Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

M ackay Castle, the wedding of Laird Cathal Mackay

"We are surely going tae be hanged for ruining this wedding, Yvaine," Evelyn Sinclair hissed at her younger sister. "We shouldnae be here."

"Och, will ye stop fretting," Yvaine replied evenly. "Dae ye nae remember why we came? We're supposed tae be having some fun. Besides, our clan was invited. Ye ken that. If Faither had accepted, we'd have come here with him."

They were slowly moving through the many people who already filled the corridor. Laughter and boisterous conversations met their ears, the women giggling, and the men guffawing. Tankards spilled their contents as the merrier guests hardly seemed to care where their drink ended up, and a faint trickle of music danced on the air as the sisters made their way to the great hall of Mackay Castle.

Evelyn brushed her long, dark blonde hair behind her ear and moved closer to her sister as they continued to maneuver through the crowd. "Aye, well," she whispered. "There was never a chance o' that happening. He's nae the same anymore, so distant and secluded. He can barely look us in the eye, never mind anybody else."

Yvaine looked at Evelyn sadly. "He did lose his wife, Evelyn."

"And we lost our maither," Evelyn countered. "But it has been a year already. He cannae mourn forever."

"It isnae the same fer him. Ye ken that he blames himself. She was murdered tae punish him, and he cannae get past that."

Evelyn could hardly argue, and perhaps her anger for her father's lack of affection masked the sadness she felt for him and for herself. Their mother and father had adored each other, anyone with eyes had seen it. After her mother's murder, her father, Laird Donald Sinclair, had not been the same.

She did try to understand how hard it was for him, but she and Yvaine had lost someone precious too. They had needed him over the last year. They had needed his love and support as they dealt with their own feelings of grief. But he had not been there for them. A part of him had died with his wife, and Evelyn had wondered, over the last months, if he would ever return from the darkness that still surrounded his being.

The further into the castle they ventured, the more her nerves grew. This was not something she or Yvaine would normally do. Holding integrity in high esteem, they didn't break the rules. Evelyn fingered the necklace at her throat. It was a gift from her mother, and thus, more precious to her than anything else she owned. Yvaine was right. Their clan had been invited, but her father had declined, and thus, none of the Sinclair clan were expected to be there. More than that, though, Donald Sinclair did not know his daughters had sneakily left the castle that evening and travelled the couple of hours to attend the wedding feast of Laird Mackay.

It had been Yvaine's idea.

The previous afternoon, the sisters had been walking in the gardens of their father's castle. Yvaine had been trying to cheer Evelyn up, but there was nothing she could say to lift her spirits.

"Life isnae fair," Yvaine had said. "What Faither is making ye dae isnae fair either."

Evelyn had shrugged. "We need the alliance. What am I supposed tae dae? Run away? I have nay choice, Yvaine. I have tae marry him."

"But ye havenae even met him. Faither is being cruel."

Evelyn heaved a huge sigh. "I will meet him in a few weeks when we travel to Laird Audor Gunn's castle," she had murmured, a little frustration creeping into her tone.

The sisters had walked for a little while longer, when Yvaine had suddenly gasped, spun to look at Evelyn, and blurted, "I have an idea."

Evelyn had tilted her head, raised her eyebrows, and looked at Yvaine knowingly. "Ye cannae convince him. I've tried. He willnae listen."

Yvaine shook her head. "It's nae about Faither. It's about Laird Mackay's wedding."

Evelyn frowned then. "What about it?"

"We should go," Yvaine had blurted excitedly. "As a rebellion against yer destiny, we can sneak out and go tae Mackay Castle. I've heard it's going tae be a huge affair. Laird Cathal Mackay is our ally, and besides, it will only take an hour or so tae reach them across the border o' the clan lands."

At first, Evelyn had been appalled. "That is a crazy idea. What if we get caught? What if Faither finds out? What if someone sees us?"

While Yvaine was someone who ordinarily would never go against her father, or anyone else for that matter, she surprised Evelyn with her answer. "Who cares? What possible punishment could be worse than forcing ye tae marry a man ye dinnae even ken? Ye deserve tae have a little fun and forget about everything. A final revolt before yer life is nae longer yer own."

Evelyn had still been unsure. They would be taking a huge risk. But upon seeing Yvaine's eagerness and knowing that even suggesting such a thing went against her character in every way, Evelyn had realized her sister was doing this for her. She was willing to risk getting into trouble just so Evelyn could have one night of freedom.

"All right," Evelyn had finally agreed.

Once in the great hall, Evelyn's nerves settled a little. Perhaps it was the joyous atmosphere of laughter, or the sight of people dancing to the thump of the bodhran drum, the fiddle, and the tin whistle.

"Ye see," Yvaine smiled, handing Evelyn a drink, "are ye nae glad we came now?"

"I am," Evelyn replied. "But if Faither discovers it, I'm going tae tell him it was all yer idea."

Yvaine burst into laughter. "And I will tell him it was yers."

The two sisters giggled at each other, and feeling a little more relaxed, they began to mingle with the other guests. Evelyn discovered that people had travelled from across the country to attend the wedding. Laird Mackay was a good man with a fine reputation. Unlike many other lairds, he was neither bloodthirsty nor power mad, which, she supposed, was one of the reasons her father had allied with him many years before.

Evelyn and Yvaine had just left from conversing with a young lass, when Yvaine found herself grabbed by a hand. Evelyn watched as a tall and handsome man jerked his head toward the middle of the room.

"Come and dance with me?" he yelled over the music and boisterous noise of the gathering.

The question was asked while he pulled Yvaine along with him, and thus, she hardly had a chance to refuse. But she was laughing as she went, and watching her go, Evelyn smiled widely at her sister having such fun.

Feeling a little out of place, given she was now left to stand by herself, Evelyn carefully threaded through the crowd and made her way to the back corner of the room. Picking her spot, she stood and watched the guests having fun with laughter and rowdy conversation. But even as she was surrounded by such gaiety, a sadness slowly washed over her as thoughts of her future arose in her mind. Her father had arranged her marriage for the betterment of the clan. They needed this alliance, she knew that, and that had been the reason that she had not argued or fought his decision.

Self-sacrificing as always, Evelyn knew she had to put the clan before her needs and desires. Her mother's murder had been a punishment. A dreadful circumstance that Evelyn did not want repeated. Marrying Laird Ardor Gunn would ensure that, and thus, what choice did she really have?

"What's a pretty young lass like yersel' doing standing alone in the corner?"

Evelyn had been too lost in her thoughts to see anyone approach, but at the sound of that question, she turned her head and lifted her eyes. A handsome man stood there smiling down at her. A little taken aback at his forwardness, Evelyn did not know what to say in reply, and thus, stood there gawping at him.

"Cat got yer tongue?" he drawled, his mouth forming a lob-sided grin.

"I, er, nay. It's just…" Evelyn floundered.

"Ye've never spoken tae a man ‘afore?" he joked, taking a step toward her.

Still not certain of her words, and feeling caught off guard, she nodded and shook her head at the same time.

This elicited a deep chuckle from the man's throat. "Is that an aye or a nae? I cannae tell with yer head bobbling about like it's nae attached tae yer neck."

"O' course, I've spoken tae a man ‘afore," she said when she finally found her voice.

"Just nae such a handsome one." He grinned widely.

She couldn't tell if he was joking or just arrogant, but this interaction did not feel particularly pleasant, so she deduced the latter. Not wanting to be rude, her mind scrambled to find a way out of her circumstances.

"So here ye are, a beautiful lass, and here I am, a handsome man, both alone at the ball. I declare that such a circumstance is a tragedy."

"I'm sure there are plenty o' lasses here who would be delighted tae have the pleasure o' yer company," Evelyn replied carefully, hoping the man would take the hint to find another lass to pursue.

The man took another step closer, his arm leaning on the wall beside her as he towered above her. "And what about ye?" he growled huskily. "Would ye nae like the pleasure o' me company?"

"That's nae what I meant," she said quickly. "It's just, ye ken, there are many lasses here."

"Indeed, there are," he growled again. "But I'm nae talking tae any o' them. I'm talking tae ye. Dae ye nae find me handsome?"

Evelyn nodded just to placate the man, but her heart was thumping with fear and anger at the same time. "Ye are, indeed, a very handsome man." Her words sounded shaky, and she felt her hands tremble with ire. Who daes he think he is tae speak tae a woman like this?

He chuckled again. "Ye're a nervous wee thing. But very beautiful. I'll bet those lips are as soft as heather."

Unconsciously, Evelyn gasped. Could this man be any more rude?

By his raised eyebrows as he waited for her answer, he clearly did not think his behavior rude at all, which was concerning. Perhaps if she just answered him, he would be on his way. If he thought she lacked experience and was not as flirtatious as other lasses he had, no doubt, harassed, he might just leave her alone.

She huffed. "I've never been tempted tae kiss a man who isnae me husband."

His eyes widened at that remark, and clearly surprised, he seemed lost for words. And yet, he still did not leave. Her plan had not worked as she hoped it might, and now stumped, Evelyn could not think of another way to be rid of him. Maybe she was going to have to be as rude as he, and simply walk away.

The man grinned mischievously down at her. "Maybe I could?—"

"I dinnae think the lass is interested," a deep voice came from somewhere behind the leering man's shoulders.

Pushing himself from the wall, the persistent pest turned to look behind him. Evelyn struggled not to gasp again, for the man stood there was not only the most handsome man she had ever seen, he was also huge. He was a great wall of a man, nearly as tall as he was broad, with blonde hair. He had the look of a Viking and his piercing green eyes were currently locked in some kind of battle with the man now standing facing him.

"I dinnae think it's any o' yer damned business," the man growled.

"It is when ye're making the lass feel uncomfortable," her savior, may the Gods bless him, growled back. "And, clearly," he nodded toward Evelyn, "ye are."

"We were just talking."

"Nay," the huge man replied. "Ye were talking. She was terrified. Now, move on, before I move ye on."

For a second, the arrogant pursuer stood his ground, clearly too proud to do as he was told. The huge man then straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest. The action made him look three inches taller.

"Fine," the other man submitted. Trying to maintain his dignity as he shifted, he said, "She's a prude anyway."

Evelyn looked mortified, but relief flooded through her as he turned on his heels and stormed away.

Her savior watched the man go, before turning back to her. Taking a step forward, he gazed down at her with concern. "Are ye all right?" His tone was now far gentler than only seconds before.

For a moment, Evelyn was too lost in his swirling green eyes to answer. He was striking, as though the gods had carved his face by their own hand. Her own face flooded with heat again at what had transpired, and suddenly, she felt the need to escape. She wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Ye must excuse me," she said hurriedly. "I need a breath o' air."

Before he had chance to reply, she darted around him and moved quickly out of the great hall.

Hurrying down the corridor, avoiding the eyes of those merrily celebrating around her, she rushed around a corner. That corridor was far quieter, and with no other people around, she tried the handle of the first door she came to. Evelyn, looking about her and realizing it was a library, stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her. Leaning her body against it, she took in a deep breath.

Pushing herself off the door, she paced back and forth in the room. The experience had unnerved her, and try as she might, she could not rid her mind of what might have happened had she not have been saved. Either she'd have been forced against her will, or she'd have ended up scratching the oaf's eyes out.

But all is good now, Evelyn. Ye are safe. Ye need tae calm yersel'.

Yes, she did. She also needed to go and find Yvaine. It was getting late. They still had an hour or so to travel, and as fun as sneaking away to the Mackay's wedding had been, she did not want her father to discover they had left.

Straightening her dress, she turned to walk towards the library door, when it opened, and the huge, handsome stranger stepped inside. Upon discovering her, he frowned with concern. "There ye are. Are ye all right, Miss?"

Evelyn automatically stepped back. "I am fine. Thank ye."

He shook his head. "Ye didnae look too fine when I found ye. MacKinley is a rake at best, but he has the awareness o' a snail."

A trickle of laughter fell from Evelyn's lips, and, at the same time, the tension that had wound in her body seemed to ease.

"I apologize. I didnae even thank ye fer yer intervention. So, thank ye. He certainly is a persistent man." And a halfwit.

"Aye," the huge man rolled his eyes. "That's putting it mildly." He paused for a second, before looking at her carefully. "But I can understand his interest."

Evelyn's eyebrows went up.

"Nay, please." He lifted his hands in surrender. "I'm naething like him. I'm merely observing the fact that ye are a very beautiful lass. That's all."

She felt her face flush and dropped her gaze at his words. In stark contrast, she did not fear this man like she had the other. His words were kind, and even the way he looked at her was different. His gaze was gentle, whereas MacKinley had leered at her like she was something to eat.

"Thank ye," she breathed, feeling as though it was good manners to acknowledge the compliment.

He took another step toward her. It was slow and measured. He still watched her carefully, as though he was gauging how his approach might affect her. "I couldnae help overhearing some o' yer conversation," he said in a tender tone.

"Really?" Evelyn replied, now feeling a little breathless. Perhaps it was the way he was gazing at her. Perhaps it was the fact that he was indeed, a striking specimen of a man.

"Aye," he said, taking another step. He was now only a few feet away. "I heard ye tell MacKinley that ye've never been kissed ‘afore."

Another wave of heat washed over Evelyn, and again, she dropped her gaze. "I only said that tae be rid o' him," she breathed.

"Is that right?" the man said softly.

Evelyn felt his finger under her chin as he lifted her head. She looked up at him, her heart thumping like a drum in her breast.

"So, ye have been kissed ‘afore?" he continued, his eyes gazing into hers as though he were searching her soul for the truth. Could he see? Could he tell that she was lying?

"I, er. Well." Evelyn flustered. She then shook her head. "The truth is, I have never been kissed."

He took on more step forward and closed the gap between them. "That is a tragedy," he whispered. "Wouldnae ye like tae ken what it feels like?"

Evelyn gazed up at him, her nerves mixing with fear and desire.

"Ye can say nae," he said. "The door is right there. I willnae stop ye from leaving."

But Evelyn did not want to leave. Sparks were flying between them, her heart thumped, her stomach squirmed, and the desire for the man before her was growing by the second.

"I dinnae want tae leave," she breathed.

The man nodded, and then she felt his huge hand resting gently on her slender neck. A second later, his lips were upon hers. As his tongue slipped inside her mouth, exploring, tasting, entwining with hers, she opened her mouth wider and grabbed his tunic to pull him in closer.

Her heart thumped, and breathlessly, she gave herself to him. Their lips clashed together, their tongues roving hungrily as though neither had eaten for days.

His other hand, which had sat upon her waist, now climbed higher and higher, and Evelyn suddenly gasped when his fingers cupped her firm breast. Her nipple hardened, and upon finding it, the man growled as Evelyn moaned.

"Are ye sure ye've never been kissed ‘afore?" he whispered, his hot breath dancing upon her lips.

Evelyn could hardly speak, and while a small whimper left her lips, she shook her head. Threading her fingers through his hair, she caressed his neck, and felt a scar just below his left ear. I wonder where he got that?

It was the strangest thought under the circumstances, but the thought left as quickly as it had arrived as the man continued to speak.

"Then ye must never have been touched ‘afore either," he said huskily, caressing her nipple and making it peak even harder.

"Oh, God," she gasped.

Evelyn was feeling a lot of sensations she had never experienced before. Apart from her heart thumping so hard she thought it might burst from her rib cage, her stomach clenched and twisted, and she felt a moistness at the apex of her thighs.

"I wonder what ye taste like?" he growled again. "I would love tae be the first tae taste ye."

At first, his words did not make any sense. He had tasted her… But the more she thought about them, however, the more she realized what he meant. The man was indeed handsome and huge, and under any other circumstances, she would have been delighted.

Life isnae fair. Imagine if I were nae betrothed tae be married. Imagine if I had the chance tae be with a man who excited me as much as I am excited in this very moment. But ye are betrothed, Evelyn. What the devil are ye doing?

As that thought flew through her mind, Evelyn quickly stepped back. She watched the surprise on the man's face, and then she blurted, "I'm sorry."

Seconds later, she spun on her heels, grabbed the door handle, and ran from the room.

And as he had promised, he didn't follow her.