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told the earl, was quite dear to his heart. Her husband must be able to forgive her lack of beauty, and be kind to her. If the Earl of Duin wanted those lands bordering his that Robert Baird possessed, he would have to take Annabella as his wife, and guarantee the laird his assurances that he would be good to the lass.
    “I dinna want a beautiful wife,” Angus Ferguson had told his prospective father-in-law. “I want an obedient wife who will do her duty by me.” Nay, he didn’t want a wife who would be the envy of other men’s lust. A woman who would use her beauty to betray him and break his heart. He wanted a woman he could respect, who would be faithful to him and to his wishes. “Yer daughter’s reputation is pleasing to me, my lord. I believe she will suit me quite well.”
    “I must ask,” Robert Baird said, “the rumors of sorcery . . . are they true, my lord?”
    “Nay, they are not. I am no sorcerer; nor do I practice the dark arts,” Angus Ferguson said.
    “Then I am satisfied ye’ll be a good husband to my daughter. If ye’ll have her, the land ye desire is yers. It will serve as her dower portion,” the laird of Rath said.
    “Agreed!” the Earl of Duin responded, and the two men shook hands. “I’ll send my half brother, Matthew, to Rath as my proxy. He will travel in the company of our other brother, James, a priest. Jamie will see to the marriage contracts and perform the ceremony. I know ye’re of the Reformed faith, but I remain a son of Holy Mother Church.”
    Robert Baird nodded. “I understand and have no objections,” he said. “We were of the old faith until the law was changed, but the queen says we may all worship as we see fit. Annabella will conform to yer wishes, my lord.”
    Indeed she would, the laird thought. He had found her a good husband when he had not ever thought he would. And she would not just be a wife. She would be the Countess of Duin.

Chapter 2

    T he laird of Rath had gathered his familyin the hall of their tower house. He signaled to his servants to bring wine. It was poured into the two silver cups that belonged to the lord and his wife, and five small round earthenware cups for their five children. Robert Baird raised his cup. “Let us toast your sister, Annabella, who is soon to be wed,” he said, enjoying the look of surprise on his daughters’ faces.
    “To Annabella!” they all said, drinking deep from their cups.
    Annabella Baird had never liked surprises. Especially when they involved her. She would have preferred it if her father and her mother had told her of this marriage privily before announcing it in the hall for all the world to hear. She could but imagine how relieved her parents were to have finally found her a husband. Annabella Baird had no illusions about herself. She knew better than most just how plain of face she was. Finally regaining her composure she asked, “Who am I to wed, Da?” Who indeed?
    “You are to marry the Earl of Duin, Angus Ferguson. He is your senior by fifteen years, but has never taken a wife,” Robert Baird told his daughter.
    Annabella’s next-younger sister, Myrna, snickered, and then whispered something to their next sister, Sorcha, who immediately giggled. Sorcha was by nature a giggler. Annabella found it quite annoying.
    “What is so amusing?” she demanded of Myrna.
    “The laird of Duin has had no time for a wife, it is said, because he spends all his time chasing pretty lasses,” Myrna replied. “Blessed Mary, Annabella, he is said to be the handsomest man in the borders, as well as a sorcerer!” She brayed her laughter. “The plainest face in the borders to wed a handsome sorcerer. Maybe his magic can make you fair.” Myrna cackled again at her own wit.
    “If sorcery could sweeten your nature, sister, I should be forever grateful,” Annabella returned sharply. “Won’t Ian Melville be surprised to learn what a shrew ye are, Myrna.” She turned back to her father. “Where is Duin,