Page 45 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

Part of her wanted to escape back to childhood where she was safe under her father’s loving care, instead of being frightened at his frailty; when she could play and run around the castle and not have to mediate the quarrels between staff members. If she were still a child, she would be safe in her one-sided love for Aleck and not torn between marriage to John and uprooting to England, and devotion to Aleck Bryce and her home.

The fields reminded her of the green ocean, but instead of feeling the overwhelming sense of being small, she felt safe. The grass tickled her stockinged ankles. The smell of rain and sunshine mingled together in the air, making a heady scent anyone could get drunk on.

Spying the perfect tree, Evanna nestled between its raised roots and considered the letters. Both Clara and Ashton had written to her. Joy filled her knowing she had two friends out there in the world.

Knowing Clara’s letter was the most recent as Ashton was still on the Continent and his mail would be delayed, she decided to read Ashton’s first. The paper was thinner than the parchment he usually used and smelled of resin. Evanna opened it up carefully and was overjoyed to see Ashton’s thin and slanted writing. It was on similar thin paper as the envelope which was unusual. Fortunately, it was the first thing he addressed in his letter.

Dearest Evanna,

I apologize for writing on this substandard paper. I have run out of my personal stationery and would not have subjected you to such low-quality reading material if it weren’t a matter of great urgency.

I have heard from our mutual angel in London that John has received an invitation to Glenlivet. It is reported that my family is in high spirits at the prospect of an engagement, though Clara assures me a proposal has not yet been made. It appears that the trip is a preamble to eventual nuptials.

So, I sit here, under the gaze of a beautiful setting sun, ignoring the calls to explore the side streets of Granada and the adventures that await within them, writing to you because time is of the essence.

I must urge you, sincerely, to refuse John’s proposal.

I am aware that you have more than a little regard for my brother. I also know that if he were to ask for your hand, you will not refuse. This is why it is imperative that you heed my advice.

You might have noticed that John and I are very different men. I will be the first to admit that John has not only inherited the title and the good looks, but also a special talent for making friends that I do not possess. However, while most know John Winchester, heir to the Earl of Winchilsea, gentleman and charmer; they do not know the man. He is my brother, and I have nothing but love for him, but he is not the right man for you.

Unfortunately, I cannot speak in detail. Paper is not a good vessel to carry secrets, and this paper inspires nothing but doubt as to its ability in reaching you without crumbling into dust. Therefore, I shall not burden such paper with more than it can carry.

Trust me when I say that I will come home soon and unburden myself to you fully. Till then, consider my advice, and in light of the love you have for me, if you will not refuse him please wait for me before you announce your engagement.

Forever your friend,

Ashton.

To say that Evanna was shocked by the contents of the letter would be an understatement. It was common knowledge that the Winchester boys did not see eye to eye, but to have such a low opinion of one’s own brother was surprising to Evanna. So blindsided was she by Ashton’s entreaties to refuse John that she couldn’t formulate any thoughts on it. Her mind was a complete blank, as if the information were like oil, and any thought she tried to apply to it slipped clean away.

Deciding to come to Ashton’s advice later, she read Clara’s much shorter letter.

Evanna dearest,

How we miss you here in London. Papa mentioned only yesterday that he often finds himself looking over my shoulder when I enter a room, hoping to see you. He has become so accustomed to your lovely presence in the house he is now debating whether to write to Laird MacLeod to invite you for another summer in London.

How is Laird MacLeod? Was he very cross with you? I’m sure he was not. No one can stay angry with you for long. You inspire such good humor with your wonderful ways, it is impossible to nurse a grudge against you.

You will never guess who came to tea yesterday. Lady Bedelia Winchester! I believe you met Ashton’s mother at the ball in Grosvenor Square. Well, it will please you to know that she was making inquiries about you! I believe I got the impression that she was very pleased with the idea of a match for John.

So, there you have it. Everyone here is pleased with the possibility of your marrying John. Now if only Laird MacLeod will also consent; you must be happy with the union. I know well how your heart aches and dwells in doubt, but John is a good man, and I know he will make you very happy. Even if it is as a friend. Believe me, Evanna, a marriage can be a long journey, and it helps having a friend by your side. John might not be your burning passion, but he can be your friend.

Wishing you happiness and contentment,

Clara.

Evanna hugged the letter to her. Clara was the only person in the entire world Evanna had unburdened herself to. It was a boon hearing her thoughts repeated by another. It made her feel less alone in the world.

She was in a right pickle, wasn’t she? Folding her letters, she tucked them into a small pocket inside her cloak and stood up to think her thoughts through while taking a vigorous walk. She hadn’t lied about picking up the habit of taking long walks on the Continent.

Things were finally falling into place. Among the men she had met in England and on the Continent, none had been as appealing as John Winchester. It was true what Clara said, in John she had a friend. He was charming, sweet, and considerate of her. The spark of passion that she felt for Aleck was completely missing with John, but lots of marriages had stable foundations in which love was never an ingredient. It had never been stated that everyone would get love in their life. Just because her parents had been lucky enough to have it, didn’t mean she would too.

It had taken her years to come to terms with this fact, but it still hurt. No matter how much her mind counseled her against the miserable thoughts of a loveless life, her heart always seemed to win. Sometimes she hated her heart so much she wished she could rip it out of her chest and throw it in the fire where it could burn away to ashes.

She was mulling over these thoughts when she heard noises coming from a copse of trees. They gave her pause. It wasn’t the usual sounds of people talking or even working. She heard a man and a woman, and the woman sounded distressed. Not thinking much of the consequences, and whether she should stay out of something private, Evanna walked over to the copse of trees to get a better look.

“It’ll do wonders to your complexion,” the man was saying. “Just a little bit of magic dust and you’ll see how the boys line up for favors.”