Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

E velyn knew he was avoiding her. She also knew why. The kiss they had shared in the village should never have happened, and yet, it had felt blissfully delightful. The whole day had been wonderful, and Evelyn had recalled it several times since. The villagers had welcomed Benedict warmly, clearly believing him to be their laird, and Benedict had reciprocated, knowing them all by name, even though he wasn't.

Watching him interact with them had warmed Evelyn's heart, and had only made her desire him more, which was hardly ideal, given the fact that she was marrying his brother.

And then, there was the gift of the pendant.

Not surprisingly, her father hadn't noticed, but Yvaine had spotted it the moment she lay eyes upon her sister. Evelyn had not been able to stop herself gushing at receiving such a beautiful gift, and had told her sister everything that had occurred, including the tender kiss. But while Yvaine had been delighted and excited, Evelyn had reminded her that nothing could come of it.

Since then, Benedict had tried to hide his lies as he made excuse after excuse to her father, why he would not be available to spend any time with her. It had been days now, and though she knew it was for the best, her heart had not stopped aching.

Her father was growing suspicious, and beginning to question Benedict's avoidance. Not knowing, of course, that Benedict was not Audor, the laird had made mention of Benedict's lack of attention on a couple of occasions.

"One has tae wonder if Laird Gunn is having second thoughts," he had said the other day, once Benedict and Killian had left the Sinclair's to finish their breakfast alone.

"I'm sure he's just very busy, Faither," Yvaine had said, casting a quick glance at her sister.

"Aye, Faither," Evelyn had added. "Ye said so yersel' only last week. A laird has much tae dae. I'm sure Audor isnae any different than yersel' in that regard. He loves his people and has tae spend many hours making certain that all is well across his clan lands."

But their father's expression remained the same, even as the sisters tried their best to alleviate his fears. Clearly, their reasoning did little to help, and with a face like stone, he had only grunted at their words.

That morning at breakfast, the same had occurred, and once more, their father had made mention of the laird's lack of attention. "Perhaps it is time I had a quiet word with yer future husband," he had growled.

"Faither, please," Evelyn had said, throwing her arm out and laying her hand on his. "From what I have noted, Laird Gunn is a decent and honest man. I dinnae think, if he had had a change o' heart, that he would keep such a thing from ye."

Laird Sinclair had given Evelyn an intense look. After a few seconds, he had nodded abruptly, removed his hand, and stood from the table. "I ken ye are yet young and still a little na?ve, Evelyn. But a man who has lived as long as I, kens when something isnae right. And something isnae right. I can feel it in me bones."

He had stormed from the room with a determined stride, leaving Evelyn and Yvaine to share a worried glance.

In the afternoon, after their father had retired to his bedchamber for a nap, Yvaine suggested they take a walk around the gardens. Evelyn gladly agreed. Perhaps some fresh air would take her mind off the gnawing feelings that had been eating away at her for the last few days.

A part of her was glad Audor had not yet returned from wherever he had gone. While she could not stop the wedding from occurring, these days of him being away gave her some reprieve. On the other hand, it also let her heart and mind wander, and the desire she felt for Benedict was only growing by the day. Perhaps this delay in the wedding was not a good thing. While she was still free, the temptation to stray was an enticement she struggled to fight against.

As they wandered across the lawns at the front of the castle. Evelyn lifted her hand. "Och, look," she breathed excitedly, pointing to Killian and Benedict readying themselves to train.

"So much for a distraction," Evelyn murmured.

"Pardon?" Yvaine said.

"It doesnae matter." Evelyn shook her head.

"Come, we should watch them," her sister exclaimed.

But Evelyn was uncertain. "Maybe this isnae such a good idea, Yvaine."

"Och, dinnae talk such nonsense. In a few weeks, ye will be married. Ye are yet still yer own person until then. Surely, there isnae any harm in sitting here beneath this tree, watching two men spar."

Evelyn gave her sister a knowing look, but Yvaine just beamed a mischievous smile back, and taking her sister's hand, she pulled her to the ground to sit beside her.

"I honestly dinnae ken how ye are dealing with all o' this, Evelyn," Yvaine said a few minutes later, her tone now somber. "I ken yer heart is breaking, even if ye're pretending it isnae."

Evelyn took a deep breath in and then sighed. "Sometimes, life just isnae fair, Yvaine. Just like Mother being taken from us."

"I miss her so much," Yvaine replied sadly.

"As do I," Evelyn replied. "I have wished so many times that she was here tae see me getting married. But, alas. It isnae tae be."

The sisters sat and watched as the men fought. Both were huge men, and both fought with great strength, but Evelyn only had eyes for Benedict. She watched his muscles ripple with each strike, from the solid calves of his legs to what she could see through his shirt of the taut mass of his huge shoulders.

This is hardly helping ye, Evelyn.

And yet, she could not pull her eyes away. In fact, the more she watched him, the more she realized how attracted to him she really was. A soft wind caught the bottom of her frock, carrying it high in the air.

"Och, good lord," she cried, grabbing it with her hands and pressing the skirt back onto her legs again.

At that same second, a loud cry came from the men, and glancing over, Evelyn watched Killian rushing to Benedict's side.

"He's hurt," Evelyn gasped, pushing herself to her feet.

Yvaine swiftly stood, and watching the men hurry away, the sisters followed quickly behind.

"Are ye all right, me laird?" Yvaine called out as they caught up to them.

"I am fine," Benedict growled, clearly annoyed by all the fuss. "Please. It is only a slight cut. The healer will mend it."

But as Evelyn caught his eye, her face a picture of worry, Benedict's gaze softened. "I'm fine, Evelyn. Truly."

Upon reaching the healer's cottage, and stepping inside, it quickly became evident that the old woman was not home.

"Ye see. She's nae even here," Benedict said, sounding somehow vindicated. "I will bandage it mesel'."

"I ken how tae dress it," Evelyn said quickly. "Please, me laird. "Will ye nae let me help ye?"

Benedict and Killian shared a glance, though Evelyn did not understand the look that passed between the men.

"I'm sure the laird kens well how tae take care o' his own wound," Killian said.

"Och, that is such nonsense," Yvaine retorted. "Look where it is on his arm? It makes far more sense tae let Evelyn take care o' it."

"I appreciate yer concern, Miss Sinclair," Killian bit back, "but it may be a bit much fer me lady tae have tae deal with."

"Me sister has seen far worse," Yvaine came back.

While this was going on, Evelyn was already searching the shelves and gathering alcohol, rags, and cloth bandages.

"I am sure we can cope with it," Killian retorted.

"Are ye too proud tae accept a little help?"

Evelyn could take the racket no longer, and glaring at both of them she said, "That is enough bickering, both o' ye. I can hardly hear mesel' think. Out!"

While Yvaine and Killian did as they were bid, the argument continued once they were out in the courtyard. They could still be heard inside the healer's cottage,.

With the cottage peaceful again, Evelyn turned to Benedict.

"Now. Let me take a look at it."

Towering over her, Benedict slipped out of the plaid that diagonally crossed his body. He then pulled his shirt loose from the waist, and grabbing it with two hands, peeled it off himself.

Evelyn's eyes grew wider and wider as more of his body was revealed. His solid stomach, his huge chest, and eventually, once he had pulled the tunic over his head and discarded it onto a nearby chair, the full breadth of his shoulders. Hardly able to control her reaction, she could only stand there with her mouth hanging open. Her eyes traced across the mass of the man, moving upwards until she reached his eyes.

They were gazing down at her with amusement, along with the smile at the corner of his mouth. Evelyn quickly turned away, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.

"Let me guess," he said confidently. "Ye've never seen a naked man ‘afore?"

"Nae one like ye, at any rate," Evelyn murmured, hurriedly pretending to organize the already organized items she had gathered.

"Please. Sit," she said, still struggling to look at him.

Benedict did so, and to keep her eyes busy, she took a long look at the injury on his upper arm. It wasn't a huge gash, but it was certainly deep enough. After dabbing the alcohol on the rag, she gently wiped the cut, and heard Benedict hissing through his teeth.

Her eyes flew wide as she looked at him. "I'm so sorry."

Though the pain was evident on his face, he shook his head. "It's fine."

His eyes softened as he gazed at her with the same desire she had seen several times already. Standing so close to his nakedness, Evelyn felt a little breathless herself, and slowly, she gazed back at him, feeling the same fire in her belly that Benedict always seemed to ignite when he was anywhere near her.

Getting back to her job, she lightly dabbed the wound again. "I can see yer nae stranger tae a wound," she said, clearly seeing the white lines of scarring dashed at different places across his body.

"Aye. And they've all been a lot worse than this," he said, nodding down at the gash. "Killian has worse scars than I. He's the best warrior we have."

"Aye, I can see that," Evelyn said, smirking and nodding towards the window where he and Yvaine were still apparently arguing. As she cleaned the wound, she continued. "The two o' ye are very close. I ken ye are cousins, but he's very protective of ye."

"Aye. He's a good man considering all he's suffered."

Her hands kept working, but Evelyn cast him a glance. "What dae ye mean, suffered?"

"Killian's parents were killed when he was only a boy of six."

"Oh, God," Evelyn gasped.

Benedict nodded. "Me parents took him in, of course. He grew up with me and… me braither." Evelyn tried not to react at his hesitation, for she was certain he had been about to say Audor before he managed to stop himself. "And he's been here ever since. By relation, he's me cousin. In reality, he's far more than that."

"He's lucky tae have ye and yer braither," Evelyn said, pressing a clean piece of cloth against the wound.

"Aye, well. We've been there fer each other. When our parents were killed, Killian was there for us too."

His words felt heavy on her heart, and resting a hand gently on his shoulder, she gazed at him with the sadness she felt. "I'm so sorry that happened tae ye."

Benedict gazed back at her sadly and nodded. "It is what it is."

It was evident, due to his somber tone, that Benedict did not want to talk anymore about it. Having bandaged the wound, Evelyn wondered how she could change the subject, while at the same time, not sound too insensitive.

Her eye caught a potion sitting on the shelf to her right, and lifting it down to show him, she said, "Dae ye ken, this potion is the closest I've ever been to actually being drunk."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the bottle in her hand. "That bottle?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously nae this bottle. We have a healer at our castle too, ye ken," she said mockingly. "But I've never been drunk ‘afore. I've always wanted tae see what it was like, but I'm too scared o' what might happen. I've seen so many people make utter fools o' themselves, and I dinnae want tae dae that."

He seemed surprised at her confession, and then a mischievous smirk danced at the corner of his mouth. "Every person should get drunk at least once in their lifetime, it's like a right ‘o passage. In fact," he continued, growing a little more excited, "we will go tae the village tonight and dae that very thing."

"I couldnae," Evelyn cried, now feeling terrified.

"Och, come on, Evelyn. I'll be right there beside ye. I promise. I'll nae let ye make a fool o' yersel."

As tempting as it was, she still eyed him suspiciously.

"Hand on heart," he said, placing his hand against his naked chest.

The sensible part of her was swiftly overtaken with an excitement that rushed through her body, and Yvaine's words returned to her.

"In a few weeks, ye will be married. Ye are still yer own person until then."

While it ought to feel wrong, Evelyn ignored her usual disciplined conscience, and throwing caution to the wind, nodded her head eagerly. "All right. I will. But only if we keep it a secret. I cannae have me faither discovering what we're doing."

He rewarded her impulsive decision with a wide grin and a nod. "Ye're on."

After dinner that evening, during which her father had been dismissive at best, Evelyn and Yvaine waited eagerly in their bedchamber for Benedict's arrival.

Yvaine appeared even more excited than Evelyn felt, and nearly skipping around the room, she could not contain her delight. "This is just perfect," she cried, her eyes dancing with the thrill of it all. "Ye cannae ken how proud I am of ye doing this, Evelyn."

"Aye, well. Let's just hope Faither doesnae hear of it," Evelyn replied. She was nervous and excited, and yet, now, as she waited to leave, her nerves seemed to be getting the better of her.

"And what if he daes?" Yvaine replied. "He can hardly say anything if yer betrothed takes ye out tae the village. He hasnae stopped complaining about the laird ," she emphasized those words with a smirk, "nae spending any time with ye. He would be a hypocrite if he did so now."

"But he's nae the laird though, is he?"

"Faither doesnae ken that," Yvaine countered.

Evelyn took a deep breath in. "Let us pray tae the gods that he never discovers it."

A light knock on the door made both sisters jump, and then Yvaine beamed another delighted smile. "He's here." Turning to look at Evelyn, she lowered her voice and said, "Are ye ever going tae tell Benedict that ye ken it is him?"

Evelyn shook her head. "I cannae. If I tell him, then he'll ken that all those moments between us, that kiss in the village, those soft gazes we've shared, all of it will have all been for him, and nae Audor. I will be admitting tae betraying his braither. Then what will he think o' me?"