LOGINEscaped slavery and is now lost in a strange country? Check! Caught between two warring nations? Check! Bad-ass with an attitude and skills that range from healing to breaking bones? Check! Lucky checks all the boxes. But life couldn't have prepared her for what happens when she runs into the tall, handsome Scottish lord, who himself is on the run from the English. Welcome to Castle Big Rock, Scotland ano 1680.
View MoreLucky's POVWe rode for what I could only imagine were several hours before they stopped to rest the horses. That’s when Markus took me down from the horse and did what he hadn’t had the time to do so far...Interrogate me.“So,” he said in a strict and firm voice, as if I were a child, he was about to scold me. “Mind telling us the truth? Who are you?”“Lucky,” I answered between clenched teeth. If I opened my mouth any more than necessary, I was afraid I was going to bite off his head. The anger boiled in my blood. Even if he had brought me along, I soon figured out why.He wasn’t grateful!He needed me to be with him in case I sounded the alarm - nothing else.“Eye, you need to be, to pull off what you just did,” the old one said while helping to tend to the continuous bleeding of the wounded one.“No, my name is Lucky!” I said and turned to Markus with a glare I was hoping would put him six feet under. “I’m from the middle of nowhere, and your boss has promised to help me get back
Lucky's POVThe guards at the prison, of course, thought it was suspicious that I had come there. But as I offered them food and explained that my soul was in dire need of the good Father - whom I still hoped was inside - they seemed to buy it and let me enter.As I stepped into the prison, I thought it would either be peaceful or filled with desperate, fearful voices. But instead, I was met with the sound of roaring laughter."--- you can only imagine the filly’s expression, when I---," I heard the oldest one say, while his audience laughed their asses off. Well, all except the priest."You heathen dogs!" he shouted, cutting the Scot off and jumping up and down in outrage like an insolent toddler. His face turned alternately red and purple, and even I had a hard time controlling my laughter. I really didn’t want to know what had happened to that poor filly."I can only pray that God will show you scoundrels mercy, because God knows, I can’t help you!" He bellowed on, before turning a
Lucky's POVI was shown into a well-lit room with candlelight along its sides and a huge fireplace. There was a small table and two chairs in front of the fireplace, a desk at the other end, and a cabinet where bottles of wine and liquor were displayed. It was warm inside, but something about the man by my side gave me chills."Come," he said kindly, showing me to one of the chairs. "Tell me about yourself?"I sat down, and as he did nothing but act polite and gentlemanly, I knew the interrogation had begun."I'm afraid there's not a lot to tell," I answered while he poured two cups of a pale brown liquor. From the corner of my eye, I saw him adding something else to the drink, and I could only guess what it was."My name is Marie," I continued as if I were completely unaware of what he was doing. "I'm from a small ministry in Norway, near Oslo. Our mission was traveling to northern Spain via Scotland and England to get more recruits.""What happened?" he asked, settling into the chai
Markus's POVAs the prison door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but feel angry, frustrated, and utterly useless. I had fallen so easily into Fitzwilliam’s trap that a child could have seen through it.Damn it!I knew that every time I left Castle Big Rock, I was risking my own life. The Prince of Wales might have protected me, and no one dared speak against the Duke of York, but my enemies were many and powerful. As soon as they had the chance, they would kill me.I knew that!Still, I couldn’t sit idly by and let the King of England do whatever he pleased with our home. The Weapons Act! The Cloth Act! Acts of utter stupidity, if you asked me. If they wanted to erase Scotsmen from Scotland, they needed more than just Acts to do so. And as I stood there, I found myself cursing the Jacobites for their foolishness. Sure, their intentions may have been pure and noble, but as they all fled to France and lived comfortably there, we were left behind to face the consequences of their action












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