But because she was a woman who bore his name, it would be impossible not to remember her every time he handled his skean dhu.
The thought of her made him angry and there was a dark look on his face so that his valet looked at him apprehensively when he said,
“Goodnight, Your Grace.”
“Goodnight.”
The Duke’s voice made the simple words sound as if they were a malediction rather than an expression of goodwill.
Hastily the valet closed the door behind him and wiped his forehead before he walked away down the corridor.
The Duke stood for a moment in the centre of his room, the room where his forefathers had slept and died, a room where they had planned their battles against the English and their forays against the Kildonnons, a room that had known not only hate but love and happiness.
I
