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Prologue

If there wasone thing that got under Laird Gabriel McAllister’s skin more than anything else, it was the spring festivities in the highlands. Sure, he was keen on the sporting events and feats of strength and agility. He also didn’t mind the feasts presented on each occasion with the roasted duck or pheasant. Even the freshly corked bottles of whiskey were something to be enjoyed now and again.

But the spring events were more than just a gathering of social classes and clans. It was the one time of the year mothers worked non-stop at pawning off their daughters to the highest bidder. So while many saw these gatherings as the social events of the year, he loathed them the way a child loathed their tutors.

Flinching as he scanned the crowded dance floor, he found himself slipping further into the safety of the shadows. After all, what input could he have on such things? It made no difference to him which flowers decorated the stately homes of the Highlands. Nor did he pay any heed to the whispering of politics and scandals that drifted from one conversation to the next.

Rolling his eyes, he sipped his dram of whiskey and shifted away from the dance floor. The last thing he wanted was to be drawn out on the floor by some undesirable woman hunting for a husband. An occupation he was not too fond of filling for just any woman.

Any other year, he would have passed on the gatherings and found any excuse for a hunting trip out of the city. But his stomach twisted as he finished the last of his dram and set the crystal glass on the table beside him.

Pulling in a long deep breath to steady himself, Gabe’s skin tingled. It was as if a million eyes shifted to him. It didn’t help that he was the youngest Laird in the room. Nor was he eased at the notion of him being one of the wealthiest. The eyes of the mothers flickered to him as if he was the only candle burning in a dark room.

“Laird McAllister, I must say it is quite the surprise to find you here.” The soft sing-song voice perked his ears and although music swirled around him, the feminine voice was the only thing he heard.

“Lady Campbell,” Gabe said bowing as he extended his hand to her. With an arched eyebrow, she returned the bow and slipped her hand into his. Drawing her hand to his lips, he tasted the silk gloves covering her knuckles.

“Might I inquire as to what brings ye here?” she asked. It was easy enough to read between the lines. Lady Campbell, with her fine clothing and intoxicating perfume that tickled Gabe’s nose was one of the few people Gabe could stand talking to.

Flashing her a crooked grin, Gabe shrugged. He often found Lady Campbell amusing. She had no daughters to pawn off onto another which made her much like him, a bystander to the customs and mating rituals of high society.

“I heard ye had pheasant,” he answered playfully.

“Best way to a man’s heart and all,” she said pinching his scruffy chin between her finger and thumb. For a moment he wished he would have shaved. But then again, who was he kidding. There was no reason for him to be too presentable. The more rugged and undesirable he looked, the more he was left alone.

“And how are ye doin’? Havenae seen ye in a while. Laird Campbell is well I take it?”

“Aye,” she said with a nudge of her head. Gabe watched her eyes shift away from him to the cracked door to the right of him. A billow of smoke pooled out of the doorway. Instantly the sharp aroma of cigars assaulted his nose. “Ye’ll find him in there if ye wish. Although…”

She paused and turned her attention to the twirling of gowns on the dance floor leaving her sentence unfinished. He knew she’d find a way to rope him into answering why he lingered on the sidelines or why he still wasn’t married.

“I think I’ll take my leave,” he answered quickly before she could say another word.

Lady Campbell’s eyes lit up as her lips rolled up like a scroll at the corners. She nodded and bowed politely. Gabe turned on his heel and moved hastily toward the double doors. The strong odor of cigars mingled with the sweet fragrance of brandy. The instant he slipped through the doors he found himself relieved, despite the smell and heavy smoke lingering like a cloud above the men’s heads.

Scanning the room, he paused a moment. Every couch and chair was occupied. It was clear that he wasn’t the only man at the party to be a little annoyed with the ritual continuing in the other room.

A few eyes shifted toward him, but it was nothing compared to the lingering gazes of would-be wives and their chaperone mothers or brothers. Straightening his shoulders, he moved deeper into the room making a beeline for the drink table. He knew he’d be needing a few more drinks if he were to face the vultures again.

“Aye, I swear to ye, she’s of age now.”

Gabe’s ears perked as he finished pouring his drink. Shaking his head, he understood all too well that the men were just as eager to release their daughters to someone else’s care. Many a marriage was arranged in back rooms such as this.

Drawing the glass to his lips, Gabe’s heart fluttered as the voice beside him continued.

“Elena will make a fine wife and provide a slew of sons. Tis in her blood to do so. After all, we’ve all seen the stock that her older sisters have obtained.”

Liquid sprayed out of Gabe’s mouth, burning his lips in the process. Wiping the wetness away, he shifted around the pillar that separated him from the voice. His mouth dropped and his eyes widened. Although he had hoped he’d run into Darragh McPherson, he never suspected the meeting would be under such circumstances.

Finding himself enthralled by the conversation unfolding before him, he inched closer. Every fiber of his being shot off as if he were a keg of gunpowder waiting for the spark to ignite him.

“Aye, McPherson, I ken yer family well,” the other man replied. Try as he might, Gabe couldn’t spy around the shrub cloaking the man McPherson spoke to. The voice was weary and crackling and unfamiliar.

“I’ve met all yer nieces and nephews,” the mystery man said as Gabe caught a glimpse of the man’s elbow. “But are ye sure about what yer askin’? I’m nae in my prime and surely ye’ll want a better suitor for such a bonnie lass.”

“I assure ye, she’ll make a fine match for ye. She’s strong and will help around the estate,” McPherson said patting the man on the shoulder. “Just say the word and I’ll arrange everythin’. After all, we both ken yer lookin’ to take and I’m lookin’ to give.”

The very warmth of Gabe’s body drained from him as his stomach twisted into knots.


Tags: Lydia Kendall Wicked Highlanders Historical