Chapter OneDuart CastleIsle of Mull, ScotlandMay 2, 1567
It was one thing to fall—it was quite another to be shoved from the ledge of a second-story window.
Thomas Wentworth landed flat on his back with an ominous thud, his head saved from the rocky ground by a thick patch of herbs. Light exploded before his eyes as the breath left his body in a whoosh, and blessed blackness beckoned.
For several long moments, he fought for breath. Just as sweet air swept in to reassure him that he wasn’t dead, a lilting voice exclaimed softly, “Och, I’ve killed...