The Duke's Fiddler Broke His Wrist Before a Dance for 200 — "I Can Play," Said the Girl at the Sink

The Duke of Strathay's fiddler falls from the cart in the castle yard with two hundred tenants waiting in the barn for the Harvest Home dance, the first gathering since the Duke's wife died. Everyone hears his wrist go. Then the girl from the scullery sink puts down her pot and says, I can play. And Mrs Chalmers the housekeeper laughs out loud, because she is the one who locked the girl's fiddle away on her first day. Morag's father was a travelling fiddler who never wrote a tune down. She has his fiddle, his reels in her fingers, and one tune he made only for her mother. The housekeeper has the keys, the inventory and a long memory. And the Duke, who has not stood for music since his wife's funeral, is about to stand for hers. A Highland romance of a scullery maid, a grieving duke and a reel only one person alive can play. Marigold & Pearl tells original period fiction: the castle, the strath and every person here are invented, and everyone in the story is a grown adult. If you love a quiet heroine proved right in front of everyone, subscribe, and another story is waiting.