Page 1 of The Winter Laird

Prologue

Brianagh O’Rourke carefully adjusted the elbow-length veil. She smoothed the ribbon-lined edges into place, then blew out a shaky breath.

Taking a final, critical look in the mirror, Bri felt a flash of triumph overcome her nerves. This moment was almost two years in the making. A difficult courtship almost failed at the last moment, mostly because of one partner’s inability to commit, threatening their happily-ever-after. Brianagh redoubled her efforts, giving the relationship the lion’s share of her time. Late nights, early mornings, frantic phone calls…and in the end, it worked out.

It always did, she thought proudly.

She met Kristen’s clear gaze in the mirror. “You made it.”

“I did,” her client said dreamily.

“You look lovely.” Brianagh smoothed her hand over the veil again, drawing a smile from Kristen Bouchement, her most difficult client to date.

“I hope Justin thinks so. I can’t believe I found my soul mate…and it’s all thanks to you,” Kristen said softly. “I wish I listened to you sooner. I would’ve been married a year already.”

“Justin would wait an eternity for you.” Brianagh infused just the right amount of happiness before switching back to professionalism. “But let’s not make him wait any longer, okay?”

Kristen laughed, a sound Bri was more than happy to hear after the panicked phone calls just the week before, when Kristen decided she couldn’t possibly love Justin as much as he did her, and how did one go about breaking off an engagement as high-profile as theirs?

Two years ago, Boston’s most talked-about socialite—and only daughter of the state senator—waltzed into Bri’s then up-and-coming matchmaking service, Celtic Connections. Kristen presented Brianagh with a massive challenge: take a list of must-have “husband qualities” and find Kristen the perfect husband…before her father ran in the next presidential election.

The “husband qualities” included old wealth, politics, good looks, more than two estates—preferably on both coasts—no false teeth, limited use of hair product, and family ties to oil.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that your company’s one hundred percent success rate holds true.”

Brianagh stepped back to let the wedding planner fuss with Kristen’s earrings and allowed herself a true smile. “I’m happy to agree with you.”

Celtic Connections was now Boston’s most selective and successful matchmaking service. As they took on only a few select clients per year, they could dedicate a significant amount of time and resources to finding the perfect match. And Brianagh O’Rourke always found the perfect match.

Kristen’s match, Justin, had exactly what Bri knew she needed—a level-headed, easygoing personality and the patience of a saint. Kristen resisted, as his money was “new” and he hadn’t any ties to politics, but in the end, love and common sense prevailed, and Justin, the CFO of a local banking chain without any ties to oil—but with a full set of natural teeth—stood ready for his bride.

Brianagh checked on him earlier in the afternoon, when he was pacing and damning the fact that he agreed to a three o’clock wedding, wishing he had pushed for a brunch.

“Because we’d be married already, and I can’t wait a minute longer!” he burst out in frustration.

Bri gave him her usual speech about how long he’d waited, that another two hours wasn’t going to kill him, that Kristen was also dying to see him in the church…it was the same song and dance she played at each wedding she attended.

Kristen and Justin were her sixteenth match—her eighth high profile match—in four years.

“It’s your turn now, Brianagh,” Kristen said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts.

Bri smiled, a touch of practiced understanding in her gaze. “It’s every bride’s wish to see everyone around them happy.”Everyhappybride’s wish, she amended silently.

This part of the job, she recognized, was possibly the worst. Her unmarried state didn’t deter any of her clients, but, when she stood with them in their dressing room before the nuptials, most of them made a statement similar to Kristen’s. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters. She most certainly did, and refused to match anyone whom she believed wouldn’t be a true and loving spouse to someone.

She just didn’t believe in her own happily-ever-after. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, but she was too busy ensuring everyone else got their fairytale ending.

“Matthew simply fawns over you. I think he might be the one,” Kristen added conspiratorially. “I wish you the same kind of happiness you found for me!”

Bri forced a smile.Fawningwas a gross overstatement. She was lucky if she garnered her boyfriend’s attention for more than it took for the next phone call to come in.

Matthew de Burgh moved in the same circles as Kristen. He was a huge supporter of Senator Bouchement, and when Kristen introduced him to Bri…well, if sparks didn’t exactly fly, she felt more for Matthew than she had for anyone else, and that was enough for her. As the founder of a matchmaking service, she knew there was a lot to be said for a comfortable relationship. All-consuming lust wasn’t onhermust-have list of husband qualities.

Her Director of Registration strongly disagreed with her line of thinking, but as he was also her cousin, Brianagh ignored his opinions of her life as often as possible.

“That is so sweet of you to say, Kristen. All I did was introduce you to each other. You and Justin followed your hearts…and now, it’s time to follow that heart down the aisle.”

The wedding planner, whom Brianagh recommended to Kristen, seamlessly took over the interaction and directed Kristen out of the room, into her teary-eyed father’s arms. A moment later, the bride, her father, and her wedding planner were gone.

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