Scot of Passion - Bonus Prologue

Scot of Passion – Bonus Prologue

Two Months Before…

“I dinnae ken why I let ye talk me intae these bleedin’ things,” Lorne muttered. “Ye ken how much I hate things like this.”

Gavin laughed. “Think of this as a way tae broaden yer horizons.”

“Me horizons are broadened enough.”

“Yer horizons dinnae extend past the lands of our clan.”

“Tis far enough for me.”

His cousin sighed. “One of these days, when ye are Laird—if nae before—ye will need tae take a bride,” he said. “Where are ye goin’ tae meet a bride if ye dinnae look past our borders.”

“There plenty of suitable women within our clan.”

Gavin scoffed. “Perhaps ye’d like tae be matched with Isla?”

Lorne pulled a face. “Isla? She’s manlier than I am.”

“Well, tis nae sayin’ much really, but I think ye’re startin’ tae see me point.”

Laughing, Lorne punched Gavin in the shoulder. “Bleedin’ donkey.”

They dismounted in the yard of Castle Magillivray and took it in for a moment. Music and laughter drifted out of the open doorway of the keep. The party was already in full swing. A pair of stable boys appeared and took their horses from them, leading them away to be watered and fed. Lorne shifted on his feet, pulling his breeches down then tugging his black velvet doublet. He looked down at himself and frowned.

“I look like a fool,” he muttered.

“Aye. But any more so than any other day.”

Lorne grinned. “Dae ye take anythin’ seriously?”

“I try tae avoid it if I can.”

“Ye dae a good job of it.”

“Thank ye,” Gavin chirped. “I’m glad tae see me efforts dinnae go unnoticed.”

His cousin was dressed in blue and red velvet and looked every bit as foolish as Lorne felt. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse though, it did. Gavin produced a pair of white masks and handed one over to him with a smile.

“Put this on,” he said.

“I’m nae puttin’ this on.”

“Tis a masked ball,” Gavin said. “Ye have tae.”

With a loud sigh, Lorne did as Gavin asked and tied the mask on. It covered the top half of his face, leaving nothing but his mouth exposed. If nothing else, at least nobody would be able to recognize him. That was the only positive Lorne could find in this. He did not know how he’d let his cousin talk him into this in the first place.

“Come,” Gavin said.

Feeling as if he was on a death march, Lorne walked alongside Gavin. They mounted the steps and through the front doors of the castle. They passed masked men and women, laughing and acting like children as they ran up and down the corridors. Following the sound of the music, they passed a group of women, young and comely with tight fitting velvet gowns. The women eyed them closely and approvingly as they passed.

“Ye see?” Gavin said. “Even ye should be able tae find a woman in a place like this. A comely women. Maybe even a woman who can put up with ye’re broodin’ self.”

Lorne huffed but said nothing. He was not looking for a woman of any kind. Marriage was not something he had given any thought to. Had no desire for. He knew that eventually, he would have to wed. It was inevitable. A Laird was expected to marry and produce an heir. But Lorne would cross that bridge whenever he came to it. He certainly didn’t expect he would find that bridge while he wore velvet and a mask.

Gavin turned to him and grinned. “In a place like this, with women as fine as these roaming the corridors, I’d reckon ye can find a woman even yer faither would approve of.”

Lorne scoffed. “I doubt it.”

His father did not approve of anything Lorne did. He had been chasing his father’s approval since he was a young boy, but nothing he did was ever good enough for the man. Lorne longed to see approval in his father’s face. Wanted nothing more than to see respect in his father’s eyes when he looked at him. But he never saw anything close to it.

Gavin stopped walking, forcing Lorne to stop short as well. He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Yer faither wants thae best for ye. And he believes in ye,” Gavin said.

“He’s got a funny way of showin’ it.”

“Uncle Tiernan is tough. Hard. He rides ye only because he’s tryin’ tae get the best out of ye because he ken it’s in there,” Gavin said, tapping on Lorne’s chest. “Maybe ye dinnae find the woman of yer dreams here. Tis all right. But if nothin’ else, Cousin, then ye should have some fun tonight.”

“Fun,” Lorne muttered. “I couldnae tell ye what that is.”

The word was as foreign on his tongue as the concept was. His father did not approve of fun. He did not believe in being frivolous or acting like children. He would most definitely not approve of dancing and wearing velvet and masks. That was not his way. Which was why it was not Lorne’s way either, since he was trying so hard to cut himself into his father’s image. He thought—hoped—that if he was more like his father, the man would come to approve of him.

Gavin knew everything going through Lorne’s heart and mind right now and nodded solemnly. They had talked about it endlessly and an expression of compassion touched his features. But he swallowed it down and put that mischievous grin on his face.

“I’m sorry, lad,” Gavin said. “But tonight is nae for lamentin’ those things we dinnae have. Tonight is for drinkin’, dancin’, and behavin’ like a fool.”

“I’ll have tae take lessons from ye on that last point.”

Gavin laughed. “Then prepare tae study thae master.”

He let his cousin lead him to the castle’s great hall. They stepped through the doors and into an entirely different world. The hall was brightly lit and music echoed off the stone walls. A group of musicians sat off in a corner, playing a lively tune as throngs of people danced and laughed. The air around them was redolent with the aroma of a thousand different foods and household servants bustled around carrying trays bearing cups of wine as well as small finger foods.

Gavin stopped one of the servants and plucked a pair of cups off her tray then handed one of them to Lorne.

“Thank ye,” Lorne said.

“Tis only the beginnin’.”

He plucked a pair of roasted meat pastries off another passing tray and popped one into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he made a sound that bordered on the indecent.

“That was amazin’,” he said. “We need tae teach thae kitchen staff back home tae make those things.”

“I’ll be sure tae get the recipe,” Lorne muttered dryly.

“Come, cousin. Let us mingle.”

Lorne sighed and gave thought to running out, fetching his horse, and riding home. The only thing that kept him there was fearing what shame Gavin might bring down on their clan if he was left alone and unsupervised.

“Fine,” Lorne said. “Let’s go… mingle.”

“Ye need tae loosen up,” he said. “And just try tae pretend tae have some fun. If ye dae, who kens? Ye might have some by accident.”

They skirted the edge of the hall, ducking and dodging the people dancing and running about like children. Lorne offered a smile to those he passed, but it felt false on his face. He was trying. Pretending. But he wasn’t having any fun. His cousin on the other hand, laughed with everybody he met. He talked with everybody like they were old friends. People genuinely seemed to like Gavin. They gravitated toward him.

It was something Lorne had always envied about his cousin. That natural ability to connect with people. It was something he’d never been good at. He kept people at an arm’s distance. He didn’t open up to them the way Gavin could.

Gavin gasped and grabbed Lorne by the shoulder. He stood close but his eyes were elsewhere. Lorne tried to follow his cousin’s gaze but couldn’t see who or what he was looking at. He turned to Gavin.

“What in the bleedin’ hell has yer attention?” Lorne asked.

“Me future bride.”

He laughed. “Ye’re future bride, eh?”

“Aye. Small, auburn hair, fair, creamy skin,” he said. “She’s the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen and I must go and speak with her.”

“Then go and speak with her.”

Gavin turned to a man standing next tae him. “Excuse me, good sir. The young woman with auburn hair in the green gown with thae white mask—she’s runnin’ about, dancin’, and has thae most captivatin’ smile. Ye wouldnae happen tae ken her name, would ye?”

The man chuckled. “Sounds like ye’re describin’ Beatrix Magillivray. Daughter of Laird Dunn Magillivray.”

“Beatrix Magillivray,” Gavin said with a note of wonder in his voice.

Lorne watched his cousin and saw that gleam in his eye he got when he was about to suggest they do something he knew would not end well. Gavin turned to him.

“Come, me cousin,” Gavin said. “We must go and meet me future bride.”

Against his better judgment, Lorne let Gavin lead him through the crowd, seeking out the auburn-haired beauty that had captured his attention. Lorne shook his head.

“Nothin’ good will come of this,” he said.

“Think positive, lad. Think positive.”

Lorne grimaced. He was positive nothing good would come of this. But he let Gavin lead him into the crowd anyway…