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toes stopped wiggling, they would know for a certainty that he was dead. Three other soldiers were in favor of dropping him into the hole feetfirst. They wanted to hear him scream and beg for mercy until the last shovel of dirt was thrown across the top of his head.

    “He might not wake up,” a soldier argued. “I’m in favor of stuffing his head in first.”
    “He didn’t even give up a whimper while we were beating him. Why do you think he’d start in screaming now?” another asked.
    “Look at the mist coming on. It’s already covering the ground and creeping up my boots. You won’t be able to see his head anyway if this muck gets any thicker.”
    “Pull that hood off and toss some water on his face and he’ll wake up,” yet another suggested.
    “He’s going in headfirst.”
    “Feetfirst,” a soldier shouted, shoving one of the men who had disagreed with him.
    Gordon knew the argument would soon turn physical. He kept his eye on the top of the ridge and announced that he would be the deciding vote.
    Liam MacHugh would go to his grave feetfirst.

    I T WASN’T UNUSUAL FOR A BRIDE TO MEET HER GROOM FORthe first time at their wedding ceremony, but Gabrielle hoped to at least get a glimpse of the man before then. The only piece of information she had about Laird Monroe was that he was an older man. No one had told her how much older, though, and she was filled with trepidation. What if he turned out to be an ogre? Or so old he couldn’t stand straight? Or had no teeth and could only eat mush? She knew that his age and appearance shouldn’t be important to her, but what if his manners were atrocious? Or worse, what if he was cruel to those around him? Could she live with someone who mistreated the men and women who depended on him?
    Her mother had often told her that she worried too much, but wasn’t the unknown always a worry? To Gabrielle it was. Oh, how she wished her mother were here to offer advice now. She would calm Gabrielle’s fears. But her mother had died in the winter two years ago. While Gabrielle knew that she had been blessed to have her in her life for so many years, there were times when she physically ached to talk to her. Today was one of those times, for Gabrielle was on her way to her wedding.
    Twenty soldiers along with staff and servants accompanied Gabrielle and her father to the Highlands of Scotland. Their destination was Arbane Abbey, where her wedding ceremony would take place in one week. Rooms would be provided at the abbey for the travel-weary group.
    The procession up the mountain was slow and arduous. The closer they came to their destination, the more withdrawn Gabrielle became.

    The trail was narrow and broken, but her father was able to ride by her side once they had rounded a sharp turn. Baron Geoffrey tried to think of a way to lighten her concerns about the future.
    He motioned to the lush valley below. “Do you notice how green everything is here, Gabrielle?”
    “Yes, Father, I do,” she replied without enthusiasm.
    “And do you notice how invigorating the brisk air is in the Highlands?”
    “I do,” she said.
    The good baron was determined to raise his daughter’s spirits. “There are those Highlanders who believe that we are high enough to touch heaven. What do you think?” It wasn’t like Gabrielle’s father to be so fanciful. Her mother had been the fanciful one, full of dreams that she had passed on to her daughter. But her father wasn’t a dreamer. He was a leader of men, a protector, and a terribly practical man.
    “I would think they were mistaken,” she answered. “We aren’t high enough to touch heaven here. Only in St. Biel would that be possible.”
    “And how would you know this?”
    “Mother,” she answered.
    “Ah,” Baron Geoffrey said with a melancholy smile. “And what exactly did she tell you?”
    “She always said the same thing, that when she stood next to the statue of St. Biel that overlooks the harbor, she was as close