Page 21 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

CHAPTER EIGHT

Benedict was waiting in front of the stables when Evelyn approached. She looked no less beautiful that day as any other day, garnered in a pretty deep green gown. As difficult as it was, he forced himself to swallow the desire that arose at the sight of her.

“Good day tae ye, me laird,” she said as she approached.

“I thought we were using our Christian names?” he teased with a smile.

She smiled back and nodded. “Forgive me oversight,” she quipped, repeating his words from the day before.

As they rode their horses out of the castle and headed toward the village, Evelyn said, “Were ye nae at the village yesterday?”

Benedict frowned. “Whatever gave ye that idea?”

“Well, at breakfast the other morning, Killian made mention o’ it. He said that ye needed tae speak tae a village member.”

He searched his brain for such an occurrence, and then remembered Killian’s words. They had agreed to say such a thing in front of everyone simply to assert that he was laird. It was a stupid suggestion, as far as Benedict was concerned, but Killian had said it was imperative to keep up pretenses. Now, of course, the lie had come back to bite him.

But what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell her he had been to the village. If he had gone yesterday, it would be nonsensical that he was returning today. Besides, the welcome from the villagers, for they always welcomed Audor so enthusiastically, would certainly give it away. He expected they would be delighted to see him when they arrived. Their reaction would give Evelyn reason for suspicion if they greeted him with the same delight two days in a row.

So, what am I supposed tae tell her?

By a miracle, an idea came to him. He had already deduced she was a smart woman. He could only hope that she would believe him. It was her intelligence that was making this pretense all the more difficult, and Benedict feared that sooner or later, he was going to slip up somewhere and blow the deceit wide open.

“The villager came tae the castle,” he said, as confidently as he could.

“Och, I see.”

He was listening to see if he could hear any suspicion in her voice, but there was no detectable inflection of disbelief. He had gotten away with it this time, but clearly, he would have to be more careful in the future.

As they arrived at the village, they were approached by the people who happened to see them. Benedict dismounted and carefully lifted Evelyn down from her horse.

“Me laird, ‘tis lovely tae see ye,” an older woman gushed.

“Me laird, me laird,” a young boy cried, jumping up and down on the spot.

More villagers gathered, and Benedict smiled and greeted them all. While he had expected it, it felt strange receiving such adoration. It was usually his brother getting such attention, the people only knowing the brothers apart by Audor’s clan ring, which Benedict now wore.

It was not difficult to act like Audor in this situation. Benedict was as fond of those that made up the clan as his brother. He greeted small children, and smiled warmly at the older women. Most of the men were absent, likely working on the land.

Evelyn found that she, too, received much attention, especially from the young children. They gawped up at her, clearly astounded by her beauty. Benedict could sympathize. She did have the ability to take one’s breath away.

The children followed them through the village for a little while, and then, soon enough, they were called away by their mothers. He watched Evelyn take in her surroundings, and upon passing a small stall selling jewelry, he noticed as she fingered a pendant with a deep green stone. She did not linger, however, and they continued on.

Leading the way, he headed to the blacksmith. After lying to everyone the night before, stating that he had some things to deal with in the village, he and Killian had been forced to come up with some ideas after Laird Sinclair’s suggestion that Evelyn accompany him. He could hardly visit the village just for the sake of it.

After dinner last night, they had spent a full hour trying to think of something. Being the very organized person Audor was, there were no real matters to attend to, pressing or otherwise, and for a while, both men were completely stumped. When they finally managed to come up with a scenario, albeit, far from perfect, Benedict had slumped back in his chair with a glass of amber liquid.

Looking over at Killian, he had shaken his head. “This lairdship malarkey is exhausting.”

Arriving at the blacksmith’s yard, he and Evelyn could see the burly man working from where they stood. Thomas, busy as always, wielded a huge hammer and was striking a piece of metal that glowed red from being in the fire.

“Good day tae ye, Thomas,” Benedict called out loudly, trying to make himself heard over the racket.

Upon hearing his name, Thomas halted in mid-swing, his hammer high in the air, and looked out into the courtyard. When he saw Benedict, he looked a little surprised, but smiled warmly all the same.

“Good day tae ye, me laird,” he said, dropping the hammer and stepping over several tools that lay round about him. Once out in the yard, he offered a burly, blackened hand. Benedict took it and shook it firmly.

“It is some time since I have seen ye in the village, me laird.”