Never Seduce a Scot: The Montgomerys and Armstrongs (3 page)

The Montgomerys lived to harass, steal from, ambush, or spill the blood of any living Armstrong. Her father and brothers could swear no differently. They’d run a Montgomery through with a sword for no bigger sin than breathing.

None of it made sense to her, but then she was supposed to be a delicate little flower of a woman who had
no head for such matters even when she was believed to be in her right mind.

She rubbed absently at her forehead, feeling one of her headaches coming on. They always started at the base of her skull and worked to behind her ears, pressure building until she wanted to scream for the pain.

But she couldn’t vocalize anything. She had no way to measure how loudly or softly she spoke. She wanted no one to know of her inability to hear. And so she remained solidly entombed by silence.

She felt rather than heard someone’s approach. Since the loss of her hearing, her other senses had heightened. It bewildered her, but she found especially that she could feel things more keenly. Almost as if she picked up the slightest vibrations in the air.

She turned to see Brodie approaching, his expression grim, but it lightened in relief when he saw her sitting on her rock.

Brodie was the one she’d most miss if she was truly to wed the Montgomery chieftain. She could barely breathe for wanting to cry and her throat knotted uncontrollably.

He said something as he approached, but it was lost on her because his mouth was shielded by a limb. When she continued to stare at him, he made a show of letting out a sigh and then sat on the rock beside her, just as he’d done so many times before.

Brodie always knew where to find her. Knew all her secret hiding places. There wasn’t anywhere she could go that he didn’t already know of.

He reached for her hand, swallowing it up in his much larger one, and he squeezed. His lips started to move again, and she strained forward so she could see what it was he said.

“You’re needed in the keep, little chick.”

She loved that he called her that and she didn’t even
know why. It was an endearment, almost always said with an indulgent smile. Only today, there was no smile. Only deep desolation in his eyes and lines of worry etched into his brow.

Not wanting to cause him any more upset, she put her other hand in his and waited for him to stand and pull her up beside him. It was better if she not act as though she knew. Perhaps she could play dumb about the entire thing. Surely if the king knew how unsuitable she was for marriage, he wouldn’t sanction such a thing.

That thought cheered her considerably as she walked beside her brother back toward the keep. Her father had always said that the king was a fair and just ruler. That he’d brought peace to the highlands by signing a treaty with England.

If his representative was to be in attendance for the event, then surely after seeing her, he would call a halt to the marriage and report back to the king her unsuitability for the role assigned to her.

C
HAPTER
3

Eveline tried to remain calm as Brodie led her into the great hall, though it was hard when her heart pounded furiously against her chest.

Her father was pacing before the hearth and her other brother, Aiden, sprawled in a chair at the large wooden table, rage burning in his eyes as his foot tapped a sharp staccato on the floor.

Eveline honed in on her mother and father, wanting desperately to know what it was they said. She pried her hand from Brodie’s and moved so she could better see.

“Tavis, you cannot allow this to stand!”

Eveline’s father grasped her mother’s shoulders, holding them tightly. He stared back at her with tortured, angry eyes.

“The king has decreed it, Robina. I cannot naysay him.”

Robina yanked away, turning more toward Eveline, her eyes red and puffy, distress radiating from her in waves. Then her gaze lighted on Eveline and her expression grew even more stricken.

She hurried forward, putting an arm around Eveline’s shoulders, squeezed her tightly, and then bore her forward. Eveline could feel her mother trembling against
her, and she worked even harder to keep her own countenance serene as they approached her father.

Tavis lifted his hand, and it shook noticeably as he put it gently to Eveline’s cheek. Unable to stand the grief in his eyes, Eveline turned her face into his palm and rubbed.

“My baby. My most precious gift. Our king has turned against us.”

He dropped his hand down and put it to the back of his neck, then turned away. Eveline frowned, not wanting to miss any of what he might be saying.

“You must beseech him, Tavis,” Robina said, touching her husband’s arm to turn him back. “Perhaps he knows not of Eveline’s condition.”

Tavis turned back, his brows drawn together, the blackness of his scowl reminding Eveline of a spring storm.

“How could he not? He was here just months after Eveline was stricken with illness. He saw that she was … changed. He offered his sympathy that she would never be able to make an advantageous marriage or have children of her own. And now he’s sending her to our worst enemy as a sacrificial lamb meant to force peace between us?”

Eveline felt the blood drain from her face and she hoped her mother didn’t notice her flinch at her father’s words.

“Look at her, Robina. She doesn’t even understand,” Tavis said, raising his hand in a slicing motion toward Eveline.

“You’ll not say a word against her,” Robina said, her expression so fierce that Eveline knew she must have said the words just as fiercely. “She is a sweet and good girl. She’s not daft. She can sew beautifully. She has basic understanding of things. She’s helpful to the clansmen,
and she always has a smile for everyone. That
monster
will crush her.”

“I am not disparaging her,” Tavis roared. And this time, Eveline knew he had roared because she could feel the vibrations, but also, there were certain sounds—not many—that she could actually hear.

Deep-timbred voices. Nothing high or shrill. Nothing normal or monotone. But every once in a while, she experienced fleeting hearing.

“I love her as much as you, Robina. Do you think I
want
to give my daughter in marriage to my sworn blood enemy?”

Her mother took a step back and put a knotted fist to her mouth. Her father advanced on her, his face purpled with rage.

“I don’t have a
choice
. To go against my king is to sign all our death warrants. We’ll be branded outlaws, and any mercenary wanting to gain a purse will come after our heads.”

“God help us all,” Robina said, her face crumpling, her eyes so stricken that it hurt Eveline to look at her.

Her brothers had remained quiet. Perhaps they had no opinion or, more likely, they were loath to step in between their parents when emotions ran so high.

But Eveline couldn’t allow them to torment themselves so. If she was meant to be the token sacrifice in an effort to stop the clans from warring, then her fate was sealed, and there was little to be done. She didn’t want her family to suffer so much anguish.

She took a step forward, slipped her hand into her father’s. He blinked in surprise and made an obvious effort to temper his emotions as he stared down at her solemn face.

And then she smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. She patted his shoulder as if to tell him it was all right.

His entire face softened, but the sadness in his eyes
grew. He looked suddenly so much older, his skin grayer and his shoulders slumped in a way she’d never seen her warrior father stand.

He put his hand around the back of her head and drew her toward him to press a kiss against her forehead. She could feel him speaking against her flesh, but didn’t want to jerk away so she could see what it was he said.

When he finally did pull away, his lips were moving and she strained to catch up.

“… sweet lass. You’ve always been. You’re my heart, Eveline, and damn the king for taking my heart away from me.”

She turned to her mother, but before she could kiss her cheek as she’d done her father, Robina swept her into her arms, hugging her fiercely.

Her mother was devastated, and Eveline was at a loss as to how to console her. How could she when she was still in shock herself?

It had never occurred to her that she would still marry or be expected to perform as any other normal woman. She’d effectively hidden behind her deafness, using it as a shield. A lie. Deception.

Oh, those were horrible words and they made her feel terribly guilty. She wanted to close her eyes so she could read nothing further from anyone’s lips.

The floor jumped beneath Eveline’s feet, and she turned before the others did to see who would appear at the doorway of the great hall.

“A message, Laird,” Niall said as he strode forward.

His expression was intense, and his body language screamed that this was important. In his hand was a scroll, but Eveline couldn’t see the seal to know whom it may be from. Was it another message from the king?

“ ’Tis from Laird Montgomery.” Niall’s lips curled in distaste as he spoke the words. “I wouldn’t allow his
representative in and instead bore his message inside to you.”

Aiden rose from his seat, his lips twisted into a snarl as he came to stand beside his father. Brodie stepped closer to his mother and Eveline as if seeking to protect them from whatever would be unveiled in the missive.

Tavis broke the seal, pulled the scroll downward, and scanned the contents, his frown deepening all the more as his gaze drifted lower.

Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes glittering as he carefully rolled the message back up.

“Graeme Montgomery has sent word that he will arrive for his bride according to the king’s dictate.”

The reaction from her brothers was immediate. Brodie pushed forward and her gaze yanked to him as he spoke.

“This is a farce! The king cannot be serious. Surely he isn’t so evil as to send a lamb among lions.”

“Montgomerys? On our land?” Aiden asked, his expression clearly aghast. “ ’Tis something sworn never to happen lest the earth be bathed in blood.”

Her neck ached from wrenching back and forth from person to person to keep up with the conversation, but she lost much. Everyone was talking at once. She only understood bits and pieces, most of it exclamations, oaths, and speculation as to why the king would do such a dastardly thing.

She’d never seen Graeme Montgomery. It was God’s truth, she’d never seen any Montgomery at all. It was hard not to picture an aging, paunchy man with a bulbous nose and hideous features. She’d never bothered herself with any conversation dealing with the Montgomery clan, because they simply did not interest her. She knew they were her clan’s sworn enemies and that her father would die before ever allowing a Montgomery onto his land.

Her father and brothers were warriors who were unmatched by any other in skill and strength. It was boastful of her to think so, but she’d seen nothing to alter her biased opinion of her kin.

So she’d always felt safe from any outside threat because the Armstrongs jealously guarded their borders, allowing no one to pass unless given permission to do so.

Once, long ago, such an encroachment had happened. The Montgomerys had raided and many Armstrongs had paid with their lives. Including Eveline’s grandmother. Her grandfather, who was then laird, had grieved mightily and had died avenging his wife’s death. He’d killed the Montgomery laird but was struck down by another of the Montgomery warriors.

So many deaths, and Eveline had no idea what had started it all. She’d only heard bits and pieces of the story in passing over the years. She should have listened harder when she had her hearing, but for her, the Montgomerys were monsters of the dark. Almost a fictional beast that bards carried tales of. They certainly had never been a threat in her lifetime.

And now she would be delivered into their fold. Sent away from the safety of her clan and her beloved family. Married. Expected to be wife to a man she considered a myth.

She nearly shivered before catching herself. She didn’t want to upset her mother by allowing her fear to show.

Turning away, she left the great hall once more, not even bothering to see if she should stay. She often did things such as that, leaving abruptly and on a whim. No one seemed to even blink over it any longer, and if it was thought odd once, now it was accepted behavior.

She simply needed to sort through this upheaval to her life. How could she face someone not of her own clan? Her clan loved her even if some were wary of her affliction.
There were some she’d caught murmuring prayers when she crossed their paths. Were they worried that her daftness was easily passed to others? That if they touched her, they too would be afflicted?

The mischievous part of her wanted to reach out and touch them, just to see if they’d react as if being burned. Or if they’d run screaming in the opposite direction to seek out the priest.

But then she promptly felt terrible because they were still her clan, and it wasn’t their fault that she was different. They didn’t know any better, and Eveline hadn’t done anything to change their opinion. And most were very kind to her. Many went out of their way to do things for her they thought would make her happy.