Never Seduce a Scot: The Montgomerys and Armstrongs (5 page)

Eveline had escaped unnoticed, but they would be looking for her even now. Perhaps to hide her. Perhaps to present her to the man who would be her husband.

She’d watched enough lips to know that with the earl in residence, any act of disobedience regarding the royal decree would be considered an act of war against the king.

Finished with her perusal of the Montgomery clan, she reclined on the ground, closing her eyes briefly against the wash of sunshine. When she reopened them, she focused on the blue of the sky and the softly drifting clouds.

Here she could escape for just a little while, silence surrounding her, but in the deep recesses of her mind, she could conjure the memory of what music sounded like, and as she stared at the yawning blue canvas above her, she could swear that music danced through her ears.

“Look up the hill, to your right,” Teague said sharply.

Graeme yanked his head up and then focused in the distance where Teague directed as the drawbridge slowly began to grind its way down.

He almost missed the slight figure and then when his
gaze swept back over it again, he frowned and turned back to his brother, wondering why on earth Teague would have called his attention to it.

“Is that a person?” Teague demanded. “What’s he doing up there alone on the hill?”

“Afraid she’s going to come down here and knock you off your horse?” Bowen drawled.

“She?” Teague said in disbelief.

“ ’Tis a lass,” Bowen said, nodding his head in the direction of the distant yellowish blob.

Graeme strained forward again. “How can you tell at this distance?”

Bowen gave them both mocking glances and then shook his head in dismay. “Think you any men run around in yellow dresses?”

Teague lifted his eyebrow. “Well, ’tis the Armstrongs, so I suppose anything could be possible.”

The men around them laughed, and then the drawbridge hit the ground with a thump, stirring up dust around the horses. When Graeme glanced up the hill again, he could no longer see the girl. How had she disappeared so quickly?

He urged his horse ahead, focusing his attention forward, ready for the impending confrontation. It was the truth he’d rather face battle outnumbered three to one than have to go meekly into the Armstrong keep and join himself to this clan in marriage.

It appalled him on every level. His da would be turning over in his grave. It was a dark day for Montgomerys everywhere and it would be a day long remembered in their history. If he had his way, the entire event would be stricken from any oral or written accounts henceforth.

But of course he couldn’t very well do something so permanent with a wife. As tempting as it may be.

He rode into the courtyard to see Tavis Armstrong
standing beside the Earl of Dunbar. Graeme wasn’t startled to see the king’s man there, though he’d honestly expected the king himself to attend since this was of such importance to him.

Graeme reined in and sat astride his horse, staring down at the chieftain of the Armstrong clan. Tavis stared back, and then beside him appeared his two sons, though Graeme didn’t know which was which. The last time he’d encountered the Armstrong whelps, he’d sent them packing after a brief skirmish in the dead zone—the small plot of land that lay between the Montgomery and Armstrong borders. It belonged to the McAlpins, but they’d long since abandoned it due to the proximity to the warring clans. It was a tiny sliver of land, a mere fingerling of their holding, and it was no big thing to keep to the south and away from the feud.

Tavis flinched first, a fact that brought Graeme satisfaction. He’d take a victory no matter how insignificant. He might have been forced to venture meekly onto Armstrong land, but he damn sure wouldn’t allow any Armstrong to intimidate him.

Tavis took a step forward, cleared his throat, and said, “Welcome to our keep, Laird Montgomery. You and your brothers are welcome inside. Your men will find accommodations in the outer perimeter where tents have been erected for their use. Food and drink will be provided for all.”

For a moment, Graeme didn’t speak. Then he glanced to his brothers and gave the signal to dismount. Graeme swung himself over his horse and dropped down.

Tavis motioned several of his men to take the horses and lead them to shelter in the stables.

And there they stood. Montgomery warriors face-to-face with Armstrong warriors. They bristled with dislike. The Armstrongs looked as though they’d just
welcomed the devil into their sanctuary and well, maybe they had.

Such a thing had never been accomplished in the history of their clans. Never had they stood so close without swords drawn and much blood shed. Graeme’s hand itched for wanting to grip his sword, and his throat ached from wanting to bellow a war cry.

“I do not like this,” Tavis said quietly, his voice steady with a thread of steel. “As God is my witness, there is no part of me that agrees to this madness.”

Graeme nodded, appreciating the older man’s candor. When he spoke, he was just as blunt. “I don’t like it any more than you.”

“You sacrifice nothing,” Tavis bit out. “There is nothing for you to dislike. You walk away with my daughter and you give up nothing in return.”

Graeme lifted an eyebrow as anger crept up his nape, seizing the back of his skull. He had to work to keep from losing his temper. It took all he had not to lunge for the other man. All he could see was his da’s face and stare at the man whose father was responsible for murdering his da.

“Think you I do not? I am saddled with a defective wife, one who will never bear me heirs. I give up much. I give up
everything
.”

“She’s not defective!” one of the Armstrong sons roared as he leapt forward.

Teague and Bowen drew their swords in a split second and stepped in front of Graeme to ward off attack. Their arms shook, and Graeme knew what it cost them not to just run the Armstrongs through on the spot.

The entire situation had the potential to explode at a moment’s notice. The two sides were too eager to have any excuse to shed the other’s blood.

“That’s enough,” the Earl of Dunbar barked. “The king would be most displeased. He wants peace and it’s
peace he shall have. When this wedding is done, an oath will be sworn between the two clans and a treaty will be signed in blood. Any breach of the treaty will be viewed as an act of treason against the crown. Your lands will be forfeit and you’ll be branded outlaws and hunted as such.”

“Brodie, stand down,” Tavis said to the son who’d roared in anger. “Aiden, put your sword away.”

Brodie glared at Graeme as if he wanted nothing more than to spit Graeme on his sword right here and now. Graeme gave him a slow smirk that clearly said, “Try it.”

“She’s worth ten of you,” Brodie bit out as he backed away.

He and Teague slowly resheathed their swords, but both kept their hands on the hilts.

Tavis held up his hand, and he looked suddenly weary, lines of age creasing his forehead. He looked like a man who’d waged war with the very devil. Graeme couldn’t feel any sympathy. Not when the man’s father had murdered Graeme’s own father. Not when his clan had lost so much over the years to the Armstrongs.

“Come inside,” Tavis said in a tone that conveyed just how much he loathed having to issue the invitation. “My lady wife will have drink and refreshment after your journey.”

“Indeed, and I should like to meet my prospective bride,” Graeme said in a mocking voice.

Brodie’s lips turned into a snarl again, but Tavis silenced him with a quick look. He motioned to Graeme and his brothers, and they walked inside the keep, the earl standing between the two groups as they filed into the great hall.

A petite woman rose from her chair by the hearth and laid aside her sewing. It was obvious that she must be
Tavis’s wife, though she didn’t look to be a woman of any significant age.

Fear engulfed her face even though she tried valiantly to hide it, and it left Graeme disgusted, for he’d never raise arms against a woman. No matter that she was the wife of his enemy, she should be accorded the respect and courtesy due her station.

He walked forward, hoping she didn’t turn and run screaming from the room, but she held her ground and returned his stare without flinching.

“My lady,” he said, making a deep bow.

When he lifted his head, he reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it. He raised the back to his lips and brushed them barely over the top in a gesture of respect.

“You are Graeme Montgomery,” she said in a strained voice.

“I am,” he said solemnly. “And you are Lady Armstrong.”

“Robina,” she amended. “After all we are to be … f-family,” she stammered out and looked ill for saying the words.

To be honest, they made him just as ill. Family? Never. “Robina, then.”

He turned to his brothers. “These are my brothers, Bowen and Teague.”

“You have a sister as well, do you not?” Robina questioned.

Graeme’s expression hardened. “I would never bring her here. She is home and well guarded. She is young yet, and I would not have her exposed to a potentially … hostile … situation.”

“And yet I am forced to send my daughter into the bosom of our enemy,” Robina said in a near whisper.

“My lady, I do not wage war against women. Your daughter will not die by my hand nor the hand of any of
my clansmen. As the wife of the laird, she will be afforded every courtesy due her position.”

Robina didn’t look heartened by his vow. She looked like she wanted to weep.

Graeme turned, surveying the nearly empty hall. It was as if every Armstrong had vacated in anticipation of the Montgomerys’ arrival. Only he and his brothers, the earl and Tavis, and the laird’s wife and sons were present.

He then focused on Tavis because he truly didn’t want to upset the laird’s wife more than she already was. She bore no blame for the sins of her husband and his kin.

“I would like to see the woman I’m supposed to marry. I would make her acquaintance before we are wed.”

“Laird Montgomery,” Robina interjected, turning his attention back to her. Her expression was pleading. “Please, may I speak to you plainly of my daughter before you seek to have her in your presence?”

“Speak your mind, my lady. I will take no offense if none is intended.”

“Has no one told you of her?”

“He called her defective,” Brodie snarled from across the room.

Robina whitened, though Graeme couldn’t tell if it was in anger or upset.

“I have heard she is … unwell,” Graeme said in an effort to be kind.

“Speak the truth,” Teague snapped. “ ’Tis widely known the lass is daft and cannot bear you heirs. ’Tis madness for this marriage to take place. It can solve nothing.”

In that moment, Graeme truly believed that if Robina had been armed, she would have tried to kill his younger brother. He stepped automatically into the pathway between her and Teague to ward off any confrontation.

Brodie began to argue loudly while Tavis turned on
Teague. The hall erupted in a fury of yelling, and insults flew. Only the presence of the earl prevented bloodshed.

“Enough!” the earl roared. “Clear the hall!” He pointed at Armstrong’s sons and then Graeme’s own brothers. “Out. Leave them to discuss the matter before them.”

“I’ll not leave my brother to be murdered in this viper’s nest,” Bowen snarled.

Graeme held up his hand. “I am well protected, Bowen. Take your leave. Go check on the men and make sure all is as it should be. The sooner this is done with, the sooner we can be back on our own lands.”

Reluctantly, his brothers and the Armstrong whelps took their leave. Then Graeme turned back to Robina. “Now, my lady, speak your mind. I grow impatient.”

Tavis came to stand beside his wife, almost as if daring Graeme to show her any disrespect in speech or look.

“Eveline is … different. She’s not daft. ’Tis God’s truth, I do not fully understand the depth of what has afflicted her. When she was younger, three years past, she took a fall from her horse into a ravine and remained there three days before we were able to find her.”

Graeme frowned. “Are you saying she wasn’t born this way? That whatever affliction she has was because of an injury?”

“Aye. Well, nay. She wasn’t born this way. There has never been a sweeter child. Intelligent. Sharp witted. Full of life and laughter. She would have made any man a wife he’d fight for. But she was ill for a length of time after her fall. And she was never the same afterward. She doesn’t speak. Hasn’t spoken since she awakened from a deep slumber of over a fortnight.”

“ ’Tis all? She doesn’t speak?” Some husbands would be grateful for such a gift.

Robina shook her head. “I’m trying to tell you that she won’t make you a fit wife. You can’t treat her as you
would another woman. Please, if you have any mercy at all, you’ll treat her kindly and leave her alone. She does not deserve to be punished for what has been wrought by her kin.”

Anger was starting to prickle over his flesh and up his nape until his jaw was tight.

“I don’t make war against women and the innocent,” he growled. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

“By all that is holy, Montgomery, if any harm comes to my daughter when she is in your care, there is no rock you will be able to hide under,” Tavis bit out. “I will come for you with the full force of me and mine and all that ally with me.”

“I would think less of you than I already do if you did not do so,” Graeme snapped. “Now enough with the endless prattle. I have no more desire to wed a child who isn’t in full control of her faculties than you have to see your daughter wedded to me. But neither of us has a choice. ’Tis better to have it done with before things are said and done that cannot be retracted.”

“In that we are agreed,” the earl said from a few feet away. “You’ve stated your position, Tavis. There is naught else to be said. Fetch your daughter so that Graeme may meet his bride.”

C
HAPTER
6