Page 12 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

“You will be the belle of the ball,” Clara declared as she tucked a white rose in Evanna’s hair. “Just you wait and see.”

“I doubt that very much,” Evanna chuckled nervously. “I’m naught as dignified as ye, nae as beautiful. Do you want to know a secret?”

“I relish secrets.” Clara clapped her hands together, her sweet smile making her green eyes sparkle.

Oh, how Evanna loved her. Devoid of siblings she had placed Clara in her heart where a sister should have been.

Licking her lips, she leaned forward and whispered. “I think I’ll be a disaster.”

“Nonsense!” Clara dismissed her fears with one sweep of her elegant hand. “It’s not like we’re thrusting you out alone into society. I will be by your side like a shadow, and Mama will talk you up to the older ladies.”

“Ashton said I’d be the curio of the season.” Evanna made a face. “He said he’d give me company when you were swept away to dance by your multitude of suitors because no one would want to injure their feet dancing with me.”

“Oh, that Ashton,” Clara growled. “He makes me so mad at times. But I suppose he would know all about being in somebody’s shadow.”

“What do you mean?”

Clara placed a hand on her forehead. “I keep forgetting how little you know. Ashton is the second son. His older brother, John, is first in line to inherit the Earldom after Lord Winchester.”

“I still dinnae understand about the shadows.” Evanna plucked a blade of grass and twisted it around her index finger.

“John is everything a man should be,” Clara said, a pretty blush creeping into her cheeks. “He is handsome, cordial, thoughtful, and gracious. Ashton is neither handsome, nor gracious. He must feel rather put out because no one notices him when John is in residence.”

“I know I should pity him, but I find it rather hard after what he said to me.” Evanna pursed her lips in what she hoped was a demure expression.

“He’s harmless,” Clara assured. “I suppose it’s his way of trying to make friends with you. Instead of telling you how much he needs your company tomorrow, he’s twisted it around to make you think you need him.”

“What I need,” Evanna said, getting up off the grass, “is a pot of scalding tea.”

“Excellent idea!” Clara fetched their embroidery basket. “We can also sample some of Cook’s cream buns.”

They walked to the manor arm in arm, laughing. Evanna was so happy that she began to get nervous. Nothing good lasted too long, and as they approached the manor, a tiny fear began to grow in the small of her back that something horrible was going to happen soon to upset her joy.

Life was never one note; she had learned that early on. When the spring sun was out for too long, and the heady smell of flowers and sunshine suffused the halls, along came a storm to dash the petals from their stems and chase the sunshine away with a bitter cold wind.

She had managed to run away and reach her destination without incident. The Ashby’s had welcomed her with open arms, and she was going to her first ball tomorrow evening. Everything was going perfectly. Too perfectly. Something bad was going to come along to disrupt her contentment. What could it be? A sudden thunderstorm to ruin the ball? A sudden revolt from her hair? The ballgown being ruined?

Evanna shuddered to think of the possibilities.

A sudden movement in the window from the second floor of the manor made her look up sharply. A curtain was moving but there was no one there. Evanna narrowed her eyes, willing whoever it was to come back to the window, but it remained stubbornly empty. It could have been a maid, or anyone, really, but Evanna’s paranoia only increased.

They seated themselves in the back parlor, the room Evanna was beginning to love the most in the house. Tea was served, and the cream buns filled the room with their aroma. Evanna’s stomach growled. Anxiety for the future made her especially hungry. She was on her second bun when Lady Ashby joined them.

“Here you are,” she said, “ruining your appetites before supper.”

“We were famished, Mama.” Clara dabbed her lips with a napkin.

Evanna studiously dabbed her own lips, trying to imitate Clara’s movements. She adjusted the saucer in her hand to best copy Clara’s delicate hold and caught Lady Ashby’s amused eye. Evanna blushed.

“You’re making great progress, Evanna,” Lady Ashby encouraged. “But try not to lose yourself in it. Your unique personality and Scottish roots make you who you are.”

“And we love who you are,” Clara interjected, placing a warm hand on Evanna’s arm and squeezing.

“As will everyone at the ball tomorrow.” Lady Ashby smiled, then pursed her lips in a mischievous way. Her eyes sparkled. She looked like she was a little girl hiding a secret. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Evanna asked, quite forgetting to take another cream bun.

“The seamstress was quite enthusiastic about it being your first ball, so she completed your gown early. It’s in your room.”