1
Stirling, Scotland
“It’s a death wish to go there, Gavin, and you know it.”
Gavin Kerr pretended to ignore his friend’s angry concern. Moving from one painting to the next, the black-haired giant continued to study the splendid canvases adorning the walls of Ambrose Macpherson’s study.
“At least a dozen deaths in the past half year,” Ambrose growled. “Think, man. The last laird and his family died miserable deaths in that hideous pile of rock. By the saints, Gavin, no laird of Ironcross Castle has died of old age for centuries."
“Ambrose, your wife has an astonishing gift...”
“We were discussing your foolishness in going to Ironcross just now,” Ambrose interrupted.
“Aye, but these faces touch me nearer to the heart.” Gavin reached up as if to run his fingers over the swirling colo
