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PROLOGUE

The lands of Northern Scotland were wild and windy. At the very peak of the Highlands there were dangerous, jagged mountains that threatened to tear through the sky. It was said that only the most vicious giants and ogres lived in these parts, and everyone knew to avoid traveling there if they were sensible. They had been some brave heroes, or fools, who dared to go into the mountains. Few returned, and those that did came back with broken minds and rarely spoke of what they had seen. Below these there were lush valleys and expansive forests filled with wending rivers, clusters of animals, and some of the most beautiful flowers there had ever been. But there were also prickly thistles and poisonous fruits. The Highlands were as deadly as they were beautiful, and the same could be true of its women.

Tovie Wallace was as beautiful as they came. Curls of red hair descended from her head like thick, cloying syrup. Her eyes were as green as the verdant leaves of the forest, her body as slender as a willow, and she suffered no fools. She was 21 and had grown up a great deal over the last few years, more than she had anticipated. She had gone from a girl to a woman, married to the laird of a clan. The Wallaces were a proud family, and their blood spread far and wide, encompassing much of the northern Highlands. It was said to be a great honor to be a part of their family, and when it was announced that Tovie was to marry Fraser Wallace, she was overjoyed.

Fraser was everything a man should have been. He was strong, formidable, and wickedly charming. When Tovie had first met him, she had been disarmed by his smile and had fallen utterly smitten with him within mere moments. A marriage to him seemed like the finest thing that she could ever be blessed with, and she did not do anything to resist the proposal, which surprised her parents to a great degree as she had always been a willful child, often disagreeing with them for the sheer sake of it rather than because she agreed with something that ran contrary to their beliefs.

On this occasion, though, she was happy to leave the home she had always known and go to live with Fraser Wallace, taking residence in his stone castle with a small settlement around it. He had been favored by the elders of his family, who had generously given him the means to prosper, and his clan was all the better for it. At least that’s what he thought. When she had arrived, Tovie had other ideas. She saw many ways in which she could improve their situation and focus on other things. Fraser had a leaning toward fighting, and much of his focus was poured into weaponry and armor, meaning that the clan often resembled a military camp rather than a settlement. There were always duels taking place, and when Tovie awoke in the morning, she was greeted by the sound of clashing steel and grunting warriors, and often to an empty bed as Fraser was usually out there with his men, displaying his military prowess.

Even now, she was sitting in the chamber, idly thinking about how different this place could be if it focused on other areas of trade while Fraser was off fighting some neighboring clan for a reason that she had forgotten. It wasn’t exactly the married life she had anticipated or had been promised when Fraser had ravished her with charm.

“Ye must miss him,” Shara said, offering Tovie a reassuring smile. Shara was Tovie’s handmaid, a woman who had grown up in this clan and had been gifted to Tovie upon her wedding. She was a few years older than Tovie, with straw-colored hair and a ruddy complexion. She was not married yet and had a somewhat skewed vision of what marriage was truly like. Tovie could not judge her too much for this, though, as it was the same vision that she had had before marrying Fraser. It was clear she had taken Tovie’s sighs as a sign of her despair, when in fact, she had merely been wondering how she was going to get Fraser to see sense.

She wasn’t about to reveal her true feelings, though, for she dared not speak out against the dashing laird, who had won the hearts of all his subjects. Even Shara herself had a liking for Fraser, not that she would ever admit it.

“Of course I dae. He is my husband. Once we were married, I began tae wonder how I could ever hae lived without him at all,” Tovie said.

Shara clasped her hands and fluttered her eyelashes, squealing a little. “That’s sae romantic! I wish I could hae a husband picked out for me like ye did. I cannae imagine how lucky ye must hae felt when ye were introduced tae Fraser.”

“I’m sure there’s a man out there for ye, Shara. Dinnae ye take a liking tae any of the warriors? There are plenty out in the training fields during the morning.”

“I dinnae think they would like me,” Shara said, blushing and shaking her head.

“Ye dinnae give yerself enough credit. Ye can give a man a home. Ye can cook for him. That’s more than I can dae.”

“Aye, but ye hae yer name and yer family,” Shara said.

Tovie nodded and pressed her lips together. Sometimes it did strike her that the world was unfair. Names and lineage meant everything, and pleasant women like Shara often had to pay the price. Tovie wasn’t sure what she could do about it, though. It was the way things had been for generations and likely would persist for generations more. A name didn’t mean nobility, though. She had learned that when she had married Fraser.

She had learned a lot of things when she married him.

“Well, if ye ever need help finding a husband, ye just let me know. I will be happy tae make any introductions tae a man ye take a liking tae,” Tovie promised.

Shara blushed again. Tovie doubted the maid would ever come to her with a man’s name, but she felt better for making the offer. It was more than Fraser ever would have done. There were only two types of people he concerned himself with: fellow warriors who could offer him a good fight and join him in battle or buxom women who fluttered their eyelashes at him.

She had noticed it the first time she had visited the clan. A grand ball had been held. Tovie had dressed in the prettiest manner she had ever dressed before. She had put flowers in her hair and wore a dazzling smile to ensure that she caught Fraser’s attention, and she had, for a time at least. While they were dancing together, the world seemed to spin around her, and she felt herself floating so high she was sure she would end up swirling around with the stars, but then she watched him with other women. He wore the same smile, had the same laugh, and it was clear that his attention wasn’t going to be focused on one woman. Tovie had burned with envy, but only for a time. As with so many other things, she took the challenge as an opportunity to prove that she was superior to so many others. In her youth, she had always wanted to be the one to ride the fastest, to jump the highest, to gather the most fruit, and she had more often than not succeeded. When she didn’t, she was never dispirited but only took it as an opportunity to come back and win the next time.

So when she saw that Fraser’s attention was being taken by other women, even though by rights it should have been all on her, she redoubled her efforts to capture it. She tore the flowers from her hair and let her locks cascade down her shoulders while she swayed her hips as she pushed her way through a crowd of women and made her way back to him. She dragged his gaze away from the others and enchanted him, placing her lips inches away from his mouth, teasing him that more was to come.

More did come, and she hoped that once they were married his flirtatious ways would be put behind him. After all, Tovie had to uproot her life for him, so the least he could do was be virtuous and faithful and devoted to her.

It didn’t take long before the intense infatuation had slipped away and stopped her from being blinded. Fraser wasn’t the man she thought she had married. Given they hadn’t known each other for very long, she had filled in the blanks, assuming the best of him. If she had assumed the worst, she would have had more of an accurate picture of him. The charm faded away quickly, and he seemed to grow bored with her. She had assumed a marriage would be a journey they were taking together, but after the wedding, all he wanted was to carry on with his life as it had gone before, only this time he had a woman waiting in his bedchamber whenever he wanted her.

Actually, that hadn’t changed too much from before; it was just that now it happened to be the same woman.

Fraser had no inclination in wanting to get to know his wife or to cherish her. In fact, he treated her as though she was a burden keeping him from having a good time. When he returned to bed, he stank of alcohol and was covered in blood from an intense duel. When he didn’t, she knew that he was in the bed of another woman. When she had first discovered his ways, she had wept fretfully and rued the world for being so cruel. Fraser didn’t care, though. He acted as though it was his right to take whatever woman he wanted, that he was a slave to his desires and could not stop chasing women any more than he could stop breathing, and that as his wife, Tovie was just going to have to accept it.

She stopped crying then, for she wasn’t about to waste her emotions on a man who clearly didn’t care for her.

No, she was going to turn her attention to the clan itself. It suited her if he spent more time away in some battle or another as she would be able to have more influence over the place. Unfortunately, she did not quite have the authority yet, as any major changes required his approval, and he was not going to approve anything that did not feed into his hunting, fighting, fornicating ways. However, Tovie knew it was a project that was going to last a lifetime, and if married life wasn’t what she expected, then she was at least going to pour her energies into something that could bear fruit. It was a shame that her ideas of love had to be tarnished so dramatically, but there was no sense in wishing the world was any different than it was.

Pragmatism was key, and this attitude was going to serve her well.

It was actually on this day when a rider returned to the clan. His face was smeared with blood and his clothes were tattered. At some point, he must have fallen in mud as his clothes were caked in dirt. He ran into the chamber and sank to his knees as he gave Tovie the news in panting breaths.

“The laird…is dead,” he said.

The words dropped like a stone. Beside Tovie, Shara squeaked and lifted her hand to her mouth in shock. Tovie was impassive. She clenched her jaw, only to stop herself from smiling. She knew it was expected of her to mourn, and she would certainly never express glee over a man’s death. However, Fraser had always boasted of how he laughed in the face of death, how he was beyond other mortals because he had the gods on his side, and it had always seemed like hubris to her. Fraser had given his life to war, had vaunted his brutal strength, and was a slave to his appetites. He had made no effort to change them, not even when his wife had begged and pleaded for him to be the kind of husband she had always dreamed of having.

And now she was a widow. This had happened far sooner than she had expected as well, but at least she was free of his adulterous ways. At least she did not have to suffer through the indignity of having to know that her husband was sharing another woman’s bed, probably laughing about his wife behind her back as well. She would be a laughingstock no longer. As a widow and the sole survivor of the family, she had the right to lead the clan, and lead it she would. She was going to change their focus and root out the warriors who only wanted to fight. They were not building an army. There needed to be more arms to their trade, more peaceful relations with their neighbors, and Tovie could be the one to see it through.

What’s more is now that she was a widow, she had the chance to marry again—when the appropriate amount of time had passed, of course. No doubt there would be those quick to judge her for daring to marry another man, and those same people likely would have turned a blind eye to Fraser sleeping with other women, but she would not let these petty opinions affect her. No, she had a chance to love again, and she would take that chance eventually, although the next time she fell in love, she was going to be far more prudent. She had been burned once already by allowing herself to fall into the chaotic inferno of infatuation. The quality Tovie possessed that she was most proud of is that she never made the same mistake twice, and this was going to serve her well going forward.

But that was all to come, of course. First, she had to play the part of the grieving wife. Tears were going to have to be shed, and she was going to have to lie through her teeth to all those who would mourn the man he presented himself to be, rather than the man she had seen behind the closed doors of her chamber, the ugliness that marred his charm and turned her love into a tainted, twisted thing.