When they approached Aiden, he was frowning, and she knew a reprimand was forthcoming so she purposely didn’t look at him, because if she didn’t see what he was saying, then it didn’t really happen.

Perfectly logical in her mind.

Not that Aiden was ever mean. He was just less patient than Brodie. And he worried for her. If he had his way, she’d stay in the keep and never wander far. She’d never forget that it was he who’d found her in the ravine and that he’d feared the worst. That she had died.

She walked into the keep, flanked by her brothers, and she had to admit, it bolstered her courage because being between them, she knew she’d never come to harm.

As soon as she entered the hall, she came to an abrupt halt, her gaze automatically finding the man who commanded the most authority. It was obvious—at least to her—who the chieftain of the Montgomery clan was.

Power clung to him. It was an almost visible aura surrounding him.

She swallowed nervously and her palms grew damp. He was big. Really big. Taller than even her brothers. He was broad-shouldered, with an equally broad chest, more narrow at the waist, and his legs were solid masses of muscle, as big around as she was. Maybe her first impression was a wee bit exaggerated, but he looked like a mountain to her.

His medium brown hair was unruly. It hung to just below the base of his neck and curled at the ends, flipping this way and that. It was obvious he hadn’t a care when he had it shorn. Unlike his brothers—or at least she assumed the two men with him were his brothers—he wore his hair shorter.

One of the men with him was beautiful. It seemed odd to describe a man with such a feminine term—and there was nothing remotely feminine about him. But he hadn’t a single flaw that Eveline could see. His hair was as dark as a raven’s wing and his eyes were a vivid blue. It was a certainty that Eveline had never seen his equal when it came to fairness of face. It was hard to look away from him.

The man who stood on Graeme’s other side was nearly as large as his two brothers, and he had a lot of similarities to the really handsome brother. In fact, of the three, Graeme was probably the least blessed with a face that women would fawn over or that poets and bards would compose lyrics about, but still she was drawn over and over to Graeme’s features. The lines of his face. The strength in his deceptively casual pose.

Nay, he wasn’t beautiful like his brothers, but there was something even more arresting about his appearance. Something that intrigued her and drew her to look at him again and again.

To the unguarded eye he seemed relaxed, but to her he seemed tense and ready to strike at a moment’s notice

And then the most amazing thing happened. As she stood there gaping, nearly hidden behind her brothers, an odd vibration echoed through her ears.

It was faint—so faint that she thought perhaps she’d imagined it. But no, there it was again. A deep timbre—a voice! Low-pitched like some of the other rare sounds she was able to hear, though until now she’d never been certain that they were real. She’d thought they were only memories of sounds she’d heard before her world had gone silent.

She pushed around her brothers so she could more squarely see the room, and she searched for the source of that sound. That beautiful sound.

As soon as she made her presence known, the others looked her way, and it was then she saw that Graeme’s lips were moving. It was him she was hearing!

Uncaring of how forward or discourteous she might appear, she rushed forward, eager to be closer, wanting more of this delicious sensation in her ears.

But his lips stopped moving the moment she halted in front of him. They turned down into a frown as he stared back at her, almost as if he found her lacking.

Color suffused her cheeks and she lowered her gaze, suddenly shamed. Of course he’d find her lacking. He would have heard the stories and here she came boldly rushing forward, not even refreshed or appropriately dressed to greet her prospective husband. He must think her extremely disrespectful.

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.