Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

" A re ye absolutely sure?" Yvaine gasped, gawping at Evelyn.

"I am absolutely certain," Evelyn replied.

"But how can ye tell? They both look identical. And anyway, it doesnae make any sense. Why would Laird Gunn go off without telling anyone and leave Benedict standing in fer him and courting his own bride?"

"I dinnae ken. I didnae ask. If this is the ruse they want tae play, I will go along with it." Evelyn shrugged as she brushed her hair before bed. "But I can tell ye without a shadow o' a doubt. The man I spent the day with was Benedict Gunn. Nae the laird."

It had certainly been a crazy day, and as the sisters continued to ready themselves for bed, Evelyn reduced Yvaine to tears of laughter when she told her all about it. But when all the laughter was over, and they were settled beneath the coverlets, Evelyn's mind wandered to a part of that afternoon that still made her heart flutter when she thought about it.

He may well have been playing the part of his brother, but when Benedict had held her in his arms after she had made that terrifying jump, something had happened between them. Something that should not have happened. But just like that evening in the library, she had been swept up in the moment. Lost in the soft gaze of those beautiful green eyes.

Benedict had felt it too. She was certain that was the reason he had made that remark about what was under her frock. He had been as lost as she, and realizing that whatever it was they both felt simply could not be, he had swiftly brought them out of their stupor.

It was evident that he had kept her promise and not told Audor about their time together in the library. If he had, perhaps the laird would have thought twice about leaving his brother to take his place while he was away. But now, she was faced with a dilemma. How was she supposed to spend this time with Benedict, and at the same time, control her feelings, which were clearly growing ever stronger? Maybe it was for the best if the two of them saw less of each other until Audor returned.

It appeared Benedict must have come to the same conclusion as Evelyn, for she did not see him for the entirety of the next day. Evelyn and Yvaine filled their hours wandering around the castle and the castle gardens.

In the afternoon sun, they sat together in the ornate gardens. Evelyn read a book she had taken from the library, and Yvaine worked on her needlepoint.

"I am going tae miss ye so much when ye are married," Yvaine said, out of the blue.

Evelyn turned and looked at her sister with a feeling of sadness. "And I will miss ye, dear sister."

"What Faither is making ye dae isnae fair. In fact, I think it is wrong," Yvaine said with an unusual harshness to her tone.

"He's doing what's best fer the clan, Yvaine. Ye ken that."

"And what about ye? What is best for ye? He hasnae considered that, has he? Nay," she continued, answering her own question. "He's too swallowed up in his own grief tae even care about his daughter's feelings."

"Would ye prefer that Laird Keith destroy our clan entirely?" Evelyn said kindly. "Perhaps Faither is thinking about us. Perhaps this is the only way he feels he can protect us. He's already lost Maither. I dinnae think he could take it if he lost his daughters too."

Yvaine didn't reply for a long time. Evelyn understood her sister's concerns, and she, more than anyone, did not want to go through with this wedding. But her sacrifice would protect the clan. Maybe it would protect Yvaine and her father even more.

"I suppose ye have a point," Yvaine said sullenly. "I just hate it."

"I ken, me dear," Evelyn said, placing a comforting hand on her sister's arm. "I'm nae overly thrilled about it, either. But this is bigger than ye or me. We have tae remember that."

At dinner that evening, Benedict sat in the chair Audor would usually occupy at the high table. While her father and Killian sat to Benedict's left, Evelyn sat at his right, with Yvaine seated beside her.

"Good evening, me laird," Evelyn said, once she was settled.

"Good evening," he said, looking at her, and then gazing at the others at the table, extending his greeting to them all. "I apologize fer nae being present today. I have had business tae attend tae."

While Evelyn suspected his main business had been to avoid her, her father nodded knowingly. "Ye have nae need tae apologize. Ye have a heavy burden on yer shoulders. Many dinnae realize just how much work being a laird requires."

"Indeed," Benedict said.

Yvaine raised her eyebrows at Evelyn, her expression showing her disbelief. In return, Evelyn widened her eyes at her sister, wordlessly trying to tell her to mind herself. Benedict could not discover that they knew who he was.

As the food was served, Benedict said, "I will be absent again tomorrow. I am needed in the village tae deal with some issues. Naething o' great importance, but things that need addressing. I am afraid it will be another day I willnae be able tae spend with Evelyn."

She knew what he was doing. He was finding ways to avoid her that didn't look obvious, which, under the circumstances, Evelyn found rather touching. He was the laird , after all. He need not explain himself.

"Perhaps, if I am nae being too presumptuous," Donald replied, "it might be fitting if Evelyn goes with ye. As yer bride, it would be good fer her tae meet the people in yer charge. She will have tae get tae ken them sooner or later. Ye will discover, me laird, that me daughter is rather adept at getting people tae trust her."

Evelyn was a little taken aback at her father's compliment. It had been so long since she had heard one from him. Of course, his timing could not have been any worse, and given the fact that his point was a valid one, she had no way to argue with it. Nor, it seemed, did Benedict.

"I, er," he floundered for a second, and then apparently came to the same conclusion as Evelyn. "O' course, me laird. What a splendid idea."

Once more, Evelyn and Yvaine shared a look. This time, however, her sister was beaming with delight. Yvaine only wanted Evelyn to be happy, and perhaps she thought her sister spending time with him would do just that. But Evelyn had not expressed her deeper feelings to Yvaine. Nor had she told her how she feared them.

"Ye are nae pleased?" Yvaine whispered with a frown.

"This isnae the place tae explain it," Evelyn whispered back. She glanced over her shoulder, but the men were talking among themselves, and thankfully, paying no attention to them.

"But ye like him," Yvaine argued.

"Which is exactly the problem," Evelyn hissed.

Yvaine continued to frown, until eventually, the realization hit her, and her eyes flew wide. "Och."

"Exactly," Evelyn said.

"Och, Evelyn." Yvaine looked suddenly sad.

Evelyn grabbed her sister's hand and held her tightly. "This isnae the time or place, Yvaine. We will talk later. Please, smile. I cannae have anyone else kenning."

Yvaine pinned a weak smile on her lips. "All right."

Only once Evelyn was satisfied that Yvaine understood what she needed to do, did she turn around and continue to eat, attempting to join in on the conversation.

Killian seemed to be highly entertained about something, and was regaling Donald with some story.

"…he met her at the Mackay wedding, and he hasnae stopped talking about his mystery woman since. Ye would have thought he might have asked her name."

"I'm sure the laird isnae interested in hearing about me braither's pursuits, Killian," Benedict interrupted hurriedly.

"Och, I dae. I'm rather intrigued now," Donald replied.

Evelyn could hardly believe what she was hearing, and holding her breath, she looked at the worried expression on Benedict's face.

"As are we all," Killian continued with a wide grin. "Benedict hasnae stopped searching fer her since the wedding, but he has nay idea who she is. Instead, we have had tae listen tae him pining fer her fer three whole weeks."

While her father was engrossed in the story, Evelyn was speechless. Benedict had been pining for her? He had searched for her?

At that very second, Benedict caught Evelyn's wide-eyed stare.

"Me braither," he said bashfully, clearly trying to play the circumstance down, while at the same time, covering his own reaction.

Yvaine nudged Evelyn's elbow and gave her a huge grin, but Evelyn was uncertain how she ought to react. Quickly remembering that it was Benedict sitting beside her, she closed her mouth, for it had been gaping open with shock. Since that breathless encounter in the library, he had not left her mind, but she had no idea he had experienced the same.

"Well, perhaps when Benedict returns from his travels," Donald said, "he can regale us with more details. Perhaps we can all search fer her, so he can court her."

Upon hearing her father's words, Yvaine, who had been taking a sip of wine, suddenly choked on it, and began coughing and spluttering. Gone was the grin, and as Evelyn patted her back, her sister now looked terribly worried.

Killian appeared behind her, offering her a napkin. "Are ye all right, Yvaine?" His face was marred with concern.

Evelyn could not help but note that this was the first time he had actually been kind to her. From the moment they had arrived, the two had taken a distinct dislike to each other.

But Yvaine could not answer. She was too busy gasping for air in between her hacking coughs. It took a few moments, but when the redness finally drained from Yvaine's face, Killian returned to his seat. The sisters shared another worried look, but neither spoke a word.

"Are ye all right, Yvaine?" Benedict asked, leaning forward to speak to her.

"I'm fine, me laird. Thank ye."

Benedict nodded, and then glanced at Evelyn. His expression was a mixture of worry and embarrassment. But then, he flashed her a smile, and clearly swallowing whatever it was he was feeling, took on playing his part of the laird once more.