The Scottish Bride (The Brides of Holland Springs Book 5)(20)

She was auctioning them off, like prized stallions.

The comparison left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what other choice did she have? The press had hounded her from the time she was sixteen, an age, she supposed, that they felt was old enough to stalk and spy upon her without drawing too much criticism.

It had always been her lot in life, due to her family’s political connections and vast fortune, so she honestly didn’t have the right to complain. But she wanted to. She hated having her privacy violated. Hated the fact that she couldn’t go places without an escort hovering at the edges. Hated the fact that she had no choice what family she’d been born into.

And now... just the simple fact that she was a single woman inheriting billions of dollars without any strings attached would send them into frenzy. But she would persevere with grace and silence until she found the suitable man that would solve her problem, because that was what Von Lichtensteins had done for centuries to survive. Survived, they had, through multiple kingdoms, revolutions, and beheadings.

Her father claimed it was because the family kept secrets for royalty and fellow aristocrats. Secrets that were kept with the understanding that should something ever happen to a Von Lichtenstein, then the world would know of their perfidy.

Now her family kept secrets for the ultra-rich as well, and partnered with Romanov Industries to do so. Only she hadn’t been allowed to work for the firms, and since finding a job that would hire an heiress without real work experience was next to zero, she’d been forced to become a socialite.

Poor, little rich girl, she thought wryly.

Honestly, she wouldn’t be in this predicament, if Sebastian had only fallen in love with her instead—

She gave herself a mental shake and settled into her chair, giving the nearly full table of dinner companions a small smile. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

A hushed murmur overtook the room as the bride and groom walked inside the ballroom that had been transformed into a beautiful, fairy-tale kingdom.

Kate’s heart beat furiously against her chest as the man she loved passed by her table with his heart on his sleeve.

But not for her.

Never again for her.

If Sebastian had ever loved her at all.

Perhaps as children, he’d felt some affection for her, but even then, he’d remained distant and closed-off. Even then, he’d kept a part of himself from her, never fully hers. But she hadn’t stopped trying to matter to him, hadn’t stopped trying to be the woman he wanted, until he met the one who’d finally stolen his heart. Though she doubted very much stolen was the right term.

Knowing Sebastian like she did, his heart had already been locked in an iron chest and protected by walls of un-scalable heights until he’d chosen to give it to his bride.

Not Kate.

Yet, even with that knowledge, she’d remained his friend. Had come to this wedding ... one in which the bride not only glowed from the love she had for the groom but because she was also pregnant with his child.

Her heart pinched in her chest. Why had she done that to herself?

The sound of forks lightly hitting glasses caused Sebastian and Daisy to stop. So did Kate’s heart. They turned to one another, tender smiles on their faces, and kissed. It was lovely and beautiful and made Kate want to sigh a little in happiness.

But she couldn’t.

It felt as though the walls were closing in on her, squeezing her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. Panic clawed at her insides, and she clenched her hands into tight fists. She would not cause a scene by breaking down in front of everyone, especially over a childhood crush.

Smile. Be gracious. Be kind. Be brave.

She had chanted those words over and over in her head during the entire ceremony. They had become so loud that she couldn’t hear the reciting of the vows, the promise to love and cherish.

Thank goodness.

For a wild moment, the urge to escape this beautiful nightmare nearly made her jump to her feet and run away. She took a deep breath, mentally chastising herself for such cowardly thoughts. Besides, where could she run and to whom?

Someone pulled the chair beside her out from the table and sat down. The scent of a sun-warmed spice with a hint of something she could only describe as male washed over her, and her stomach tumbled to her toes.

However, she didn’t have the time to waste small talk on her closest dinner companion, no matter how attractive he smelled, unless he could possibly be the—she bit her lip—this was mortifying.

A light touch on her bare shoulder made her stiffen. “Excuse me?”

Gathering her thoughts, Kate attempted to take a breath and rein in her emotions without anyone becoming any the wiser. “Just a moment, please,” she said softly, pleased that her voice didn’t betray her.

A large hand held out a napkin to her, just in her line of vision so that she didn’t have to turn or look up. “I think you need this,” he said softly.

His voice was low, American and...familiar. It couldn’t be him, could it? She hadn’t seen Noah in ages, not since that night in Holland Springs when he’d charmed her with talk of house building after Zoe and Christian’s wedding.

Noah Sawyer was tall and lean with dark hair and even darker eyes. His face ruggedly handsome, lips full, and the most stubborn-looking jaw. He exuded confidence and power even while his excitement seemed to make him come alive, and he wore a suit in such a way that made her knees weak.