Page 1 of Her Highland Prophecy
1
Ballachulish, Scotland, 1928
Diana followed her little sister through the fair, the lights and bright colors, amazed once more at how excitable she could be. At the moment, her eyes were glued to the vast array of colorful horses rotating slowly in a wave on the merry-go-round.
“Di, look! They have a carousel!” Grace exclaimed as she looked around with childish glee.
Diana shook her head fondly. She looked at the fair surrounding her and her wonder went up a notch.
Beautiful though the tiny village of Ballachulish and the surrounding area were, they were as far removed from civilization as she could imagine; and she had visited some strange places in her lifetime, usually linked with her studies at the University of London.
Their annual holiday for this year took the small group to the Scottish Highlands. Diana hoped to see some of the landscapes featured in an art exhibition on Scottish painters that she had so much admired at University.
“Di, let’s go!” her sister urged again and this time grabbed her hand.
“All right, all right! Stop pulling, Grace!”
Honestly, sometimes Diana was not sure if Grace was eighteen or eight years old. The detour to this particular fair had been entirely her idea. They had spent the last few weeks traipsing the wilds of Scotland along with a few friends and this was not the first time she had prompted an additional stop with her enthusiasm.
Louisa and Peggy, her friends, were surprisingly indulgent. Even now, Diana could see Louisa looking over at her with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk, certain that Diana would oblige her little sister. Diana rolled her eyes and caved.
“We’ll meet you at the food area!” she called out with a laugh as her friends disappeared behind the crowd.
They quickly reached the carousel and joined the queue after paying the fee. Diana pulled her purse a little closer, remembering the grubby man’s greedy look at the sight of the money inside. She shuddered and glanced around.
Several beggars stood in her line of sight. Filthy and unkempt, they ambled through the crowd with outstretched arms. Diana moved closer to her sister.
“I think I want that one,” Grace interrupted her musings, pointing to one of the horses.
Diana squinted at the spinning carousel. “The white one with the flowers on its mane?” she asked. She looked away a moment later, dizzy.
“No, next to it. The beautiful bay with the braid in its tail,” Grace said. Diana looked back, spotting the one she was talking about.
Eyeing the pretty floral outfit her sister had put on after breakfast, Diana teased, “I see it. How are you going to climb on that thing? It’s enormous and you’re in a dress.”
In fact, all four of them dressed in similar dresses, the only difference being the color. It had been one of the first things they bought when they were in Edinburgh. Grace’s dress was a soft yellow, a perfect counterbalance to Diana’s darker blue.
“It’s not as large as Captain,” her sister said dismissively. Diana’s eyes widened. Captain was their father’s black stallion.
“Captain? When did you ride Dad’s horse?”
Grace looked sheepish at what she had let slip.
“Well, Hazel threw a shoe and I really wanted to take a ride and—”
“Wait…Hazel?” The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t immediately place it. When she did, her eyes widened. “Didn’t Dad sell her a few years ago?”
Grace bit her lip and Diana sighed. It was just like her sister to do something so reckless.
“You could have been killed.”
“Well, it was years ago and nothing happened, so I know I can get onto that horse if I want to,” Grace said and crossed her arms.
Diana sighed. Sometimes she forgot how young Grace was. She was ten years her junior: born just before the Great War, and spoiled most of her life by their parents and the staff at their house.
“If you say so, but I would remind you that there won’t be a stable hand or a convenient hay bale available to help you here,” Diana teased.
Grace opened her mouth to retort but diverted her attention to the man walking up to them.
