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The Dark Laird: Defender of Strathrevie

by Wilma Anne Chadney

233 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-1675; ISBN 1-4120-1297-X; US$21.50, C$24.45, EUR17.50, £12.50

Bad things keep happening in the Revie Valley! Calum McCallam, the new laird, must use determination and courage to defend the valley and win the heart of his bonny neighbour.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book While King David reigns over Scotland in the 12th Century, Calum McCallam, chieftain of the high valley called Strathrevie, suddenly finds life getting complicated. The carefree new laird, while hunting, ventures onto the lands of a neighbouring clan and encounters the enchanting granddaughter of the McDiarmid laird. In time the couple decide on a 'handfast' year, a custom whereby they may live together for a year and a day, before they decide to marry. Little do Calum and Mared know that during their 'handfast' year unfriendly forces will cause undercurrents. These will result in a rash of startling events. The young laird must deal swiftly with trouble makers and still find the time to discover why his lady is drifting away from him.

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About the Author Wilma Anne Chadney has spent enjoyable time recreating the lives of people who may once have lived in a remote valley of medieval Scotland. During a career teaching in the Middle East, she travelled extensively to her family's origins in the British Isles. Scotland was the inpiration for this novel. Her next project is another novel about the Revie Valley. Wilma lives with her husband in the Fraser Valley, British Columbia.

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Sample Excerpt

Mared relaxed on the sunny steps of the great hall. Today the twins were being easy to look after; the sun was warm on the packed dirt of the enclosure. The boys loved being outside, and were dragging about small sticks of kindling. Edgar was piling them up, while Malcolm scratched marks in the dust.

She opened the heavy door to the great hall, allowing light into the cavernous entry, and turning, noticed that the timber doors to the courtyard were partly open as well, revealing the bridge over the moat and the glen beyond. She fanned her clean wet hair so that it would dry before she braided it. Fiery red highlights gleamed in the long dark hair as she tossed it. Gradually, as she pulled it away from her neck it dried to form thick waves about her shoulders. The sun on her crown picked up the auburn glint.

It was then Mared noticed two long-haired grey dogs running like shadows along the inside perimeter of the enclosure. Startled, because they were great dogs, bred for hunting and unfamiliar to her, she bent to pick up a stick. She moved between the small boys and the hounds in case they became aggressive toward the toddlers. When she lifted her head she was looking up at two men, both riding the same roan mare. Next she saw the inert form of a wild pig draped across the back of the other big horse. They had come silently across the soft dry earth of the enclosure, each hoof creating a puff of dust as the horses plodded forward.

Her first reaction was that the men looked hot, dusty and tired. Then she wondered if they were twins like the small boys. The rider at the rear threw his leg back over the horse's rump and slid to the ground. He paused in front of her.

She looked up, feeling the unease of having such a tall person stand between her and the sun. It seemed to accentuate his height and she could not see his face. When she moved to a better angle she saw that he was frowning. The other rider had, by then, dismounted. She turned, noting he was younger, about her own age. She clasped her hands and told herself to remain calm.

She peeked up at the first man to dismount and saw an expression of baffled surprise, and a hint of appreciation in his light eyes. Mared knew her hair was an untidy cloud about her face and that her kirtle and tunic were dusty at the hems. She wiped at a smudge on her cheek. He raised his brows. She covered one foot with the other in a vain effort to avoid having him see that she was barefoot.

"Does your laird allow men to marry children?"

She stood still. "Of course, he doesn't!" She frowned in response. "-At least I suppose he doesn't." She was mystified that this giant with such piercing light eyes was scowling so. Both men had regular features and were not carelessly shaved. Part of her knew they were not a threat. But she was sure the older one was looking her over with disapproval and tried to form some retort.

She couldn't fi nd any words, and felt two warm spots starting in her cheeks because she was at a disadvantage and, worse, she realized the tall rider was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His expression softened then, as he scrutinized her face.

"What a pity," he said quietly. "A girl ought to be allowed some childhood."

Since she had no idea what the man was talking about, she stepped back onto the hall step. With a practiced gesture she looped her hair in a coil at the back of her neck, then fnally found her tongue. "You are welcome here, strangers. Our hall always has room for travellers."

The men nodded.

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Catalogue Information

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