Wed to the MacKeellan Beast

Prologue

“You are to be a good wife, Alice,” her mother said firmly as she wrapped a white shawl around Alice’s shoulders. “Be faithful and obedient. Do not push that man to anger.”

“Yes, mother,” Alice whispered back. She tightened the shawl around her shoulders, knowing Scotland would be much colder than even her home in Yorkshire.

She looked up at her family, her heart hammering in her chest. This was not how she had wanted to be married.

She knew very few young ladies who would wish to be married off after their brother lost them like a gambled bet.

Alice had always imagined and hoped she would marry for love.

Even if she had not been able to do that, she would never have wanted to be married off like a cow is sold at market.

“You are much too thin for the harsh cold,” her mother muttered as she fussed with the shawl.

Alice nodded. Alice Crimmons had always been willowy, even when her parents had insisted that she would grow into her features.

Now at twenty-one years old, the window for that growth seemed to have closed.

She nervously tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

She had always blended in with the Crimmons family.

Tall, with long blonde hair and blue eyes.

She looked just the same as her mother, her brother, her grandmother, and many of the families who lived around them.

Now, she was being sent away to a land where many of them would not be blonde and blue-eyed.

“Must I really go, mother?” Alice whispered.

“You must,” her mother replied. “You must not bring dishonor upon our family. Your brother has already done enough of that for all of us.”

“Yes, mother,” Alice whispered reluctantly. Her heart raced in her chest. She walked toward her horse, and her brother, Leopold, assisted her onto the horse. She settled into the saddle, her legs swinging over the edge slightly as she adjusted into a side-seated position.

“We shall ride through the night,” he said. “There is no reason not to try to arrive there quicker.”

“Through the night?” she asked. “Surely this trip will take weeks. We cannot just ride for that long without rest.”

“You will do as I say,” Leopold said, glaring at her.

“Will the horses not get tired?” Alice asked.

“The horses can rest when you are in Scotland,” he hissed at her as he mounted his horse.

“But—” she started, but her brother glared at her, leading her to shrink into the saddle. “I am sorry,” she whispered.

“Stop apologizing so much,” her brother scoffed. “Your husband will eat you alive if you look weak to him.”

“Leopold,” their father hissed warningly from behind their mother.

Leopold winced but nodded. Alice looked at them all.

Her mother’s face was stern. Her father was scowling.

Neither of them seemed to be showing a single shred of concern that their only daughter was being sent to the Highlands.

Their mother walked toward the horse that Alice was sitting on.

For a moment, Alice could have convinced herself that her mother wanted to say one last goodbye.

“Do not embarrass us,” her mother whispered before pressing a small pin into Alice’s hand. She looked down. A small rose brooch. Alice nodded, despite the fact that she knew she almost certainly would not be wearing this.

Leopold dug his heels into the sides of his horse, and Alice followed him.

The first few miles were familiar terrain for her. The moors were covered in heather at this time of year. They passed the Bridestones, and Alice looked up at them. The irony was not lost on her.

The land around them changed as they continued on. Over the days, the grass grew taller, the shrubs grew hardier, and the trees changed from oak, birch, and rowan into pine and juniper. Alice looked around at the changing scenery. It was beautiful, in its own way.

“Leopold,” she said as they continued.

“Do not talk to me,” he spat back at her.

“Sorry,” she replied. She swallowed hard and tried to focus back on the countryside. Her mind could not be silenced. “But I wanted to ask—”

“I said do not talk,” Leopold growled.

“But my husband-to-be,” she said. “What is he really like? You are the one who has met him in person.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them. She thought that her brother might have declined to respond to her. Her eyes turned back to the scenery. Her heart ached as she was left to stew in her own anxieties.

“He is ugly,” he finally said, making her startle. “And cruel. He is a typical Scottish brute. A savage. You should not hope for a gentle marriage.”

“I see,” she replied quietly. “So he is as bad as the rumors?”

“More than,” he scoffed. “Do you believe a gentleman could have unhorsed me?”

“I do not—”

“No,” Leopold shook his head. “A gentleman would not have been able to. Laird MacKeellan is not only not a gentleman, but he’s a cruel, rude, unfeeling, callous man. He killed his brother, did you know that?”

Alice felt her blood freeze.

“I did not,” she admitted.

“Well, now you do,” Leopold scoffed. “He is not a gentle or kind man.”

“But… I am to marry him?” she whispered. For a brief moment, Leopold seemed to hesitate. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and for a moment Alice thought that there was something like guilt or apology in his expression. Then, his expression hardened again.

“Yes,” he huffed. “It is your duty to marry for the sake of the family. The laird is a good businessman and ally of our family.”

“Despite the fact that he is a brute?” Alice asked.

“Exactly,” Leopold scoffed. She watched him turn back to the road ahead of them. As much as she wanted to point it out, she knew now was not the time to remind her brother that she was only in this situation because of his actions three months ago.

She shook her head and turned back to the Scottish scenery.

Eventually, MacKeellan Keep came into view. The robust, square stone building soared into the sky, with a large stone wall surrounding it. The grounds around it were covered in thick grass, heather, and small wildflowers. The smell of the plants and a distant body of water filled her nose.

She closed her eyes, taking it in.

“Welcome!” a deep, male, Scottish voice came from the front.

She looked toward it. Alice’s eyes widened as she saw a man standing at the edge of the keep.

He was tall, his muscular arms folded in front of him.

He had long, black hair flowing down his back.

Similar black hair sprouted out of his folded forearms. His green eyes followed them as they approached, hard, but not as ferocious as she had thought they would be.

She bit her bottom lip.

“Who is that?” she whispered to her brother. He shushed her, waving a dismissive hand at her. Her hands gripped the reins tighter in frustration.

“My Laird! Evander!” a guard called out. Her eyes snapped to the source of the voice. The man was running toward the front of the keep. Finally, she would learn who the laird was…

The guard ran straight to the man at the front of the keep who had welcomed them. Her eyes widened and she suddenly felt dizzy.

He was not ugly, far from it.

Perhaps, she thought, her brother had been wrong, and this man was not just an ugly highland brute. If she was to be honest with herself, she would have said that Evander was the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, but such thoughts felt dangerous with her brother still nearby.

She swallowed hard and shook her head.

She could not be fooled by his handsome face. He was a brutish Highlander. If she was to survive this marriage, she thought, she could not be deceived by handsomeness…

Even if her heart fluttered at the sight of him.