India gazed about the table; her eyes lighting upon her siblings. Henry and Charlie were in England. She would see them soon enough. Her half-brothers, Patrick, Adam, and Duncan, now eleven, ten, and seven, she would probably see rarely, if ever again. Patrick, of course, would one day be the second duke of Glenkirk. The younger two would have to marry heiresses. We'll never really know each other, India thought sadly. How lucky Fortune and I were to have each other!

Fortune. Beautiful, practical, yet impulsive Fortune. What did fate have in store for her? MacGuire's Ford, its castle and lands in Ireland, were, of course, her marriage portion, but Ireland was such a disturbed land. Still, her parents had always spoken of seeking a husband for Fortune in Ireland. Her sister wasn't getting any younger. She would be seventeen in July. But who on earth was there in Ireland who might make a suitable husband for Fortune? She looked at her sister. Fortune gazed up at that moment, and smiled encouragingly at her. Whatever was meant for Fortune, she obviously had no fear of it. I envy her, India thought, and how Fortune would mock and tease her if she ever knew that, India considered with a wry smile.

"Now that you have married me off, madame," India said to her mother, "I expect Fortune will be next, eh? What have you in mind for my sister? As you have obtained an earl for me, certainly you must do as well for her."

"I don't care who he is as long as he has a brain in his head and a good heart," Fortune replied, laughing. "I don't need some man's title to make me presentable. I have my own title."

"We plan a visit to MacGuire's Ford this summer," Jasmine said. "We will not be coming to Queen's Malvern. I have been in correspondence with Rory MacGuire, our estate manager. As Fortune is the heiress to those lands, the folk are very interested in meeting her, as they have not seen her since she was an infant."

"I remember when Fortune was baptized," India said. "It was in the church at MacGuire's Ford. I remember telling Great-grandfather Adam that I had wanted a pony, not a baby sister. A black pony! Who baptized Fortune, madame?"

"My cousin, Cullen Butler," the duchess replied.

"A Papist?" Fortune looked shocked. "I was baptized by a Papist, Mama? Why was I never told?"

Jasmine spoke quietly. "You certainly know how I feel regarding religion, Fortune. I hold to the old queen's maxim that there is but one Lord Jesus Christ, and the rest is all trifles. My father held to such thought, allowing all faiths to be practiced in his kingdom. It is outrageous arrogance for any one faith in God to believe it is the be-all and end-all of religion. That all other faiths are wrong. Did not our Lord Christ Himself say that in His Father's house were many mansions? Surely He did not lie. And if there are many mansions, then there must be many paths leading to the doors of those mansions in God's kingdom. Aye, you were baptized in what is referred to as the old faith. Your godparents are a good lady named Bride Duffy, who is the most respected woman in the village, and Rory MacGuire, our estate manager. Before the English took away his lands, and gave them to me, Rory was the lord of Erne Rock Castle. He has cared for your lands with honest diligence. I am very grateful to him, as you should be. The descendants of Nighthawk and Nightbird are the most sought-after horses in both England and Europe. Rory MacGuire has made you a rich woman, Fortune. Remember it well. As for your baptism by a Papist, it is a valid one, even in England."

Fortune flushed. "I think I am going to have a great deal to learn about Ireland, Mama. I hope Master MacGuire will help me so I do not offend the people I must care for; but tell me this: How is it that there has been peace on my lands all these years?"

"Because both the poor beleaguered Catholics and our Protestant tenants have been taught to respect one another. Each has a church. The village elders are equally divided, and we keep our people as isolated as possible from the rest of the area so they will not be contaminated by the hate generated by the political and religious factions. Anyone unhappy with our rule is free to leave and go elsewhere," the duchess of Glenkirk said. "I will not have our lands in constant turmoil. It is unproductive and wasteful. That dreadful hate was responsible for your father's death. I will never forget that."

"I do not know if I can keep such order," Fortune said nervously.

"You are the lady of Erne Rock Castle," her mother told her. "With Rory MacGuire's aid, and the right husband, MacGuire's Ford will continue to flourish." She now turned to India. "It is time for you to change your gown, daughter, and leave us. You have a long trip ahead of you, and the sooner you are on your way, the better."

India arose from the highboard, and departed the hall. She found her bedchamber virtually bare, and quite sparse, for all her belongings, had, in accordance with her instructions, been packed. The baggage train that would accompany her was large.

Meggie helped her from her gown. "Shall I pack it?" she asked.

"Nay, leave it. I do not want it," India said. "I would give it to you, but I don't ever want to see it again to remind me of this day."

" 'Tis too grand for me," Meggie said cheerfully. "And, besides, when and where would I wear it? I laid out yer riding clothes. I thought you would prefer to be a-horse as to being in a closed carriage."

India nodded in agreement. She pulled on the doeskin breeches and stout woolen socks. Her leather boots were more comfortable than the slippers she had worn. A white shirt, and doeskin jerkin with silver-edged horn buttons completed her outfit, along with the small green velvet cap with a single eagle feather she clapped upon her head. She took the perfumed leather gloves Meggie handed her, and then stopped a moment to look about the room. Meggie discreetly withdrew.

While India was still furious with her stepfather, she did have mixed feelings about departing Glenkirk. It had been her home for many years. She had come as a child with Henry, Fortune, and Charlie. They had all grown up here, chasing through the hallways, playing hide-and-seek in the largely unused tower rooms. She had been happy here. Glenkirk had been her refuge, but she would now forever associate it with the loss of her son, Rowan. For that she could thank her stepfather. In one brutal act he had wiped away all those happy years. No. She would never forgive James Leslie.

Without a backward glance India swept from the room, hurrying downstairs and out into the courtyard of the castle. She bid the servants she had known since childhood a gracious farewell, accepting their good wishes for her happiness. She kissed her youngest brothers, Adam and Duncan, but Patrick, the eldest of the Leslies, thrust out his hand at her. Brushing it aside, India hugged him hard. "Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, Paddy," she whispered. "It's hard to be grown, as you'll find out one day too soon, I fear."

"Dinna saw at yer horse's mouth," he replied, squirming out of her grasp. "Yer too impatient with the beastie, India, and its puir mouth is sensitive. Will ye remember now?"

"Aye," she said, ruffling his dark head. Her glance swung to her stepfather. She nodded curtly at the duke of Glenkirk. "Farewell, sir," she said coldly, and then turned to her mother. "Remember your promises to me, madame. I shall send a message when I have arrived at Queen's Malvern, and afterward at Oxton Court."

Jasmine put her arms about her eldest child. "You were born from a deep and great love, India. I have tried, whatever you may think, to be a good mother to you. I do love you." She kissed her daughter's smooth cheek. "May the God of us all guard and guide you, India. May that God keep you safe, my child."

"I love you too, Mama," India replied, feeling the tears pricking behind her eyelids. While she was angry at James Leslie, the anger she had felt toward her mother had dried up over these past few weeks. She kissed her mother back, and then India turned, mounting the horse that Diarmid held for her. "Farewell," she said, raising her hand to them, and then she moved off through the portcullis and over the drawbridge of the castle onto the road south.

She was surrounded by over a hundred Glenkirk men-at-arms who would accompany her to the border with England. There was a large and comfortable traveling coach, should she choose to ride in it with Meggie, who now sat alone within the vehicle, and a great train of fifteen baggage carts holding all her possessions, as well as a dozen fine horses that were part of her dowry. India sat straight in her saddle, her eyes forward, taking in the familiar landscape. In her heart, however, she could not help but wonder where amid those green hills her son was now hidden. She would find him. Whatever the cost she would find her son. Caynan Reis's son. No stranger would raise or claim her blood. Rowan was out there amid the bens, or in some hidden glen, and she would find him. Her intentions resolute, the newly married countess of Oxton turned her horse south for England.

Chapter 19

Deverall Leigh, earl of Oxton, had spent the morning riding across his estates. After eleven years on the Barbary coast, he couldn't get enough of the wonderful green of England. His lands, set in a verdant valley between the rivers Severn and Avon, were both beautiful and fertile. The meadows were filled with sheep. His vast orchards of apples and pears, for which the region was famed, were even now at peak bloom. There were lush green pastures awaiting the arrival of the horses his bride would bring him, and with which he intended to begin breeding race horses.