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“ T he Beastly Laird,” Astrid Dunlop, Lady of Clan MacLennan, whispered with a cautious glance around the room, as if saying his name loud enough would be enough to summon him here.

Mabel frowned at her mother, wondering at the strange moniker. She and her sisters, Skylar and Scarlett, had been discussing the success of Scarlett’s wedding banquet as well as her new status as Lady of Clan Crawford when their mother suddenly uttered the name.

It was almost too cruel to imagine calling someone beastly, but it was better to hear the full extent of what he did before she jumped into defending him.

“Who is he, Maither?” she asked.

“The Laird of Clan Muir,” her mother whispered, still nervous. “He is the only one who isnae here, even though yer faither invited him. Laird Crawford is his closest friend, yet he didnae come. I dinnae care much for his presence, but ‘tis rude to nae honor an invitation.”

“Perhaps he has good reason,” Mabel suggested, earning a glare from her mother and a warning look from her sisters.

It was never a good thing to argue with their mother, but there were times it was necessary.

Her mother sniffed in disapproval. “What could be more important than his friend’s wedding?” she retorted. “Yer faither is the laird of one of the most powerful clans in the Highlands. Laird Crawford as well.”

Mabel had a number of things she could have listed, but she said nothing. What she had learned from past experience was that one could never win an argument against her mother, especially when she had her mind set as it was now.

“He chooses to stay in his clan except when it comes to war over land and property. That is how he earned the name. War is all he has ever kenned—a power-hungry man, he is. I heard that he is a fright to behold on the battlefield and off it, that he is riddled with scars so frightening that maidens faint with one look at him,” her mother added.

“I am glad that he stayed away from us, or he might set his greedy sights on our clan.”

Mabel tried to deny it, but her mother’s words set a chill down her spine, even if she found it hard to believe that one man would garner so much negative attention from her mother, who was usually averse to gory gossip.

Lady MacLennan’s main concern was securing her daughters the best possible matches. Mabel was almost grateful her mother hadn’t set her sights on such a dreadful man.

Surveying the room, she could understand why he wouldn’t want to be present at a social gathering. With such a reputation, it was amazing he had even been invited in the first place.

If it hadn’t been her sister’s wedding, she, too, would have begged off the celebrations, not being one for crowds. She saw her parents’ hope in inviting so many eligible bachelors, but her aversion to making small talk kept her firmly rooted to the walls to avoid it.

“Scarlett,” Hamish Dunlop, Laird of Clan MacLennan, chided, “ye should be with yer husband. Why are ye here with yer maither and sisters?”

“Faither,” Scarlett answered, “I?—”

“Go now,” he ordered.

Mabel noted her sister’s glum expression as she moved to sit by her new husband, who only spared her a glance before returning to greet the growing line of well-wishers.

“Ye should ken better than to keep our daughters as ye do, wife,” her father scolded again. “Now that Scarlett is married, it is time to find suitable husbands for Mabel and Skylar.”

“I ken, husband. I was only refreshing their memory of some of the guests present today and those absent.”

“Who is absent?” he asked, looking around the room. “It is almost a crush.”

He was correct. And the fact that Mabel would soon be expected to socialize as soon as she was dismissed only added to her anxiety.

“The Laird of Clan Muir,” her mother answered.

Mabel was surprised by the nervous glance her father cast around the room. She had thought her mother’s reaction an over exaggeration, but for her father, who she had always thought brave, to falter as he did… it was worrying.

Just who is this man?

“Ye shouldnae speak his name so casually, wife,” Laird MacLennan hissed. “Besides, there are many better things to discuss.”

“Ye’re correct, husband.” Lady MacLennan nodded. “Come, lasses. It is time ye met some potential husbands. Now that Scarlett has married such a powerful laird, ye’re sure to get better matches now. Especially ye, Mabel. Nay more hiding behind Scarlett or Skylar.”

“Aye, Maither,” Mabel answered, eyeing potential exits to avoid the coming lecture.

“There’s Lady Fraser,” her mother announced. “She still has two unmarried daughters, and her son is about yer age, Mabel. He could be a good match for ye.”

Mabel let her mother drag her to Lady Fraser and watched as they traded thinly veiled barbs between polite words.

“I must congratulate ye on such a wonderful match, Lady MacLennan. Surely ye must be proud of yer Scarlett,” Lady Fraser said with a smile.

“Indeed. Me Scarlett is a great beauty, and our clan is strong. The match is the best that could have been. I am so happy that one of me daughters has wed so well. I can only imagine the other two will follow suit soon.”

Mabel didn’t miss how Lady Fraser’s nose turned up in disgust at the sheer arrogance in her mother’s tone. It wasn’t polite to brag so openly about one’s good fortune, especially to one who wasn’t as fortunate.

She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment as her mother continued crowing, oblivious to the disapproving looks she was earning.

If only the ground would open up and swallow me.

“Maither, we should meet other guests,” Mabel suggested, trying to distract her mother from her crusade.

“There is still time, Mabel,” Lady MacLennan insisted. “Lady Fraser and I are old friends, and it has been an age since we’ve last seen each other.”

“We will be seeing ye soon, Astrid,” Lady Fraser replied with a proud smile. “Me son, Ewan, will marry Rionna Boyd come spring.”

Lady MacLennan’s smile turned sour but didn’t dim. Clearly, Lady Fraser’s good fortune hadn’t been expected.

If there was one thing Lady MacLennan hated, it was not knowing something, even if she claimed to hate gossip.

“Congratulations are in order, then,” she offered, keeping the smile on her face. “We have kept ye long enough. We will go and give our greetings to Laird Crawford.”

Resisting the urge to sigh in relief, now that the conversation was finally over, Mabel let herself be pulled away by her mother.

“I see Freya’s manners are lacking as ever,” her mother spat once they were out of earshot. “Bragging about her good fortune. Appalling!”

Mabel exchanged a look with Skylar, who only rolled her eyes in response. They were both used to their mother’s antics.

She took in her sister’s glum countenance by her husband’s side and felt pity for her.

Although her marriage to Kian Murray, Laird of Clan Crawford, was advantageous, Scarlett was not glad for it, seeing as the man ignored her at all turns. Mabel shuddered at the thought that she, too, would have to resign herself to such a fate if her parents had their way.

Laird Crawford was not much older than her sister and had been rumored to be flirtatious, though no one had complained about being seduced by him. His clan was one of the wealthiest due to their whiskey exports, which had flourished since he had inherited the Lairdship.

He was ruthless in business, and it had sparked rumors about how Laird MacLennan had been able to secure the match with him in the first place.

“Lady MacLennan,” he greeted.

“Laird Crawford.” Lady MacLennan bowed her head. “We came to congratulate ye on such an auspicious day. We are verra glad ye agreed to this union between our clans.”

“I am the lucky one, Lady MacLennan,” he said with a charming smile. “Ye and Laird MacLennan have blessed me with yer bonny daughter.”

Lady MacLennan glowed under his praise, while Scarlett sank further into her seat.

Laird Crawford was a handsome enough man, but her sister looked entirely unhappy with the match, rather than pleased—a sharp contrast to their mother’s joy.

He seemed positively charming as he conversed with their mother and guests alike, but Mabel couldn’t help but note that he had not said a word to Scarlett.

“I must say that we’re surprised yer friend, Laird Muir, isnae in attendance,” Lady MacLennan added.

“Maither,” Mabel whispered in warning.

Would the woman never get tired of embarrassing them?

“‘Tis a tragedy that keeps him,” Laird Crawford answered with a grim look. “I wouldnae speak of it, but ye must ken. His braither and wife died in a carriage accident a week ago. Ye might ken them. Their elopement caused a scandal a few years back when Aidan ran away with a maid.”

Mabel’s heart clenched at the news, and her eyes shot to him, unable to hide her surprise.

The story he had mentioned sounded oddly familiar, so she listened attentively, hoping he wasn’t referring to the couple she was thinking of.

“I remember the rumors, but nae the particulars,” her mother admitted.

“I heard ‘twas a maid from yer clan. Layla, if I’m nae mistaken,” Laird Crawford added.

“Layla?” her mother gasped. “That was Mabel’s maid. We all thought the ungrateful lass ran off and died. She married the braither of a laird? Did ye ken anything about this, Mabel?”

Mabel shook her head, schooling her face into a mask of appropriate surprise.

No one in her family knew that she had helped her maid escape to marry the man she was in love with, or that she had been corresponding with them until a month prior. The last she had heard, they were planning a surprise trip for their twin sons’ birthday.

Layla cannae be dead. What about the children?

Mabel had sneaked out of MacLennan Castle to attend the twins’ baptism and been named their godmother—which had been an honor for her—and she hadn’t seen them since then.

“‘Tis a shame,” Laird Crawford sighed. “Thankfully, their sons survived.”

Mabel’s heart soared with joy at the news that the children were alive. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away; they would only draw more attention to her.

“Where are the bairns now?” she ventured. “They must have been through a great ordeal.”

The question earned her a look from her sisters; otherwise, they looked concerned as well.

It was a concern anyone would have.

“Laird Muir took them to his home. He is their uncle,” Laird Crawford answered.

They are with the Beastly Laird?

Mabel felt her skin prickle at that, and dread coiled in her gut.

A man given to bloodshed would know nothing of caring for children, and Layla wouldn’t rest easy if her sons weren’t well cared for. She loved those children more than life itself.

Mabel’s eyes darted to the nearest door, mapping out how she could escape to the privacy of her chambers to plan her next steps.

There was no way she would leave those children in such a terrible man’s care. She would risk everything to see them well situated, and if it meant going to get them, then she very well would.