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Grace in Thine Eyes

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by Liz Curtis Higgs




  PRAISE FOR

  Grace in Thine Eyes

  “Grace in Thine Eyes was a joy to read! I savored every word of this tender and transcendent story of one young woman’s journey from disgrace to his grace. Liz Curtis Higgs is a masterful storyteller whose eloquent pen has truly been blessed.”

  —TERESA MEDEIROS, New York Times best-selling author

  “If you’ve read Liz Curtis Higgs’s earlier Scottish trilogy, you already know that she has an extraordinary gift for building a beautiful, elegant story around people thrust into crisis, people whose faith is severely tested in ways that hold us captive until the final pages. Grace in Thine Eyes sings throughout with the pulsating rhythm of love—God’s love for his people and our love for one another. Higgs manages to turn history and imagery and language into an unforgettable work of art. A timeless masterpiece.”

  —B. J. HOFF, author of A Distant Music

  “Grace in Thine Eyes is a phenomenal story that beautifully parallels its biblical counterpart. In a world where love has so often been replaced by lust, Liz Curtis Higgs reminds us that what the heart is truly seeking is the grace and mercy of God’s forgiving love.”

  —TRACIE PETERSON, best-selling author of What She Left for Me

  PRAISE FOR

  Thorn in My Heart

  Fair Is the Rose

  Whence Came a Prince

  “A luminous sense of hope shines through this truly wrenching story of characters who are both larger than life and all too human. This unforgettable saga is as multilayered, mysterious, and joyous as love and faith can be.”

  —SUSAN WIGGS, New York Times best-selling author

  “Absolutely wonderful! These characters are real people. History is woven seamlessly into the compelling story. Wise, heart-wrenching, and ultimately triumphant. I couldn’t put it down.”

  —FRANCINE RIVERS, author of Redeeming Love

  “The dynamic conclusion to Higgs’s acclaimed retelling of the biblical Jacob story fulfills the promise of the first volumes—a must-own for historical-fiction fans. Emotions run the gamut, and clear-cut characters sparkle against a backdrop of superbly researched historical detail.”

  —ROMANTIC TIMES Inspirational Romance TOP PICK

  “With Thorn in My Heart, Liz Curtis Higgs places herself among the best novelists writing today. The story held me spellbound from beginning to end, capturing my heart and never letting go.”

  —ROBIN LEE HATCHER, author of Beyond the Shadows

  “Liz Curtis Higgs maps the human heart with indelible ink … teaching us both the price of passion and the redeeming power of love. An extraordinary trilogy.”

  —TERESA MEDEIROS, New York Times best-selling author

  “The challenges of adapting the scriptural story to the eighteenth century are daunting and make for some contrivances that would be difficult to believe from any author not as talented as Higgs. Admirably, Higgs keeps her protagonists multifaceted and readers’ allegiances shifting as the story unfolds. A welcome glossary helps readers navigate the Scottish terms that lend color to the dialogue, and historical details … create a vivid backdrop.”

  —PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

  “Liz has taken what could have been a triple threat—biblical history, Scottish history, and the difficulty of not overwhelming the reader with either one—and has created a story that is sure to last the ages. I highly recommend this book—this series!”

  —TRACIE PETERSON, author of Land of My Heart

  “Generously researched, heartily written, this grand stew of a novel is filled with meat, spice, and enough Scotch broth to satisfy the palate of the most finicky Scottish historical buffs. Compelling, shattering the barriers of time with frequently stunning imagery and always solid storytelling, Thorn in My Heart measures up against the finest historical fiction of our day.”

  —LISA SAMSON, author of Women’s Intuition

  “All the character portrayals are very authentic, as is the atmospheric setting. The dialogue is interspersed with plenty of Scottish words, whose meanings are thoughtfully provided in a glossary at the end of the book. The entire novel gently carries the message of faith in God and his mysterious ways. Simply put, the book leaves its readers with a satisfied feeling and teaches them to hope.”

  —THEBESTREVIEWS.COM

  “A triumphant conclusion to a remarkable trilogy. Liz’s impeccable research, sense of history, and love of her subject bring her characters’ struggles and victories to life in a story you’ll never forget.”

  —DONNA FLETCHER CROW, author of The Fields of Bannockburn

  “A colorful tapestry woven from painstaking research, a rich, vivid setting, and compelling, wonderfully real characters. With excellent writing and a keen understanding of human nature, Liz Curtis Higgs delivers a first-rate, fascinating historical saga.”

  —B. J. HOFF, author of An Emerald Ballad

  “An engrossing tale that transplants the Old Testament story of Jacob and Esau to eighteenth-century Scotland. Filled with Scottish history, lore, language, and geography, Higgs’s first historical-fiction novel will delight her fans and anyone who enjoys tales of Scotland. It also shows a master storyteller’s skill in shedding new light on a timeless story.”

  —CBA MARKETPLACE

  OTHER BOOKS BY LIZ CURTIS HIGGS

  HISTORICAL FICTION

  Thorn in My Heart

  Fair Is the Rose

  Whence Came a Prince

  CONTEMPORARY FICTION

  Mixed Signals

  Bookends

  NONFICTION

  Bad Girls of the Bible

  Really Bad Girls of the Bible

  Unveiling Mary Magdalene

  Rise and Shine

  CHILDREN’S

  The Parable of the Lily

  The Sunflower Parable

  The Pumpkin Patch Parable

  The Pine Tree Parable

  Go Away, Dark Night

  GRACE IN THINE EYES

  PUBLISHED BY WATERBROOK PRESS

  12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200

  Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2006 by Liz Curtis Higgs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.

  WATERBROOK and its deer colophon are trademarks of Random House Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Higgs, Liz Curtis.

  Grace in thine eyes / Liz Curtis Higgs.—1st ed.

  cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-55085-9

  1. Dinah (Biblical character)—Fiction. 2. Scotland—History—19th century—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3558.I36235G73 2006

  813′.54—dc22

  2005033536

  v3.1

  To Carol Bartley,

  gifted editor

  and precious friend.

  Your patience,

  encouragement,

  thoughtful direction,

  and unwavering faith

  are blessings beyond measure.

  Thank you, dear sister,

  for taking this journey with me

  again and again.
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  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Chapter Eighty

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Author Notes

  Reader’s Guide

  Scottish Glossary

  One

  No doubt they rose up early to observe

  The rite of May.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

  Glen of Loch Trool

  Spring 1808

  Davina McKie dropped to her knees on the grassy hillock, letting her shawl slip past her shoulders despite the sharp chill in the air. The silent glen stood draped in a pearl gray mist, the rugged peaks of Mulldonach mere shadows edged in copper, hinting at dawn.

  A smile stole across her face. Her brothers were nowhere to be seen.

  Davina swept her fingers over the cool, wet grass, then lightly patted her cheeks and brow, touching her nose for good measure. If the May dew banished her freckles, as the auld wives promised, she would gladly wash her face out of doors every morning of the month. Never mind that the ruddy spots matched her bright mane of hair; ferntickles were better suited to a child’s complexion. After seventeen years, Davina was quite ready to be done with them.

  She sat up and rearranged her drooping crown of daisies, meant to safeguard her from brownies, bogles, and other uncanny creatures that roamed the land on Beltane, then started to her feet when a familiar voice rose from the fog.

  “On May Day, in a fairy ring!” Her brother Will. There was no mistaking his baritone. His twin, Sandy—only their mother called him Alexander—would not be far behind.

  Ah well. Davina spun round to greet them.

  Two shaggy heads, black as midnight, emerged from the mist. A year younger than she, the twins were in every way identical, from their dark brown eyes to their broad chests and muscular backs. “Like stags,” their mother had once said, gently teasing them not to be seen on the moors during hunting season.

  As the lads drew near, they finished the May Day rhyme. “We’ve seen them round Saint Anthon’s spring.”

  Davina recognized the poet.

  “Robert Ferguson,” Will answered for her as if he’d read the name in her eyes. He tugged at her unbound hair, which spilled down her back, the scarlet ends brushing her waist. “Sandy, I told you we’d spot a fairy on the braes this morning. See how her ears come to a point?”

  The McKie brothers never tired of comparing her to the wee folk since the crown of her head did not reach their shoulders, and her hands and feet were no bigger than a young girl’s. She snatched her hair from Will’s grasp, only to find his twin plucking at her skirts.

  Sandy’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he appraised her. “A light green gown, fair skin, and a wreath of flowers. She only lacks wings.”

  Will winked at her. “You’ve not looked hard enough, Brother.”

  She fluttered her eyelet shawl behind her, making them both laugh.

  “I see by her wet cheek our fairy has been bathing in the dew.” Sandy gently tweaked her nose. “Perhaps she thinks she’s not bonny enough.”

  Davina knew he was teasing but turned on her heel nonetheless and flounced down the hill toward home, taking care not to lose her footing on the slippery grass and ruin her stageworthy exit. When her brothers called after her, she pretended not to hear them.

  “Och!” Will shouted her name, the sharpness of his voice muted by the moist air. “Sandy meant no offense. You know how daft he is when it comes to the lasses.”

  She heard a soft groan as fist connected with flesh, then Sandy’s voice, slightly winded. “He speaks the truth, Davina. You’ve no need of the May dew when you’re already the fairest maid in Galloway.”

  An exaggerated claim. South West Scotland boasted dozens of young women far prettier than she. Still, she’d made her brothers grovel long enough. Davina slowed her steps, letting the lads catch up.

  “There now.” Will wrapped her right hand round the crook of his elbow, and Sandy the same on her left. “Let us cease any talk of your beauty. As it is, no gentleman in Monnigaff parish is worthy of you.”

  She could not clap her hands—her usual means of expressing amusement—so Davina simply shook her head at Will’s foolishness as they continued downhill together. Perhaps that night when she took to the heath by the light of a gibbous moon, she’d evade her brothers altogether. The ritual required absolute silence—something she managed easily and the twins did not manage at all.

  “We’ve a secret,” Will confessed as the threesome reached level ground. “That’s why we came looking for you.” He led them away from the rushing waters of Buchan Burn and headed west toward the McKie mansion. “Father intends to make an announcement after breakfast. As usual, he’s told us nothing.”

  “Aye.” Sandy grimaced. “ ’Twill be a revelation to us all.”

  Davina searched each face in turn. Was it glad tidings or ill? She touched her lips, then her heart, knowing they would grasp her meaning: Can you not tell me more? I will keep your secret.

  Will shook his head, stamping the grass a bit harder. “That’s all we know, lass. Father demanded we arrive promptly at table. He wasn’
t smiling when he said it.”

  Bad news, then.

  Her earlier joy began to dissipate, like the morning mist giving way to the sun. The trio walked on in silence broken only by the throaty cry of a raven gliding above the surface of Loch Trool. When the thick stand of pines along the loch made continuing arm in arm impossible, Davina followed behind Will, with Sandy close on her heels, her mind turning over the possibilities.

  Was a wedding in the offing? The twins were only sixteen, far too young for marriage. Davina’s steps slowed. Surely her father did not have a suitor in mind for her? Not likely, or her mother would have mentioned something. Was Ian to marry, then? Quite as braw as their handsome father, her brother would make a fine catch for any lass. Nineteen years of age come October, he was man enough to take a wife.

  Ian was in every way her older brother. Responsible. Trustworthy. Intelligent. The twins used other words: Predictable. Unimaginative. Dull. Davina suspected that envy fueled such sentiments: Ian would inherit all of Glentrool. Still, it was Will and Sandy who’d come looking for her on the hills, speculating about an announcement. Might their father not have some favorable word to share with his younger sons? If so, she would mark this day as a rare and welcome occasion.

  As they neared Glentrool, Davina lifted her gaze to its square central tower and the round turret nestled in the heart of its L-shaped design. Built of rough granite from the glen, the house was rugged and imposing, like the Fell of Eschoncan that stood behind it; immovable and unshakable, like the faith of the great-grandfather who had built it.

  After crossing the threshold, they started down the long entrance hall, the twins’ boot heels loud against the hardwood floor. Davina paused at the mirror to smooth the muslin tucker round her neckline and pluck the flowers from her hair, now a tangled mess after her early morning ramble on the hills.

  Drawing a steadying breath, she turned away from her reflection and walked into the dark-beamed dining room, where she was greeted by portraits of McKies from generations past. A single window did little to brighten the dim interior. The rest of the family was already seated, with Father at the head of the long table, Ian to his left and Mother on his right. Though Ian simply said, “Good morning,” she saw the wariness in his gaze, heard his unspoken warning. Something is amiss. A slight furrow carved her father’s brow. More cause for concern.

  “I was about to send Rab off to find you.” Their mother’s tone was kind, without censure. “You see, my husband?” She touched his sleeve. “Your sons have joined you at table, just as you requested.”

 

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