The Highlander’s Virgin Wife (English Lasses in Scotland #4)
Chapter 1
“I’m afraid I’ll never feel the passion you describe!” Keira Webster, the youngest daughter of the Duke of Murray, exclaimed helplessly in the presence of her two best friends and confidantes, Joan Ainsley and Avery Ramsay.
For Keira, visiting her friend Joan in her magnificent castle in the Scottish Highlands was an act of not only escape but also rebellion. She felt this was where she would be able to truly be herself and express her deepest wishes, as well as fears regarding her upcoming wedding.
“I think the more important thing here is the fact that you are not obliged to marry this man if you think your life with him will be nothing but misery. There’s always a way around it,” Joan reminded her.
Keira locked gazes with Joan, who seemed to blend into the room with such ease. There was a sense of grandeur all around them, with those high ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and intricately carved wooden furniture.
The walls were adorned with rich tapestries, depicting scenes of old battles and royal gatherings, and Joan seemed to have stepped out of one of them, with her regal stature and those high cheekbones.
“I can’t run away, Joan. I’m not as brave as you,” Keira said sadly.
She looked down at her lap, where she had her hands crossed.
Her fingers started to drum against her thigh nervously.
She tried to stop them, but it was a futile effort.
She lifted her gaze, glancing at both her friends.
“And… well, the Earl of Hall isn’t really that bad. ”
“Somehow, I am not convinced,” Avery teased, trying to lighten the mood, and as always, she managed to liberate them from some of the tension that had gathered in the air around them.
“No, really.” Keira tried to do the man justice. “He’s nice. It’s just that. He’s so nice that it is utterly boring. There is not a single thing about him that thrills me.”
The air around them was heavy with the weight of Keira’s impending marriage despite her desire to make some sense of it. However, despite her best efforts, her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness and apprehension, reflecting the internal conflict she was grappling with.
Avery, a comforting presence with her warm, empathetic eyes, sat beside Keira, offering silent support. She gently squeezed Keira’s hand, offering a reassuring smile as they discussed the impending union. Her kindness and understanding provided a sense of solace to Keira in this trying moment.
Joan, the hostess of the grand estate and a close confidante, sat across from them in a high-backed chair, her expression thoughtful and contemplative. She had been in a similar situation as well, not too long ago. And Keira had been the one to give her a way out.
But at this moment, Joan, who always offered wisdom and encouragement, apparently had no insight she could offer that could indicate even a glimmer of hope for Keira’s future.
“Oh, I suppose that not everyone can make a love match,” Keira said exasperatedly, feeling defeated. “If I haven’t met anyone who excites me in the ton all these years, I suppose I won’t find him now either.”
“I know it might seem bleak now, Keira, but one should never lose hope,” Avery chimed in, inspired by her own love story.
Keira smiled at her. “You two were fortunate. Very fortunate. Fate has graced you with the presence of love, but I’m afraid that I won’t be so fortunate myself. And more importantly, I cannot be so careless of my family’s pride to allow myself to become a spinster.”
As Keira sat in the opulent parlor, her thoughts wandered down a path she had often contemplated in private moments—the idea of embracing the life of a spinster.
The notion offered her a sense of freedom, a life unbound by societal expectations and the weight of a loveless marriage. She envisioned dedicating herself to her passions, her independence, and the pursuit of her dreams.
In her imagination, she saw herself traveling to distant lands, exploring cultures, and immersing herself in the arts and knowledge that had always fascinated her.
She envisioned evenings spent in quiet contemplation, surrounded by books and the soft glow of candlelight, finding solace and purpose within the pages of wisdom and creativity.
However, a pang of guilt crept into her thoughts. Keira knew that her family, deeply entrenched in tradition and their noble heritage, held different expectations for her. The weight of their hopes and dreams for her future bore heavily on her conscience.
She considered the potential consequences of deviating from the path laid out for her. She knew her decision to remain unmarried would be perceived as selfishness by her family, a betrayal of the legacy they sought to uphold.
Then, Joan’s voice brought her back to the present moment. “Perhaps you just aren’t looking in the right place.”
Before Keira could say anything to that, the door burst open, and their eyes fell upon Joan’s husband, Jasper Ainsley, Laird MacShaw, accompanied by a man Keira had never seen before.
He wore a finely tailored kilt in a tartan pattern, representing his clan with pride. The sporran hanging at his waist added a touch of authenticity to his ensemble. A well-fitted jacket completed the look, revealing a glimpse of a crisp white shirt and a decorative sash draping across his chest.
Their arrival broke the hushed conversation and redirected the attention of the ladies. Jasper, a confident and distinguished man, strode into the room, wearing a finely tailored kilt and a sporran, exuding an aura of Celtic charm.
Beside him was the enigmatic stranger—tall, his dark hair flowing beneath a plaid bonnet and possessing an allure that captured the room’s attention.
Jasper’s one eye was immediately focused on his wife as he headed in her direction, wrapping his arms around her waist, possessively pulling her towards him and kissing her lips.
Keira had never seen Jasper without his eyepatch. She never even dared to ask Joan about it, considering it their private matter. But right now, Jasper’s eyepatch was the last thing on her mind.
Keira’s eyes inadvertently met those of the mysterious man. Instantly, her cheeks flushed, betraying the subtle flutter in her heart. It was a rare reaction, one she hadn’t anticipated.
A rush of emotions surged within her, and she hastily looked away, attempting to conceal her newfound infatuation. The stranger’s gaze lingered for a moment, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips, and Keira found her heart stirring beyond comprehension.
“Laird MacCurtney,” Jasper finally spoke, naming the enigmatic man who had captured Keira’s interest. “May I introduce me lovely wife Joan, and her two friends, Lady MacKinnon and Lady Keira Webster.”
He paused for a moment, then continued. “Ladies, this is me newest ally, Raphael Anderson, Laird MacCurtney. He is to be our guest for this evenin’, in honor of our newly created alliance.”
Keira’s heart fluttered as she took in the sight of this Scottish gentleman.
His eyes were a striking shade of azure, reminiscent of the vast Scottish skies, sparkling with a hint of mischief and intelligence.
His chiseled features, adorned with a well-groomed beard, exuded an air of rugged charm that perfectly complemented his heritage.
After her friends had already done so, Keira finally summoned the courage to extend her hand, greeting Laird MacCurtney with a warm smile. As their hands met, a rush of tingles shot through her body, an electrifying sensation that left her momentarily breathless.
What is it about this man that makes even his touch magnetic?
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Laird MacCurtney,” Keira said, her voice perhaps a touch more animated than she had intended. “And my warmest congratulations on your new alliance with Laird MacShaw.”
“Thank ye, Lady… Keira?” Laird MacCurtney asked amusedly, his voice carrying the musical lilt of the Highlands, captivating her.
“Yes.” She smiled, realizing that they were still holding each other’s hands.
Time seemed to slow, and a subtle current of indescribable energy pulsed between their fingertips. She felt the warmth of his hand, strong and reassuring, sending ripples of sensation up her arm and through her entire body.
The air around them crackled with tension, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Keira finally withdrew her hand, her heart pounding in her chest.
She managed to compose herself, offering a gentle smile, but the sensation of their prolonged touch lingered, leaving her both exhilarated and bewildered.
She turned around to glance at Joan, almost as if searching for a way out of this situation that she had so unexpectedly found herself in. “Perhaps you need some privacy to discuss the event of this evening.”
She clung to the first plausible reason that would have given her an excuse to leave this room and escape the eyes of the man who seemed to have bewitched her. “I shall go for a stroll. The gardens look beautiful bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun.”
Joan looked confused for a moment. “Oh, but we do not need any privacy to discuss dinner arrangements, Keira. You are more than welcome to—”
“I think I’ll join you, Keira,” Avery, more attuned to Keira’s emotions than Joan, chimed in. “A walk in the sun might do us both some good.” She smiled at Joan, and only then did Joan realize that there was probably a good reason why Keira had suggested something like that in the first place.
“Of course.” Joan smiled. “I might join you two after we’re done here.”
As Keira and Avery stepped out into the afternoon sun, the garden welcomed them with a burst of color and fragrance.
The vibrant hues of blooming flowers painted a picturesque scene, while the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of roses and heather.
The garden was meticulously arranged, a blend of manicured paths, blossoming shrubs, and carefully tended hedges.
In the distance, the majestic Scottish Highlands stood tall and proud, a stunning panorama of rolling hills and peaks. The sunlight played upon the landscape, casting shifting shadows and highlighting the natural beauty of the rugged terrain.
The verdant greens of the Highlands seemed to stretch endlessly, merging with the bright blue sky. It would be enough to clear Keira’s mind if the sky didn’t remind her of Raphael’s eyes.
This can’t be good.
Keira and Avery walked down the gravel path, the sound of their footsteps accompanied by the cheerful chirping of birds. They found a secluded spot—a stone railing overlooking the breathtaking view.
Keira leaned against it, taking in the expansive vista before her. But no matter how beautiful it all was, it still wasn’t enough to pacify her racing heart and mind.
“Avery.” She turned to her friend. “When you first met your husband, did you feel flushed? Did your heart race like mad?”
Avery smiled immediately, a smile that was worth a thousand words. “Yes,” she confirmed. “And the best part was that it was only the beginning. The more I got to know him, the more flushed I got, the more I knew that my heart belonged to him.”
Keira sighed heavily as if the burden of the entire world was placed upon her fragile back.
“I will never experience that in my marriage.” Then, she paused for a moment.
Her mind raced with a million thoughts, a million forbidden thoughts.
“But… I’m not married yet. I wonder… if there was a man whose appearance in my life stirred something in me at first glance…
would my reaction be the same as yours?”
Keira knew that despite the cryptic nature of her question, Avery understood exactly what she had been trying to say.
“There is only one way to find out,” Avery said mysteriously, winking at her friend mischievously, then turning around without another word and returning inside.
“Avery? What does that even mean?” Keira called after her friend, who only laughed as she kept walking away.
Surely she can’t mean I should…
Keira stayed behind, closing her eyes and allowing the warmth of the afternoon sun to wash over her, soothing her troubled soul. Thoughts swirled in her mind, a blend of uncertainty and curiosity.
She still had some time to explore and understand what true desire felt like. It was a journey she felt she owed to herself, a chance to embrace her own desires and passions before embarking on a predetermined path.
Raphael, the enigmatic Laird MacCurtney, was the person who came to mind. He seemed to embody the allure of adventure and the mysteries of desire she sought to unravel.
However, she grappled with a sense of duty and the expectations placed upon her. Would she dare to follow her heart’s desires, stepping outside the boundaries of convention and expectation?
“What am I even thinking?” Keira mumbled to herself, attempting to quell the rising rush of emotions.
The suggestion seemed far too audacious and out of character for her reserved nature. She imagined the look of surprise and disapproval on Laird MacCurtney’s handsome face if she were to even broach the subject.
No. It was out of the question. She had to bury this unconventional notion in the deepest recesses of her thoughts. She had to stay within the safe confines of tradition. Perhaps some people were simply not fortunate enough to have a taste of real, raw desire.
That was a difficult truth to acknowledge, even more difficult to accept, but Keira tried to remind herself that risking her own reputation as well as the reputation of her family for what seemed to be merely a whim was simply not worth it…
no matter how devilishly handsome the man in question might be.
Stay away from this man. He is more trouble than he is worth.
And that was exactly what she planned on doing.