Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

E velyn was moved into a room of her own, and after hugging Yvaine goodnight, she retired to her bedchamber. But while she was readying herself for bed, she heard a light knock on the door. Wrapping herself in her shawl, Evelyn opened it to find her father standing there.

"Hello, me dear. May I come in?"

"O' course, Faither."

Once they were both sitting beside the crackling fire, Evelyn looked at her father expectantly. She had no idea why he was there, and yet, he was clearly there for a reason.

"Are ye nervous?" Donald asked, cradling the whiskey she had given him.

"About marrying Benedict?" Evelyn asked with surprise.

"Well, ye ken, that, and…" he fumbled, "… the duties o' a wife."

"Well, Benedict isnae a laird, faither. I hardly think me duties will come tae much."

Donald shook his head. "Nay, nay, child. I dinnae mean those duties. When I say duties, I mean…" He hesitated again, his face going redder and redder.

It was only as she saw his embarrassment that Evelyn suddenly knew what her father meant. "Och, ye mean…" It was she who hesitated then, feeling the heat in her own cheeks.

"Aye." Her father nodded eagerly, clearly relieved that Evelyn had managed to understand what he meant.

For a moment, he didn't speak again, and then he muttered, "God, I wish yer maither were here. She would be so much better at all this than I." He heaved a sigh, and keeping his eyes on his glass, he said, "There are some things ye need tae ken, Evelyn. Ye are an innocent lass, and thus, there are things ye dinnae ken."

Och, me God! Is he going tae try and tell me about coupling?

"When a man lays down with a woman," he began, still not able to look her in the eye, "it can be strange. The first time, ye… ye," he flipped his right hand over and over again while he tried to find his words, "when ye, well, when ye lay together fer the first time."

This is torturous! And I cannae even tell him I ken what it's like. He still thinks I'm innocent. I cannae take that away from him.

"Faither, I'm sure I'll be fine," Evelyn said hurriedly, praying for this humiliation to end.

"Ye're a strong and determined lass, Evelyn, and I'm proud o' ye for all ye've achieved. I just want ye tae be ready."

"Ready?"

"Fer yer wedding night," he pressed. "The first time can be, well, it can be a little painful, and?—"

I cannae take anymore!

"Faither," Evelyn jumped up from her chair, "I'm sure all will be well. I need tae get plenty o' sleep, and I must insist that ye retire yersel'," she said, pulling him to his feet and ushering him to the door.

"Aye, aye, o' course," he replied, sounding more than a little relieved.

Upon reaching the door, Evelyn opened it, and continued guiding her father through it. "I love ye," she said, quickly pecking him on his cheek, "and I will see ye tomorrow."

Just as Evelyn was about to close the door, Donald turned to her. "I have just one more thing I would like tae say."

While Evelyn nearly dreaded the words that might fall from his lips, she pinned on a sweet smile and let him continue.

"I'm sorry for being so… so distant over the past year, Evelyn. Truly, I am. Benedict seems tae adore ye, and ye dinnae ken how glad that makes my heart. I only want ye tae discover the same love yer maither and I shared."

Evelyn's heart melted at his words, and noticing her father's eyes glistening, she stepped forward and flung her arms around his neck.

"I love ye, Faither," she whispered into the soft skin of his neck. "I've always loved ye. I ken ye miss Maither terribly. I miss her too."

She took a step back and gazed up at him. "And ye havenae been a bad faither. Ye've been a grieving faither. If I am honest, before I met Benedict, I didnae really understand how ye felt. Now, I ken how crushed I would be, how utterly devastated I would feel, if I lost him."

Donald nodded and swiped an escaping tear from his cheek. "Good night, me dear. Sweet dreams."

"Night, Faither," Evelyn replied, before slowly closing the door.

Evelyn remained perfectly still at the sound of creaking floorboards in her bedchamber. It had taken her ages to fall asleep with the excited thoughts of what tomorrow would bring, but she was now aware that someone was in her room. There had been no knock, for it would have wakened her, and now, as her heart thumped in her chest, she was terrified that one of Laird Keith's men had managed to sneak into the castle and was here to try and take her again.

The footsteps grew closer, but Evelyn had a plan. She had brought a tankard of water to her bedside which now stood half empty. It was hardly a great weapon, but if she could at least stun the man, she might have a chance to escape.

She could hear him near the bed now. His footsteps came closer and closer. Her heart thumped harder and harder. She held her breath as she sensed him getting closer still.

Peeking through one eye, she targeted the tankard.

Any second….

Now!

Flinging the covers back, she grabbed the tankard, and with all her might, lashed her arm out towards the approaching fiend.

"Ow. Bloody hell, Evelyn." Benedict hollered.

"Och, my God," she cried, hurriedly pushing herself up in the bed.

Staring up at him, Benedict stood there, his soaking wet hair dripping water onto his tunic, holding her arm with his other hand. He looked like a drowned rat. He was frowning down at her, but at the state of him, Evelyn could do nothing but burst into a fit of giggles.

"Ye think this is funny?" he growled, a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. "I'll show ye funny."

And with that, he clambered into the bed and rubbed his wet hair all over her face.

Evelyn shrieked and giggled even louder, while at the same time, trying to fight off his hairy attack.

Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her on top of him as he rolled onto the bed, and the two fell into hysterical laughter.

"Remind me never tae wake ye up unexpectedly," Benedict said, rubbing his arm unconsciously.

"I am sorry," Evelyn said. "But ye scared me half tae death. I thought ye were one o' Laird Keith's men."

Benedict shook his head. "There's nae a chance o' any o' those men entering this castle, Evelyn. I'm here and I'll always protect ye. Ye've naething tae worry about."

Evelyn smiled at him, then bent her head and tenderly kissed his arm where she had hit him with the tankard.

"There are other places that hurt too," Benedict said with a slow smile.

"Och, is there now?"

"Aye," he said. "It hurts here." He pointed to the base of his neck. Evelyn, knowing what he was doing, only smiled as she crawled up his body and tenderly brushed a kiss against the stubbly skin.

"And here." He pointed to his chin. She moved a little further and kissed his chin.

"And here." He pointed to his cheek.

She brushed her lips tenderly against his cheek.

"And here," he growled, pointing to his lips, his breath a little shallower now.

When Evelyn pressed her lips on his, Benedict wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her down onto him. He opened his mouth and slipped his tongue inside hers, flicking, and lashing across her teeth and tongue.

"I want ye so badly," he breathed, between his passionate kisses.

"And I want ye," Evelyn replied breathlessly.

"Good."

Rolling onto his side, he gently lay Evelyn on the bed beside him. His lips trailed down her neck while he untied her nightdress. A second later, his lips were on her breasts, soft, light kisses, making her nipples ache and peak.

"Ah," she gasped.

Benedict sucked on her pert nipple, making her writhe beneath him.

"Och, Evelyn. I am going tae take great pleasure in delighting ye fer all the day's o' our lives," he growled, moving from one breast to the other.

Evelyn could barely formulate words with the sensations that danced around her body. Her stomach clenched, her breasts ached, and she could feel her soft moistness growing hotter. It ached for his touch too, and writhing her hips, she wanted to feel his hands on her.

"Make love tae me, Benedict," she gasped. "Please."

He trailed his tongue around her breast once more, and then, gazing up at her, he shook his head.

"I cannae. Nae now. If yer faither finds me in here, he'll kill me."

"What dae ye mean? Why?" She roused herself from her ecstasy and gave him a wide-eyed look. "What time is it?"

"It was dawn when I arrived, me darling."

"What?" she gasped, pushing herself up in the bed.

"Aye, indeed." He grinned. "In fact, I'm certain—" He stopped for a second and tilted his head toward the door. "Is that the maids already?"

"Nae, it isnae? Is it?" Evelyn gasped, suddenly feeling mortified.

Benedict grinned again. "Och, but it is."

"What are we tae dae?" Evelyn began panicking. "They cannae find ye here."

"It's all right," he said calmly, dropping a quick kiss on her lips before clambering out of the bed. "This room has a secret door."

Leaving the bed, he moved across the room, and with a little effort, he shoved the dresser to the side. Behind it stood a door about half his size. He winked back at her over his shoulder. "It's a secret tunnel."

Their own castle had plenty of those, so Evelyn wasn't entirely surprised. What she could not understand was how Benedict planned on fitting through that tiny door.

"Ye're twice the size of that door. Unless ye chop yer legs off…"

She stopped as she heard the nearing voices of the maids' chatter. Leaping out of the bed, she reached the dresser just as Benedict was folding his huge frame through the small exit. It took some doing.

He glanced back with a beaming grin. "I love ye, me darling. I'll see ye soon."

Evelyn quickly closed the door, and with all the strength she could muster, shoved the dresser back against the wall, just as the maids knocked on the door.

Launching herself back across the room, she threw herself into bed, and pulling the covers up over herself, lay her head on the pillow.

"Who is it?" she groaned, as though she had just woken.

"'Tis the maids, me lady. It is time fer ye tae get ready."

"Come in," she called out in her feigned weary voice.

Evelyn didn't rise as they entered. She was too busy trying to settle her breathing. But once she appeared more like someone who had just woken up, rather than someone who had just moved a piece of furniture that weighed more than herself before leaping across the room and into bed, Evelyn finally rose, and let the maids get to work.

There seemed to be so many of them; one readying her clothes on the bed, another fixing the fire, yet another seeing to the bed pan, another opening the drapes. It was chaotic to say the least.

"Please, me lady. Will ye sit so I can brush yer hair?" a dark-haired maid about her age said.

Evelyn nodded, and moving towards the small table fitted with a mirror, did as she asked. Her mind was still on Benedict rushing from the room, and she could not help but smile as she recalled their earlier antics. It still felt a little surreal that, in less than a few hours, she would be his wife. Things had happened so fast, and yet, she could not be more grateful in how they had turned out.

The maid behind her produced a small glass bottle and handed it to Evelyn. Smiling at her through the mirror, she said, "I have a tonic fer ye, me lady."

"What is it fer?" Evelyn asked.

The maid looked about her, checking to make sure no one else was listening, and then lowered her voice. "It's tae help with the nerves, me lady." She smiled. "It has a little whisky in it too."

Admittedly, Evelyn didn't feel very nervous, but then, the day had only begun. Perhaps later, when she arrived at the chapel, those nerves might just kick in. Evelyn took the bottle and placed it in the pocket of her housecoat.

"Nae, me lady. Ye will have tae take it now. There will be nowhere fer ye tae carry it later," the lass urged.

"Och, o' course," Evelyn replied, forgetting she was about to be donned in her wedding gown. How anyone who was getting married could forget such a thing, she didn't know. Perhaps she was nervous after all. Uncorking the lid, she tipped the tonic down her throat and swallowed it. The sour after taste made Evelyn screw up her face.

"It's good stuff, me lady." The maid grinned.

Some of the maids had already left, but a few moments later, the same maid started calling to the others. "Go now, and ready Lady Sinclair's bath. We still have much tae dae."

The other maids nodded and, muttering to each other, gathered items of clothing and hurriedly left the room.

Evelyn was about to ask if the maid had seen Yvaine yet, when she suddenly began feeling rather woozy.

"Och, me head," she said, lifting her hand to her forehead.

"Are ye well, me lady?" the maid said, looking at her intently through the mirror.

But as Evelyn looked back, she noticed a strange expression on the woman's face. It was not quite concern, but more like she was watching to see what was about to happen.

She then left from brushing Evelyn's hair and walked directly to the dresser that covered the hidden door. Huffing and puffing, she began pushing it the same way Benedict had done not half an hour earlier.

"What on earth are ye doing?" Evelyn slurred. Her voice sounded strange, and following the earlier wooziness, she now began to feel faint.

The maid ignored her, continuing to shift the dresser with great difficulty. Once it was finally out of the way, she then opened the door. Immediately, two men squeezed through the tiny space.

"What the devil is going on?" Evelyn cried, trying hard to speak clearly, but failing miserably.

A second later, they were looming toward her, only, they too, now looked blurry.

"Wait," she gasped, feeling suddenly ill. But just as she was about to call out again, her eyelids dropped, and her world went black.