Chapter One
1748

Jamie stood in the richly appointed library looking out the window. A melancholy slipped over her as she watched her two-and-a-half-year old daughters and their nanny, Simone, head down the lawn to feed the noisy geese. Simone had hold of Hope's hand while Honor with quick and sure steps surged ahead of them. Their small dog, Molly, ran back and forth between the two girls. Jamie pressed her forehead against one of the windowpanes. Perhaps, she thought, she should go outside and join them.

"Jamie," a man's voice said.

Jamie sighed and turned around. "Thomas."

"Jamie, do ye remember that invitation for the ball you received from the Marquis of Rees?"

"Aye," she said.

"Weel," Thomas said hesitating slightly, "Fiona and I have done something. We've accepted the invitation for ye. You are going to Edinburgh. Tomorrow ye'll leave for your townhouse, and we have arranged for Connor Lawson to escort ye."

"Och, so now ye're going to arrange my life, is it?" She snapped her gaze up at him.

"Nae. Not arrange your life, only help ye start to live it again."

"I thought ye were one of my men-at-arms, no' my social secretary." She uttered her words impassively.

"When your father died, he left ye with a writ of succession to be the Duchess of Whitesea. As a duchess ye canna keep yourself bottled up here at Heaven's Skye. Ye must think of your children's future." Thomas came over to her and put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "We're only doing this for you."

"I know ye mean well. But after my father died, and then Teague's grandmother, I just haven't felt like going to a ball or any kind of party. I want --" Jamie stopped talking. To even say Teague's name was difficult. All the prayers she had said for his safe return seemed to have been for naught.

"Ye're thinking of Teague. It's been over two years now. He's not coming back, lass. Even if he survived Culloden and was in hiding with Prince Charlie until he left, Teague would have at least written, gotten a message to us somehow, or would have been back long before now. It's time to face it. He's gone." Thomas dropped his gaze. "Dead.

Jamie's shoulders sagged. Every now and then someone would bring up how long it had been since Teague had not come back home. Thomas was right, of course. She hadn't truly faced it. She had kept it bottled up inside her. Only in the darkest, loneliest hours of the night did she allow herself to think about Teague. Or even the possibility of his death. On those nights that she was unable to sleep she would prowl through the large dark and silent mansion. She kept telling herself that someday Teague would return, but after this amount of time it appeared more and more unlikely.

One of the under butlers came in. "Your Grace, a Captain John Pell is here to see you, if you are available."

Jamie's brows rose. "Are ye sure it's a Captain Pell?"

"Yes, m'lady."

She licked her top lip. The last time she had seen John Pell he had been a lieutenant. "I'll see him. Is he in the drawing room?"

"Yes, m'lady. Would you like refreshments served?"

No," she answered simply as she walked out of the library.

"I had better come with you, Jamie," Thomas said, following her out of the library. "It could be an official visit."

Copyright © 2001