Bronwyn MacArran stood at the window of the English manor house, looking down at the courtyard below. The mullioned window was open against the warm summer sun. She leaned forward slightly to catch a whiff of fresh air. As she did so, one of the soldiers below grinned up at her suggestively.
She stepped back quickly, grabbed the window, and slammed it shut. She turned away angrily.
"The English pigs!" Bronwyn cursed under her breath. Her voice was soft, full of the heather and mist of the Highlands.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside her door, and she caught her breath, then released it when...