Chapter One
Scottish Highlands
1370 A.D.
It was only a touch of his hand, the slightest and briefest of touches, and forbidden, but Elizabeth desired it. Glancing up, she met his gaze and saw something there she dared not to hope she would see. Her throat tightened and her mouth dried, no words able to come out.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb along the inside of her palm.
The sound of her name on his lips sent shivers and chills through her body and brightened her heart. Elizabeth MacLerie enjoyed the sensations for the moment, knowing that none of it could continue.
Their game of chess complete, he stood from the stool and stepped away from the table, waiting for her to follow. And, damn her heart, she did. Trying to let nothing of her nervousness show to those whom she—they—passed, Elizabeth understood that something had changed between her and James in that momentary caress.
A line had been crossed, one they both knew should not be breached. But, with only a touch of his hand and a whisper of her name, they had.
She had been in love before, just once, and it had come upon her like a storm—with wildness and breathlessness and foolishness and danger. This time, love had crept up on her, surprising her with its quiet, silent approach. Though, this time as that, the danger remained a constant.
Elizabeth followed James, hoping to speak to him, but his father called to him and she watched as he joined his parents and Ciara Robertson in some discussion.
Elizabeth now knew what heaven and hell were like—she was living them both. Glancing across the clearing and meeting his gaze, she saw the possibilities of both in his blue eyes as they each paused for a moment before looking away.
Her heart pounded and her body ached every time they spoke. His calm manner and deliberate actions appealed to that part of her that wished to avoid any of the melodrama that had threatened her happiness and her place in her family just a year before. His polite and careful approach to her, never overstepping, never demanding, promised that life with him would find her content and happy. Now on the road, journeying back to her home in Lairig Dubh and spending so much time in his company, she could convince herself of everything working out in her favor.
She could hope.
All it took, though, was one glance across the clearing to show her that she’d really entered the realms of hell. James Murray was betrothed and contracted to marry her closest friend, Ciara Robertson, and not her. Elizabeth was the first to look away, as Ciara claimed his attention once more.
His betrothed.
Her closest friend.
If she had looked away at that moment, she would have missed the glance Ciara threw in another direction. Elizabeth did not have to turn to know who stood in the shadows at the edge of the camp. The expression that flitted across Ciara’s face just then, a mix of longing and love and loss, meant that Tavis MacLerie watched them even as she did.
It would not surprise Elizabeth to hear the stern voice of Father Micheil echoing through the clearing and warning all of them about the cost of the sins they so eagerly committed and would so eagerly commit if given the chance. But the one thing that held them back and kept all their wayward, sinful longings—each for someone not meant to be theirs—under control was honor.
Ciara had broken off a number of betrothals and she was, Elizabeth understood, determined to follow through with this one. Not because she loved James, for she did not, but to uphold her promise to her parents and the others depending on this marriage and the benefits it brought to two families and other allies.
James was the heir of his father and William Murray needed this advantageous marriage to rebuild his family’s holdings and to make alliances with the powerful MacLerie and Robertson clans. James understood the realities that required this marriage, no matter where his heart wished to go.
Tavis MacLerie had buried one wife and had counted Ciara as a friend, never realizing that her true feelings had little to do with remaining his friend. Elizabeth had lived through every stage of their relationship, from the tumultuous heartbreak when Ciara asked him to marry her and he refused her, to the day she accepted James’s offer of marriage and giving up any hope of marrying Tavis. Though now, from one look at his face, Elizabeth knew he regretted that he had not accepted her offer and her love, for he loved Ciara even if he did not admit it.
So, instead of following their hearts, each of them would honor their loyalties and commitments. Each of them would end up married to someone they did not love, all for the sake of honor and duty.
Elizabeth recognized that even if James were free to marry, she would not be the woman his parents sought for a marriage. Her parents would offer a small dowry and she had not the elevated connections and relatives that Ciara offered.
And, if word of her disgrace from a year ago got out, her shame would keep her from being his. Though Connor had promised to protect her reputation, she worried every day that her behavior and the results would come to light. If James’s parents learned of her fall from grace, they would never allow her to become their son’s wife.
With so much of the outcome inevitable, Elizabeth decided to enjoy the few moments that they could snatch away and to remember them...and him always. The following days’ travel provided her with several special moments, ones she would hold in her breaking heart.
But, when they all reached Lairig Dubh, Elizabeth understood the way things would be, even if her heart refused to accept it.
Lairig Dubh
Lands of the MacLerie clan
When his amber eyes flashed with anger, James Murray could well understand why Connor MacLerie was still called the Beast of the Highlands. And unfortunately, the Beast’s ire was aimed directly at James.
“These questions are coming very late into things, would you not say, James?” The calm tone of the laird’s voice did nothing to assuage James’s sense of impending doom.
