CHAPTER TWORobert, Duke of Glentorran, was clambering down the steep rocky steps that had been cut into the cliff face by his ancestors many centuries ago.
It was a wild day for early June.
The sea was crashing onto the sharp black rocks of the West coast of Scotland in great walls of white foam and dark grey-green water.
The early summer storm was blowing fierce clouds in from the far horizon, shutting out the sun.
It was a day that matched the Duke’s mood – black and miserable.
The sharp pebbles of the little cove crunched under his boots as he strode down to the water’s edge, his dark green kilt swinging around his knees.
He stared out across the ocean, allowing the cold salty wind to blow his dark hair into wild tangles.
High above him, on the cliffs of Glentorran, stood his hom
