Journey to 1692 Scotland in THE TACKSMAN'S DAUGHTER by Donna Scott
As accusations of betrayal, deceit, and treason abound, they are all trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, but not everyone will escape.
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The Tacksman's Daughter
Scotland, 1692. To escape a brutal winter storm, King William’s regiments descend on the small village of Glencoe. Caitriona Cameron, the tacksman’s daughter, cannot forget her unpleasant encounter the last time English troops appeared. She senses the army’s arrival might not be as innocent as it seems, but her warnings go unheeded. Not even MacIain, the MacDonald clan chief, listens. After twelve days of billeting in the villagers’ homes, the soldiers attack, committing one of the greatest atrocities in Highland history.
Cait escapes the assault with the help of Sergeant Edward Gage who is accused of being a traitor for not taking up arms against the MacDonalds. Edward is hunted by his debauched half-brother, Alexander, who stands to lose everything if King William attaints their father for his treasonous past deeds. With bad blood between them, Alexander sets out to capture Edward to prove his loyalty and save himself from ruin.
Cait and Edward travel to Edinburgh to confront the men they suspect are behind the attack, unaware that Alexander is headed there as well. Although Cait is convinced the chief of Clan Campbell is responsible, Edward suspects something much more sinister—that the orders came from higher up, possibly even from the king himself.
As accusations of betrayal, deceit, and treason abound, they are all trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, but not everyone will escape.
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The Tacksman's Daughter
MEET ALEXANDER, the villain
Even though it was better than sleeping outside in the unbearable cold, lying with five other men in a room the size of a breadbasket was not to Alexander’s liking. It had to be the worst room in the manor. Didn’t the laird realize that this was beneath him? He had made it perfectly clear upon their introduction that he was a noble and not some commoner who should be given a tattered wool blanket and a pallet stinking of mouldy straw and cow dung.
All night his men had snored and farted, adding to the sour stench that accompanied their unwashed bodies. It was like sleeping in a poorly kept barn. He wouldn’t have even allowed his most incompetent hunting dog to rest there.
To make matters worse, he had to start the morning with the knowledge that Edward had somehow managed to meet the fairest of all the Glencoe wenches before him and insert his greedy claws into her. It was the way she’d looked at him with judging eyes while they were in the kitchens, as if he were somehow inferior to that lowly brother of his, that made his chest burn.
He couldn’t wait to leave this place and all its savagery. Dalrymple was right. These people needed to be tamed, brought to their knees in submission to His Majesty, King William, and taught the king’s English, for God’s sake.
Relieved to be anywhere other than his dismal sleeping quarters, he stood at the window in the laird’s drawing room, staring out at the bare larches dotting the hillside behind the estate, their fallen needles buried under three or four feet of snow. There was something about the sky that promised better weather, though. By noon, the fog had lifted, and the sun struggled through slightly parted clouds high above. Alexander leaned his forehead on the cold windowpane, hopeful that the small break in weather would mean they could resume their march and get on with teaching Glengarry a good lesson on loyalty and fealty. That was his favourite part of being a soldier—drawing the haughtiness out of some desperate scoundrel with his blade stretched across his neck.
Of course, Alexander was only a soldier because his father had turned traitor to King William three years earlier and become part of the Jacobite rising. If he hadn’t done that, Father wouldn’t be in the Tower eating scraps left over from the guards, and Alexander wouldn’t have been forced into the military to prove his worthiness to the king. For the moment, the king hadn’t used attainder against Father for his treason, but the threat of it lay imminent. If William chose to attaint the earl, Alexander would lose his titles and lands. All of his inheritance. He would become a commoner. The mere thought of it sent him into a horrible sweat.
“There you are.” Edward stood at the threshold to the room, his coat off and the top three buttons of his waistcoat undone.
Alexander hated when he appeared so slovenly. He was a soldier, an officer. But then again, he was also a bastard.
“Would you care to join us in a game of baggammon, brother?” Edward asked.
Alexander rubbed his forehead, still cold from the glass pane. “Another game of baggammon? Sounds thrilling.”
Edward crossed his arms, feet spread apart. Alexander hated to admit it, but he recognized himself in that stance. Except when he stood that way, it was more of a challenge, not a question.
There was only one thing that could entice him to join the others. Alexander asked, “Have they wine? Not that vile whisky, I hope.”
End of Excerpt.
The Tacksman's Daughter ©2021 Donna Scott. Shared with permission.
Meet the Author / Find Online
Donna Scott is an award-winning author of 17th and 18th century historical fiction. Before embarking on a writing career, she spent her time in the world of academia. She earned her BA in English from the University of Miami and her MS and EdD (ABD) from Florida International University. She has two sons and lives in sunny South Florida with her husband. Her first novel, Shame the Devil, received the first place Chaucer Award for historical fiction and a Best Book designation from Chanticleer International Book Reviews. Her newest novel, The London Monster, was released in November 2020. To learn about new releases and special offers, please sign up for Donna’s newsletter.
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Genre: Historical Fiction
Publisher: Atlantic Publishing
Release: December 27, 2021
Type: Novel
Content Rating: R (***Contains some sexual content, assault, and violence***)
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