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.

And she was happy here. It had taken her a long while to sort through the confusion of her accident and subsequent illness. She hadn’t understood why her hearing had been taken, but she’d been taught not to question God’s will.

Now, she had a place. She’d learned to understand much of what people said by watching their mouths. She wished she had the courage to speak, but with no way to know how she sounded—or if she could even form the words after not speaking for so long—she remained silent, locked in her quiet world with only the memory of certain sounds to echo softly in her head.

But no longer would she have that place here. In her clan. Among her kin and the people who loved and accepted her.

Instead she would be sent off to an enemy clan.

A shiver stole down her spine. What would they think of her? Would they be cruel? Would they hate her simply because she was an Armstrong? Would they despise her because of her defect?

Would they taunt her and call her mad and daft? Would they go even further and cause her harm, thinking that she carried evil spirits within her?

She twined her fingers together in front of her as she hurried back to her rock. No matter that Brodie would know precisely where to find her. It was the only place she could think to go when she needed comfort and peace.

As she stared over the rushing water, she realized that she’d no longer have this sanctuary. She’d no longer be able to come and go as she pleased and sit on her rock for hours absorbing the serenity of her surroundings.

Nay, she’d marry into the Montgomery clan. Become the very thing she’d been taught to hate. And while her father let her do as she liked, her husband might not be as understanding.

CHAPTER 4

The keep had been in a constant flurry of activity for days. On the eighth day after the delivery of the king’s message, the Earl of Dunbar arrived as the king’s representative to witness the marriage that would force peace between the two warring clans.

Tavis greeted the earl in the courtyard, and once the earl’s horse was taken away, the two men entered the keep and strode to where food and ale were laid out on the high table at the end of the great hall.

“Alexander extends his regrets that he will be unable to be present for the marriage,” the earl said after he’d sipped from one of the jeweled cups.

There was a gleam in the earl’s eye that told Tavis the king had never had any intention of making an appearance for the wedding he’d demanded. And with his absence, there was no one for Tavis to petition to put a stop to the whole mess.

Dunbar had great favor with Alexander and, in fact, was the highest-ranking earl under the king’s rule. He and Alexander were staunch allies and friends, and the fact that the king had sent his most powerful earl to attend the wedding told Tavis of its importance to their monarch.

“He knows not what he does,” Tavis ground out.

Dunbar lifted one eyebrow, threw back a long swallow of the ale, and then eyed Tavis intently as he leaned back to sprawl in the chair. He looked indolent and arrogant, staring Tavis down as if trying to intimidate him. Tavis hadn’t survived as chief of one of Scotland’s largest strongholds by backing down from a challenge.

He met the earl’s gaze unflinchingly.

The earl sighed and set his goblet down with a sharp bang. “If ’tis any consolation, Tavis, I told Alexander he was mad. I’m well aware of what happened to your daughter, and you and she have my sympathies. She’s not suited for marriage, but unfortunately, you’ve only one daughter and Alexander has it in his head that the only way to force peace between two of his strongest clans is by giving your daughter to your enemy. He feels that if she’s wed to the Montgomery laird, you’ll never raise a sword against them.”

“And what guarantee do I have that they won’t come after my clan?” Tavis demanded. “Of course I wouldn’t raise a sword against the man who holds the life of my daughter in his hands. But what do I have of his to hold in return?”

The earl rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “ ’Tis a good question and one I wonder if Alexander considered. Perhaps he thought the marriage enough to forge an alliance, no matter how wary it may be. He wants peace. Now that we’ve signed a treaty with England, Alexander must focus on internal problems with rebellious chieftains. He needs allies, and the Armstrongs and Montgomerys have always been loyal to the crown, even as they despise each other.”

“I would be willing to sign a treaty with the Montgomerys,” Tavis said stiffly. It was the hardest thing he’d ever said in his life. Swallowing his pride was painful, but for his daughter, he would do anything, even humble himself before his enemy. “They can’t want this marriage any more than we do. ’Tis as you said. Eveline is not suited for marriage to any man. ’Tis why the betrothal to Ian McHugh was broken. Graeme Montgomery would … crush her, and I cannot bear the thought of that.”