Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Aiden Wright, unfortunately, found himself at his least favorite place, a cèilidh. He typically avoided parties and gatherings at all costs. If he was being honest, Aiden avoided leaving the castle entirely, except to lead his men in battle, but on the rare occasion one of his sisters begged for his attendance at their castle, Aiden would make an appearance.

The party tonight was a celebration for Aiden's younger sister Keira and her husband Christian, the Lady and Laird of Doyle. The couple recently welcomed another bairn, which was apparently cause for celebration for nearly all of the Highland clans. Couples danced and chatted happily throughout the large room while Aiden sat at the far end of a dreadfully long table and wished he was anywhere else.

Thankfully, his rather permanent scowl and fearsome reputation kept the majority of guests from approaching him to talk. All he wanted was to sit and enjoy the smooth whiskey that his brother-in-law, Flynn, procured for him. Flynn was married to Aiden's other sister, Astrid, and could always be counted on to find a decent whiskey. Even better, he knew when to leave Aiden to himself.

Aiden spent the better part of the evening swirling his drink and staring into the light, amber-colored liquid. The whiskey was pleasant, aged well certainly, but he had better stored in the cellar at his castle. Another reason to stay home.

Finally, Aiden looked up from his whiskey glass and quickly glanced around the room. Not particularly interested in most of Highland society, he almost missed the radiant young lass in the center of the room.

She was enchanting, standing tall and proud over the ladies near her. Her body moved gracefully to the music that Aiden suddenly heard for the first time all night. Lost in his own mind until that moment, Aiden was drawn into the present by the pale-skinned goddess. A slight sheen of sweat dotted her neck as she spun throughout the room. Aiden had a desperate urge to lick a droplet from her throat.

Aiden continued watching her move, her powerful and athletic figure had no trouble keeping up with the fast beat set by the musicians. Her long, dark brown hair was unkempt from both her lithe dancing and her joyous laughter. She must have been surrounded by comics because her bright smile never dimmed.

The long waves of her hair looked like they had once been tightly braided down her back but were now flying around her as she moved. Aiden's eyes followed her as she threw her head back with a loud guffaw and found that mess of hair strewn across her face. Somehow still maintaining her grace, she worked to corral her tresses without missing a step.

The lass seemed oblivious to nearly everyone else in the room. The dance and her friends captivated her whole attention. What would it be like to be the center of that woman's attention? Aiden could only imagine how her joy and light would feel if focused on him. Aiden thought he might like to find out, at least for the night. It had been a very long while since he had a woman in his bed, and never one so enthralling.

Caught up in the woman's luminous orbit, Aiden didn't notice his sister sitting down next to him. "I would avoid that one," she said smartly into his ear.

Annoyed that he had to drag his gaze from the dancing lass, Aiden curtly replied, "Why?"

"That's Valorie Grant." At Aiden's blank stare, Keira continued, "Laird MacCrimmon's only daughter." Aiden's sister had clearly forgotten Aiden avoided Highland society as much as possible. He only knew Laird MacCrimmon by name and certainly didn't know his kin. "Surely you've heard about her?"

"I havenae, so why don't ye tell me what I'm supposed to know?" Aiden answered sharply.

"Well, she's got a bit of reputation, ye ken. She just broke off a betrothal to Laird Toohey, nae a year since she ended her betrothal to Laird McLeod. Anyone looking for a serious betrothal is stayin' away. People think she doesnae want to be wed at all."

Aiden returned to watching the lass, Valorie. He rolled her name through his mind; he liked it. He liked it even more that she didn't want to be married. Valorie Grant was becoming more and more intriguing.

Noticing her warning wasn't having the intended effect, Keira continued her arguments, "Ye need to find a bride, Aiden; it's been long enough. Surely there's…"

"I will never get married," Aiden interrupted coldly. There was a reason for his reputation after all, and everyone would do well to remember it, even his sister.

Keira, however, didn't take his tone for the warning it was and continued to argue, "Ye must do this for the clan, Aiden and for yerself. Ye're the laird now, and ye need the company. I hate thinkin' of ye alone in that castle. Ye can't push everyone away."

"Watch me," Aiden replied. He didn't mind the solitude; it was one of his favorite things now. The thought of having another person to care for, to worry about, to protect, sat uneasily in his stomach. He could scarcely protect himself from the horrors of this world; he could not be responsible for someone else. No, marriage and love were not for Aiden, not anymore. Not after what happened.

Aiden's sister, unaware of his inner turmoil, smiled happily at her husband down the other end of the table. Christian was swarmed with guests and his council members but was focused solely on his wife. That singular focus was exactly what Aiden was desperately trying to avoid. A distraction like that would leave both Aiden and a wife open to harm.

Keira rose from the table with final words to Aiden, "Mother said the council is goin' to get you a bride within a month if ye daenae find one soon. Ye need a wife, Aiden, and Valorie Grant cannae be her."

Well, sister, I think Valorie Grant may be exactly what I need.

Valorie was having a delightful night. The musicians were playing dancing music, the food was delicious, and the company was entertaining. She made her rounds around various groups of people, chatting to all the lairds and ladies as she should, but it was her own choice to do so. Valorie knew most people would have heard about her latest scandal already, but she strode through the room smiling with her head held high.

A few times she had seen her father talking to younger lairds she knew to be unwed, but she wasn't going to let that spoil the evening. It would surely be difficult for him to find a third laird for her to marry. Especially so soon.

Valorie hoped she had at least another year, maybe even longer. Maybe this could be her life, joyous cèilidhs where Valorie could choose who to dance with, what to wear, when to eat, and when to rest. In his anger, her father had not advised on any of those things tonight, and Valorie had never felt freer.

Carefully extricating herself from a conversation about crop yields this season, Valorie noticed her friend, Margaret, standing off in the corner of the room. Margaret was the only daughter of Laird McMurray, and since coming of age, she was a regular at celebrations like this.

"Margaret, what are ye doin' over here?" Valorie asked, approaching the younger woman.

"Hidin', of course. Faither has been relentless tonight in introducin' me to lairds," Margaret responded glumly. Valorie had heard rumors their clan was in desperate need of a strong alliance.

"Yer brothers are still unwed as well, right?"

"Aye, but Faither has… different expectations for them," Margaret replied politically. But Valorie was deeply familiar with the disparity in expectations for future lairds and ladies.

"Of course, he does. Everyone is always goin' to expect somethin' from ye, and they will rarely agree. They will try to choose for ye, but ye are the one who has to live with those choices. Wherever ye end up needs to be a place ye can tolerate."

"I want to help the clan, but Valorie, some of these lairds! I was talkin' with one, and he drank so much whiskey he fell asleep mid-conversation. I was in the middle of a story and looked up to find him droolin' at the table!" Margaret whispered passionately, and Valorie roared with laughter.

"That's nothin' — my first betrothed was obsessed with these disturbin' little sculptures that he collected. I found him one night in the dark whisperin' to the wee things. I swear he took one into his rooms that night!" Valorie confided.

Margaret giggled in response, and Valorie was pleased to have lightened the mood for the younger woman. She knew how terrifying it was to come of age as a laird's daughter, and Valorie didn't want anyone else to go through what she did.

The pair spent a little more time gossiping about all the embarrassing behavior they had witnessed from lairds but were ultimately interrupted. One of Margaret's brothers approached with a stern look at Valorie. Putting a firm hand around his sister's arm, he dragged Margaret away.

"Valorie Grant is nae a woman ye should be emulatin', Margaret!" Valorie overheard Margaret's brother whisper harshly as they walked away.

Shaking off the insult, Valorie fixed a bright smile on her face and went to find her most recently ex-betrothed, Kenneth. A surprising friend, of all things. Despite her father's assumptions, the pair had ended their betrothal amicably. Kenneth had his sights set on someone else, and Valorie wanted her independence; neither was truly happy with their arranged marriage.

"Dance with me Kenneth; let's get these tongues waggin'," Valorie quipped when she found him at one of the tables.

"I'd be delighted, me lady," Kenneth laughed and led them into the fray of dancers. Kenneth held her loosely as they moved gracefully around the room.

"My faither will be horrified to see us dancin' together so soon after we called off the betrothal. Don't let him see us!" Valorie joked. Kenneth chuckled, but before he could respond, an exceptionally tall, but harsh-looking man approached them.

"May I?" Without waiting for Kenneth's acceptance, the cold stranger took Valorie's hands and swept her away to dance. Even with his permanent frown, the man was striking. Valorie was tall herself, but this man towered over her with a lean strength. Strong cheekbones and a sharp nose defined his face.

As they spun across the dance floor, Valorie found herself inexplicably drawn back up to his eyes. The dark brown orbs were focused intently on her, seeming to search her face for something. Yet, his eyebrows pressed in, betraying the frown he still wore. They must have looked like quite the pair with Valorie's sunny smile still fixed on her face.

The man's golden hair flopped across the worry lines that marred his forehead. The wrinkles and light dusting of silver hair near his temples did nothing to diminish the man's attractiveness. He was either older than Valorie assumed or had lived an exceptionally worrisome life. Either way, Valorie was fascinated.

On another pass around the dance floor, Valorie forced herself to look away from this man and observe the room instead. She saw her father had stopped his other conversations and was watching the scene with glee. Bitterly she thought, Great, he must be a laird then. An unwed one, I'm sure.

As she continued glancing around the room, she noticed something else. Half the room was openly watching them, and the other half was pretending not to watch. Their emotions ranged from shock, to fear, to her father's pleased grin.

"I knew I had caused some people's curiosity, but this is too much. I apologize for their starin' at us…" Valorie sighed. She paused, waiting for her dance partner to fill in the blank where his name should have been.

"Aiden, and I'm sure it's me they're starin' at. It must be the first time I've gotten off my chair at such an event," Aiden replied in a dangerously deep voice as he pulled Valorie closer. Valorie didn't have a chance to be impressed by his voice when he first cut in on Kenneth, but it echoed in her mind now.

Pressed closely together as they moved, Valorie could feel Aiden's breath lightly against her hair. Aiden held her far more closely than Kenneth had. Despite his confident dancing, his breath was getting heavy. Valorie felt her chest straining as well but not with exertion. Aiden's closeness was causing her heart to pitter-patter in a way she'd never felt before. Neither of her betrotheds ever caused her to react this way. Embarrassingly, she could also feel her face and neck heating with a deep flush.

They had barely spoken, but the combination of Aiden's gravelly voice and the strong way he held Valorie against him had her desperate for something she didn't entirely understand. She thought he might be affected as well, but his arms were stiff around her. He was a skilled dancer, but Aiden was… restrained. He never let himself just feel the music the way Valorie did.

Before Valorie could tell him to just let go and enjoy himself, the song ended, and Aiden took a measured step away from her.

Valorie turned to walk away, but before she took another step, Aiden reached out and stopped her by the arm, "Lovely dancin' with ye, lass. I'll be seein' ye again soon," Aiden promised with a light caress against her inner wrist.