Bridget MacLeod needs some space from her well-intentioned but overbearing family who've been crowding around her since her husband's death. How can she keep her late husband's secret and explain to them that her arranged marriage was pleasant but passionless, that she lost a friend but not a lover. Seeking a change of scenery, she arrives in Arisaig only to find she has no place to stay, unless she accepts the offer from a family friend.
Alasdair MacDonald remembers Bridget well from when she stitched a wound in his leg last spring. Her touch was light and gentle, but she was a married woman. She may not be married now, but her husband's passing is too recent for the honorable Alasdair to do more than invite her to stay with his boisterous family.
But someone notices the way Alasdair looks at Bridget, someone who will stop at nothing to make Alasdair her own.
Alasdair MacDonald remembers Bridget well from when she stitched a wound in his leg last spring. Her touch was light and gentle, but she was a married woman. She may not be married now, but her husband's passing is too recent for the honorable Alasdair to do more than invite her to stay with his boisterous family.
But someone notices the way Alasdair looks at Bridget, someone who will stop at nothing to make Alasdair her own.
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