel grinned and glanced at Dirk, sitting beside her. "Tell him how wonderful marriage can be when you love your spouse."
"Aye, 'tis true. I'm a lucky man." Dirk gazed with great affection at his wife and their ginger-haired son, Griff, a wee replica of him.
Dirk and Isobel's romance was sickeningly sweet, but Cyrus was glad his sister had finally found a man to her liking who treated her like a queen.
As for Cyrus, he was far more practical. "My sister kens naught about me."
Dirk chuckled. "She is ever the matchmaker."
"You think you are immune to love, dear brother, but you possess a heart just as everyone else does." Isobel's dark eyes, so like his own, gleamed with humor.
'Haps Cyrus did have a heart, but no one would ever find it. He made sure 'twas buried far behind thick stone walls. His ambitions for his clan had naught to do with sentiment or emotion. Before the end of his days, he intended for the MacKenzies to be among the strongest and wealthiest clans in the country. His recent title of earl, bestowed upon him by King James, along with his new holdings in the Outer Hebrides as well as the northeast of Scotland, elevated his clan by several degrees. And his upcoming marriage to the Marquess of Kilverntay's daughter would further increase his clan's wealth and prestige.
Cyrus had always held an ambition to marry an earl's daughter, but to marry a marquess's daughter would be beyond his expectations. Of course, she had to be poised, elegant and beautiful, too.
But what if Rebbie's sister was unattractive?
Cyrus frowned. He would cope with it… in the dark, if necessary. It didn't matter what young Lily looked like. Her status alone made her the best potential bride he'd met so far.
Still… he was curious. He turned to Dirk, one of Rebbie's closest friends. "In the missive Rebbie sent, he wrote that his father was having a difficult time finding a suitable husband for Lady Lily. Do you ken why?" If the lady was a great beauty, surely legions of suitors would have been knocking at the marquess's door, and some highly ranked aristocrat would've already spoken for her.
Dirk shook his head. "He mentioned naught about it in his missives to me. She must be around twenty or twenty-one summers now, and I'm certain her father is chomping at the bit to have her married off."
Cyrus nodded. That could only work in his favor.
"If she's anything like Rebbie, she's even more particular than you are about a match." Isobel smirked.
"Maybe so, but I have good reason to be selective. I must find the bride who will bring the most benefits to the MacKenzie clan. She must be perfect."
Isobel gasped. "No woman is perfect, and you should not expect her to be." She turned to her husband. "Am I perfect?"
Hesitating, Dirk lifted a brow. "'Tis a trick question, I vow."
"Indeed. Women are ever crafty," Cyrus said.
Isobel eyed him defiantly. "'Tis merely another word for cunning. And are you not cunning, brother?"
"'Tis different for a man."
"Oh, aye," she said doubtfully. "Men are allowed to be cunning but women are not."
"With the enemy, aye. But not with a husband or wife."
Isobel glanced at her husband. "Did I trick you?"
