And then the most amazing thing happened. As she stood there gaping, nearly hidden behind her brothers, an odd vibration echoed through her ears.
It was faint—so faint that she thought perhaps she’d imagined it. But no, there it was again. A deep timbre—a voice! Low-pitched like some of the other rare sounds she was able to hear, though until now she’d never been certain that they were real. She’d thought they were only memories of sounds she’d heard before her world had gone silent.
She pushed around her brothers so she could more squarely see the room, and she searched for the source of that sound. That beautiful sound.
As soon as she made her presence known, the others looked her way, and it was then she saw that Graeme’s lips were moving. It was him she was hearing!
Uncaring of how forward or discourteous she might appear, she rushed forward, eager to be closer, wanting more of this delicious sensation in her ears.
But his lips stopped moving the moment she halted in front of him. They turned down into a frown as he stared back at her, almost as if he found her lacking.
Color suffused her cheeks and she lowered her gaze, suddenly shamed. Of course he’d find her lacking. He would have heard the stories and here she came boldly rushing forward, not even refreshed or appropriately dressed to greet her prospective husband. He must think her extremely disrespectful.
She took a step back, her hands shaking at her sides, and then she chanced another glance up at him, hoping that he would speak again, even if it was to voice his displeasure. She craved that sensation in her ears, something to break the endless, suffocating silence she lived in.
Graeme stared down at the tiny slip of a lass in front of him, taking in her heightened color and the sudden shame that had crept into her eyes.
Christ’s bones, but the lass was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t imagined—how could he have?—that his intended bride would be such a bonnie lass.
She was tiny, almost fragile in appearance. He could likely break her bones with a simple squeeze. Her hair was like a wash of sunshine, only a little paler. Honey blond with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. They reminded him a lot of Bowen’s eyes, eyes he’d inherited from their mother. And they were fringed by dark lashes, long, making her eyes seem even larger against her small face.
He’d expected a … child. Perhaps even someone who resembled a child. This was no girl barely on the cusp of womanhood. She was a woman full grown with gently curved hips and a bosom that, although not overly large, was well beyond the initial budding of a girl in her youth.
He had to remind himself that she wasn’t … normal. Or at least she was not as a normal woman should be. He still wasn’t sure the extent or even the nature of her condition. There was much he needed to know.
He hated the bleakness in her expression. There was something in it that did funny things to his chest. Was she worried that he would deny her? That he would reject her in front of her family and his?
No matter his distaste for the union and the circumstances forced upon him by his king, the idea of hurting such a sweet-looking lass made him ill. Whatever was wrong with her was not of her making, and she was an innocent pawn in a calculated move by the crown.
“I assume you must be Eveline,” he said in a gentle voice.
Her chin notched upward, and to his surprise, she smiled back at him, her eyes lighting up—her entire face lighting up—so much so that it made him catch his breath and stare back in awe at her beauty.
“I am Graeme Montgomery. I am to be your husband.”
She sobered a bit at that last, so it was evident she had basic understanding of the situation. Her brow wrinkled up, and then she cocked her head to the side as she studied him with those startling blue eyes.
He found himself fidgeting under her regard, which made him scowl. Her eyes widened as she took a hasty step back toward her father.
Hell, he hadn’t meant to frighten her. He glanced over to the Earl of Dunbar, allowing his displeasure to show. The earl, however, looked amused, another thing that Graeme didn’t find pleasing.
Then, to Graeme’s utter shock, Eveline stepped forward and slipped her small hand into his much larger, much rougher one and curled her fingers trustingly around his.
When he turned from the earl to stare back at her, she smiled, flashing straight, white teeth.
Laird Armstrong’s groan could be heard throughout the hall. Robina Armstrong put a hand to her mouth and Eveline’s brothers just looked really, really angry.
Whatever reservations the Armstrongs had about the marriage, it was evident that their daughter had no such misgivings.
CHAPTER 7
Looking back, Eveline wasn’t at all sure what had changed her mind about Graeme Montgomery. It was an impulsive gesture on her part and one that she might well regret. But then there wasn’t anything to be done about her marriage. She’d watched enough mouths to know that. Her fate was inevitable, so why not embrace it?
Graeme fascinated her. It wasn’t so much that she heard his words, but his voice was like a low hum in her ears. Pleasant. A shaft of sunlight into her dark world of silence. There were other sounds that she’d thought she’d imagined, but now she wondered if she truly did hear a limited number of things. And if so, why?
Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to what her mother was saying to her. It was deeper sounds. She was positive of that. She couldn’t remember hearing a woman’s voice since the accident. Certainly no screaming. High pitches. And music, which she missed the most, was something completely lost to her.