Chapter One

 

On the first of May, pixie faeries play,

They lure the spring; dance and sing.

When lovers meet, on this day of May,

A bond is forged, blessed by the fae.

 

Gwen MacGregor smiled as she recalled the child’s rhyme while gazing around the chapel from where she stood in the pews. Of all the days to begin life’s journey with your mate, Beltane held the most promise. It had rained earlier which, on this day, was a sign of fertility and good luck. The Beltane fires would rage this eve, and she could think of no better blessing for a couple about to betroth themselves to one another.

The past few days had brought much upheaval to the castle, with the laird’s death and her lady’s unexpected betrothal contract to James MacIntosh. Gwen had never chanted so much in her life. Protection spells, healing spells, and maybe a couple to bring on a case of the guts. But those were well deserved.

She considered herself fortunate in her situation. Well, to a certain degree. Having her family fortune squandered away by a greedy uncle had landed her and her sisters in the service of wealthy families. It meant she did not have to sit through endless lessons or entertain ridiculous suitors like the ladies she had once called friends. That she would not miss.

If her uncle hadn’t squandered away their wealth, and if she still held her title, perhaps there might have been a day when she would have become betrothed to a rich nobleman. But more importantly, she wished there was a way she could make life easier for her aging parents. She and her sisters did what they could for them, but it was not easy.

Besides, today was not about her. She had long since accepted her lot in life. She would find herself a life-mate just as worthy of her affections and, thankfully, he would not be a man of some else’s choosing—someone who satisfied someone else’s idea of necessary attributes. And she would do everything in her power to continue to care for her family.

The guests filed into their pews, her lady taking her place at the front of the chapel.

Gwen turned her head to get a better view of the great James MacIntosh. She’d heard much about his fine features and delicious body. The rumours had not been exaggerated; he was tall and muscular with striking eyes and a sensual mouth.

As he moved forward to take part in the ceremony, another man came into view. With moss-green eyes, crinkled at the edges, he looked as though he had just heard a great jest. His lips curled into a grin, as his gaze followed the MacIntosh. That is, until his gaze locked with hers.

Gwen held her breath.

“That is his brother, in case you are wondering.” The steward, Andrews, stood beside her in the pew. She hadn’t realized he was there.

She spun toward him. “I am not wondering. I am merely observing.”

Andrews chuckled. “Aye. Well, observe away then, but remember he is a nobleman. You are but a servant.”

“I know who I am, Andrews. You do not need to put me on my guard as though I rise above my station.”

“I meant no harm, Gwen. I only wanted to be sure you didn’t harbour false hope.”

She eyed him for sincerity. The man had no business telling her whom she could or could not fancy. “You do realize I can turn you into a toad with a wave of my hand.”

Andrews rolled his eyes and moved to another pew. Be gone, odious man.

During the ceremony, Gwen stole glances at the stranger as often as possible. So the much coveted James MacIntosh had a brother, did he? Well, this was an interesting development.

As much as she hated to admit it, Andrews was right. As a servant, she would not be permitted to socialize with him. Yet, she still could not help glancing his way. Surely there was no harm in that. He was not quite as tall as his brother, and instead of sandy-brown hair, his was a dark, rich brown. He did have the same captivating green eyes, however, and Gwen simply couldn’t turn away from him. Her senses went on high alert when he turned in her direction and returned her curious gaze.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but she was certain a glow enveloped him. But that could not be. No, it must be the light.

Gwen kept an eye on her lady for any signs of distress, but at the same time was acutely aware of the distance separating the stranger and herself. For long moments, all sound in the chapel fell away, and only he and she remained. Her mind raced and her pulse quickened. He must be of Druid blood, for she was certain he cast a spell over her, preventing her from breaking eye contact.

Then he smiled. He held her captive with it, for it changed the lines of his face from handsome to outright mesmerizing.

Slowly, her mind returned to the present. With one last grin, he turned back toward the ceremony at the front of the chapel. Gwen also returned her attention there only to find the betrothal ceremony had concluded.

Lady Aileana and the MacIntosh were being directed toward the entrance of the chapel to create a receiving line for their guests. Gwen lost sight of them and was briefly swept along with the other guests until she found herself walking side-by-side with the stranger. Their arms brushed, and she swore the resulting tingle travelled right down to her toes.

“My name is Calum MacIntosh. May I have the pleasure of your name?” His voice was deep and silky smooth, his gaze never faltering.

Gwen watched his mouth move over the words and had a mad urge to trace the outline of his lips with her finger. “I am Gwendolyn McGregor; Lady Aileana’s personal maid.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. His gaze searched hers and he grinned when her cheeks grew warm.

“Excuse me, my lord, but I cannot be in this line.” If he did not stop, she was sure she would drag him into the nearest pew. “I must return through the side entrance.” With reluctance, she pulled her hand from his. “It was lovely to meet you, my lord MacIntosh.” She curtsied and tried to hide the shake in her voice. Was she actually trembling?

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Gwendolyn MacGregor.”

Gwen made her way to the back of the chapel and retraced her steps to the castle. Her lady would not need her again until they were ready to eat, and quite frankly, Gwen needed some fresh air.

Calum MacIntosh was intense. He was attractive to be sure, but she had known enough attractive men to not be easily rattled in the presence of one. When he looked at her, it seemed as though he looked into her, and she was a little disconcerted by that. She had never experienced it before. He already seemed to know her.

Gwen had gotten her lady through her nervousness this morn by listing all the flowers she knew in alphabetical order. Perhaps she should list a few of her own before her next encounter with Calum MacIntosh.

She tried busying herself with her usual chores to take her mind off the brother but her thoughts continued to return to him. She envisioned him standing in his crimson brocade doublet. His hair was well groomed, tied neatly at the base of his neck, and he wore a light beard. In her mind’s eye, she traced the outline of muscle that, no doubt, lay beneath his shirt. He was broad in the shoulder and an image quickened of him pinning her to the wall and devouring her neck.

Sweet Brigid!

Gwen was surprised by her reaction to him. While she’d found men attractive upon first meeting, a connection usually only grew in time; with Calum, connection and attraction occurred all at once. Did he feel it too? And what good would it do her if he did? His position in life and hers was massively different. For all she knew, he was probably betrothed, or already married to some noblewoman who was home right now giving birth to their third child.

The betrothal ceremony would last for three days, and during his stay, she would have little opportunity to speak with him, since she would not be invited to join the guests at meals, afternoon hunting parties, games of cards, or any other fancy that took them. That would hinder her ability to find the opportunity to explore why she was so taken with him.

Gwen mechanically moved about her duties as she forced her mind to drift away from Calum’s visage.

Part of her longed to go to her lady now and see how she fared. Lady Aileana had not been enthusiastic about the betrothal to James MacIntosh because of his reputation as a womanizer, but had followed through with it because it was her uncle’s dying wish. For a woman so young, she had displayed much strength and honour, and Gwen held her in high regard.

When she completed her chores, she proceeded to the kitchen to offer assistance for preparations for the evening meal. As she crossed the main hallway, she noticed a group of guests speaking together near the large hearth in the great hall. Calum was among them. She tried acting nonchalant and not notice him, yet, she was so curious to know with whom he was speaking and what they were speaking about. To her surprise, a moment later, Calum broke from his group and crossed the hall to intercept her.

“I beg your pardon, lass, but I believe your lady seeks you.” Calum’s words were followed by a wink filled with unmistakable meaning. “She asked me to accompany you to the rear courtyard.”

He then walked toward the back of the castle, and Gwen was left with no alternative but to follow him. Once outside and away from sight, he turned to her, wearing a broad grin.

“I know you are not a guest here and we are not permitted to dine together. I would, however, like to see you during my stay.”

From the slight fidget of his hands, Gwen concluded he was not used to being so bold. But the implication of what he suggested put her in a precarious position. Did he think her a common wench who would bed any nobleman who visited Chattan Castle?

“What do you say to that? Do you think we can arrange to spend some time together?”

“Lord MacIntosh, I am not a loose woman.” Saying the words, her chin quivered.

His cheeks turned the colour of hot embers. “My apologies, my lady. That is not what I meant. You intrigue me, and I would like to know you better.”

Could he be genuine in his intent? She understood well enough that in other households, noblemen could pick and choose from the servants for any purpose that crossed their minds. Thankfully, she did not live under such conditions.

Yet, he seemed different, no doubt about that. From the mortification on his face, she was convinced he was not the sort of man who often enquired after a woman’s time. The hard facts were he had sought her out, arranged for them to talk, and he wanted to spend time with her. A thrill ran from Gwen’s neck all the way down her spine.

“I am certain we can come to some arrangement.”

Calum bowed slightly and moved off toward the side courtyard to where his brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law were waiting. As he walked away, he whistled an old Scottish ballad Gwen’s father used to sing to her as a child. The sound of it lifted her heart and reminded her of a home she once loved dearly and still missed.