by Maya Banks
She took a step back, her hands shaking at her sides, and then she chanced another glance up at him, hoping that he would speak again, even if it was to voice his displeasure. She craved that sensation in her ears, something to break the endless, suffocating silence she lived in.
Graeme stared down at the tiny slip of a lass in front of him, taking in her heightened color and the sudden shame that had crept into her eyes.
Christ’s bones, but the lass was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t imagined—how could he have?—that his intended bride would be such a bonnie lass.
She was tiny, almost fragile in appearance. He could likely break her bones with a simple squeeze. Her hair was like a wash of sunshine, only a little paler. Honey blond with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. They reminded him a lot of Bowen’s eyes, eyes he’d inherited from their mother. And they were fringed by dark lashes, long, making her eyes seem even larger against her small face.
He’d expected a … child. Perhaps even someone who resembled a child. This was no girl barely on the cusp of womanhood. She was a woman full grown with gently curved hips and a bosom that, although not overly large, was well beyond the initial budding of a girl in her youth.
He had to remind himself that she wasn’t … normal. Or at least she was not as a normal woman should be. He still wasn’t sure the extent or even the nature of her condition. There was much he needed to know.
He hated the bleakness in her expression. There was something in it that did funny things to his chest. Was she worried that he would deny her? That he would reject her in front of her family and his?
No matter his distaste for the union and the circumstances forced upon him by his king, the idea of hurting such a sweet-looking lass made him ill. Whatever was wrong with her was not of her making, and she was an innocent pawn in a calculated move by the crown.
“I assume you must be Eveline,” he said in a gentle voice.
Her chin notched upward, and to his surprise, she smiled back at him, her eyes lighting up—her entire face lighting up—so much so that it made him catch his breath and stare back in awe at her beauty.
“I am Graeme Montgomery. I am to be your husband.”
She sobered a bit at that last, so it was evident she had basic understanding of the situation. Her brow wrinkled up, and then she cocked her head to the side as she studied him with those startling blue eyes.
He found himself fidgeting under her regard, which made him scowl. Her eyes widened as she took a hasty step back toward her father.
Hell, he hadn’t meant to frighten her. He glanced over to the Earl of Dunbar, allowing his displeasure to show. The earl, however, looked amused, another thing that Graeme didn’t find pleasing.
Then, to Graeme’s utter shock, Eveline stepped forward and slipped her small hand into his much larger, much rougher one and curled her fingers trustingly around his.
When he turned from the earl to stare back at her, she smiled, flashing straight, white teeth.
Laird Armstrong’s groan could be heard throughout the hall. Robina Armstrong put a hand to her mouth and Eveline’s brothers just looked really, really angry.
Whatever reservations the Armstrongs had about the marriage, it was evident that their daughter had no such misgivings.
CHAPTER 7
Looking back, Eveline wasn’t at all sure what had changed her mind about Graeme Montgomery. It was an impulsive gesture on her part and one that she might well regret. But then there wasn’t anything to be done about her marriage. She’d watched enough mouths to know that. Her fate was inevitable, so why not embrace it?
Graeme fascinated her. It wasn’t so much that she heard his words, but his voice was like a low hum in her ears. Pleasant. A shaft of sunlight into her dark world of silence. There were other sounds that she’d thought she’d imagined, but now she wondered if she truly did hear a limited number of things. And if so, why?
Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to what her mother was saying to her. It was deeper sounds. She was positive of that. She couldn’t remember hearing a woman’s voice since the accident. Certainly no screaming. High pitches. And music, which she missed the most, was something completely lost to her.
But deeper sounds. At times she swore she could hear slight noises when Brodie was angry and was surely raising his voice. Once when her father had been angry with her for wandering too far from the keep, she’d been almost certain she’d heard or at least felt a vibration in her ear from his yelling.
It was all a very mystifying puzzle that fascinated her. It made her want to go seek out her husband-to-be again, just so she could make him talk to her. Anything was better than the yawning silence that held her captive. Any sound, no matter how insignificant was welcome.
Her mother appeared in front of her, grasped her shoulders, and shook her gently. “Eveline! Are you listening to me?”
Eveline blinked and stared back at her mother. They were standing in her mother’s chamber while Eveline was being fitted for a gown to wear to her wedding.
Robina had the entire keep in an uproar with wedding preparations, and she had no fewer than six women attending Eveline to make sure the dress was sewn quickly enough for the ceremony.
“What were you doing down there?” Robina asked.
There was gentle concern in her mother’s eyes. Worry for Eveline and genuine curiosity as well.
“You must learn to temper your responses,” Robina chided. “Graeme Montgomery isn’t a man to be trifled with. I fear what he’d do if you were to have such a breech in propriety in his keep. I don’t know the manner of man he is. He swears he’s no abuser of women, but one never knows the full character of a man right off, and you must realize this.”
Eveline frowned at that. Graeme hadn’t seemed quite so frightening after she’d had time to study him close. His features were set in stone. Some might even say he looked as though he would snap a man in half if the man so much as looked at Graeme wrong. But Eveline had sensed something else entirely and she couldn’t even be sure what. What she did know was that he’d been exceedingly kind and patient with her.
He hadn’t berated her for her rude intrusion. He hadn’t demanded that she back away. He hadn’t struck her for her forwardness. He’d spoken kind words to her. Hardly the words spoken by a true monster of a man who planned ill for his new wife.
Surely she wasn’t wrong about that much.
But then she wasn’t a judge of character. It was a fact she avoided most people simply because she didn’t want to be faced with derision, fear, or mockery. She didn’t have much experience with people at all outside her parents and her brothers.
She hadn’t been wrong about Ian McHugh, though, and she’d keep reminding herself of that fact. Ian had fooled even her own father, not to mention her brothers.
She reached for her mother’s hands, pulled them up to her heart. Robina looked startled, her brow wrinkling in confusion. Eveline squeezed her mother’s hands and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.
When Eveline pulled away, her mother looked dazed. Her eyes burned with sudden understanding and shock.
“You want this. You want to marry Graeme Montgomery.”
Eveline squeezed her mother’s hands again and then slowly nodded.
Robina backed away and then slumped into the chair by the small table near the window. “I never expected this. I’ve been so afraid. I don’t want you to leave our care and protection. You’re our baby, Eveline.”
She looked so distraught that Eveline’s heart clutched and her lips twisted unhappily.
“I should have known. I should have realized that you’d want what all normal girls want. A husband. Children. A life of your own. I just hadn’t imagined you were capable of it—of understanding your duties. Do you even understand, Eveline?”
Her mother looked anxiously up at her, her gaze seeking information from Eveline’s expression or her eyes or
perhaps from something else entirely.
There was a lot Eveline didn’t understand. She understood well enough the day-to-day things, but there were certainly some matters that hadn’t been explained to her. But she wasn’t about to upset her mother even further by shaking her head.
Surely the business of marriage wasn’t that difficult, was it? She’d watched her mother and father her entire life. Her mother was quite adept at running a household and capable of running her husband as well when it suited her.
Eveline might not have practiced what knowledge she’d gained, but it didn’t make her any less capable.
She looked at her mother and simply nodded and let her mother make of that what she would.
Robina sighed and rubbed wearily at her forehead. “I want you to be happy, Eveline, and I hate to think you’ve not been happy here. We’ve only sought to protect you. I hope you know that.”
Eveline smiled, allowing all the love she felt for her mother to show on her face. Robina’s reaction was swift. She rose and then hurried forward, enfolding Eveline in a fierce hug.
Eveline knew no more of what her mother was saying, but it didn’t matter because Eveline understood. Everything she needed to know was right here in her mother’s hug.
“We need to have words, Armstrong,” Graeme said as he faced Eveline’s father.
Tavis stared back at him with weary eyes, and for the first time, Graeme felt a twinge of sympathy for the older man, but he quickly squashed it. The Armstrongs didn’t deserve his sympathy. They’d given no mercy to his clan and he’d give none in return.
“Come, let’s sit and have some ale. Then we’ll speak of what’s on your mind.”
Graeme motioned for his brothers to remain back as he followed the laird to the high table on the dais at the opposite end of the great hall. He was surprised Armstrong bothered to show him the courtesy of placing him where honored guests would be seated when in attendance.
A serving woman appeared with a tankard of ale and two goblets. After filling them, she slipped away, leaving the two men alone at the table.
The earl had retired, evidently convinced that there would be no overt hostilities. Bowen and Teague stood across the room staring belligerently at Eveline’s two brothers. Graeme gave them a sharp look and then dipped his head in the direction of one of the lesser tables to indicate they should sit down.
Then he turned his attention fully on the Armstrong laird.
“ ’Tis clear that neither of us wants this union.”
Tavis’s lips tightened and he started to speak, but Graeme’s expression stopped him.
“But I’ll treat your daughter well. I’ll treat her with more respect than you and yours ever afforded my clan.”
Anger glittered in Tavis’s eyes, but he continued to stare at Graeme in stony silence.
“I was truthful with your lady wife. I do not wage war against the innocent, and your daughter is perhaps more innocent than most. She’s clearly different. Do not fear my treatment of her, for she will be well provided for. However, do not expect our marriage to be an open invitation for you to step foot on my lands.”
“You’d have me send my daughter off, never to see her again?” Tavis demanded. “How will I know if you’ve upheld your word if I never see the proof of your claim?”
“I will allow her to visit upon occasion only if it’s convenient and I can be assured of no foul play, but no Armstrong, save she, will ever set foot over our borders. ’Tis a blood vow I swear and a blood vow it is, because if it should ever happen, blood will be shed.”
“Know then that no Montgomery, save one who is escorting my daughter, will ever be allowed back on our lands. Consider this an aberration and one afforded to you only by order of our king,” Tavis said through his teeth.
“Good enough,” Graeme said. “We’ll sign the treaty, give the king what he wants, but we have an understanding.”
“Aye, we do.”
“Now tell me more about Eveline. Does she always act so oddly?”
Tavis started to scowl, but Graeme held up his hand. “I mean no insult. You saw that she came to me and was not afraid. You and her kin acted as though this was unusual behavior for her.”
Tavis nodded grimly. “Aye, it is. I’ve never seen her act thusly. She is usually quite shy and content to be left alone, and moreover, ’tis something I prefer. Not all in our clan are as accepting as others when it comes to her affliction. I would not have her ridiculed or mocked or even potentially harmed by those who view her as a devil’s instrument.”
Graeme’s eyebrow raised. “Devil’s instrument?”
“You know well what people think when faced with someone like Eveline. You’re a fool if you think it won’t happen in your clan. My daughter has two things against her going in. One, she’s an Armstrong and will be reviled for nothing more than her parentage. Two, she’ll be considered daft, touched, addled, and many other less kind words will be attributed to her. ’Tis a dangerous situation that you will have to monitor closely. If the wrong people have it in their head that she’s Satan’s instrument, they could well kill her.”
“Is she all of those things? Daft? Touched?” Graeme asked in an even voice.
“I do not know,” Tavis said wearily. “There are days when I think she understands perfectly what goes on around her. She’ll respond when we talk to her. She seems to grasp certain situations. And then other days, it’s as if the rest of us don’t exist and she’s in her own realm.”
“And she never speaks?”
Tavis shook his head. “Not since the accident and resulting fever. I know not why. I don’t know if she had fever of the brain and it damaged her in some way. Or if she was so deeply affected by the event that she cannot even speak of it.”
He leaned forward, his expression serious. “She cannot sit a horse. It’s important you not make her try.”
Graeme frowned. “Cannot sit a horse? Why has she been neglected so? I don’t have a litter to carry her back to my keep and I’m damn sure not going to make her walk.”
“It’s not that she’s been neglected. Indeed, she was an expert horseman. Never saw anything quite like it. From an early age, she just commanded the attention of horses. They gravitated toward her. Liked her. She could make them do anything. And ride like the wind.
“She used to scare me spitless. She’d swing up on a horse bareback in her bare feet, her hair going in all directions, and she’d ride hell-bent for leather across the meadow, back and forth. I was always convinced she was going to kill herself, but she enjoyed it so much that I couldn’t bear to make her stop.”
Tavis sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “And then it happened. Just as I feared. She took a bad fall. Horse was spooked, pitched her right off his back and she fell into a deep ravine. It was three days before we found her, and by then she was gravely ill. She had an injury to her head and a fever that lasted an entire fortnight. After that she was never the same and she’s deathly afraid of horses. You needed to know so that you never try to make her mount.”
“How the hell am I supposed to get her back to my keep?” Graeme demanded.
“I’ll provide a cart for her to ride in,” Tavis said.
Graeme let out a disgruntled push of air. His bride was becoming more of a pain in his arse all the time. It was a marriage to prevent further bloodshed, but to him it felt like a death sentence.
“I don’t know that she can ever make you a proper wife,” Tavis said in a low voice that sounded precariously close to pleading. “Don’t force the issue. I wouldn’t have her hurt or ill-treated for anything in the world. She is dear to all of us. You are receiving a gift, Laird. Whether you choose to believe so or not, you are receiving something more precious than gold.”
CHAPTER 8
Graeme climbed the steps to the chamber he’d been assigned. As the apparent guest of honor, he’d been afforded a room in the upper wing while his brothers had been consigned to the common sleeping hall where many
of the warriors slept on cots lining the walls.
Since his room was next to the Earl of Dunbar’s, he wondered if the earl had been the one to insist this respect be given Graeme. Armstrong would have likely wanted them all to camp outside the walls of the keep with the rest of his men. Or better yet, never have set foot on Armstrong land to begin with.
Graeme pushed open his door, only wanting to bed down for the night. Tomorrow he’d wed and then leave for home to face the inevitability of his future. Or lack thereof. He wasn’t one to focus on the negative, but for the first time he felt a certain bleakness, because any dream he had of heirs and passing his legacy on to his own bloodline was gone. As was any thought of revenge against the clan who’d murdered his da.
When he stepped inside, he was surprised to see candles already burning and a fire laid in the hearth. But he was even more surprised to see Eveline perched on the edge of his bed, her expression guarded as she stared up at him.
She wore the same dress she’d had on earlier in the day. While Lady Armstrong had dressed for the occasion to greet her guests—albeit unwanted ones—Eveline had first greeted him in a simple frock that was similar to a work dress worn by the other women in the clan. And perhaps because it was so simple, it had only drawn a more stark comparison between Eveline’s beauty and the plainness of her apparel.
But then Graeme wasn’t certain there was a single item she could wear that would diminish what was clearly a beautiful lass.
Eveline looked to be worried that he would be angry over the intrusion. And he should be. It was a breech of his privacy, but it was also improper for her to be alone with him in his chamber on the eve of their wedding. Her family would be outraged if they knew of her whereabouts, and it could call into question his own honor that he so jealously guarded.
And yet he couldn’t bring himself to show any temper toward the lass.
Unsure of what he should do, he continued into the room, closing the door behind him. After a moment he turned to look at her, and he could see a hint of color rise in her cheeks, reflected in the soft candlelight.