Page 28 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

Benedict returned his gaze and deduced that James certainly had his suspicions. “I’m sure he will be back by then, James. He is me braither. The wedding cannae occur without him. If necessary, we shall wait a few days.”

James smiled widely. “Indeed,” he replied. And with a knowing nod, he turned and left the room.

For the next three days, and, after further discussion with Killian, Benedict avoided Evelyn wherever possible. Of course, he still remained present for the meals of the day, but other than that, Killian had come up with a list of things that Benedict had been able to use to excuse his absence.

Being away from her, however, did not stop him thinking about her. In fact, his obsession became, for the most part, worse. She was like an elixir, something he needed to feed the craving that was driving him slowly mad.

Even his sleep was being affected, and waking up wearily that morning, he had arrived for breakfast, stayed for an acceptable amount of time, and then hurried off to Audor’s study, where he spent the rest of the morning hiding.

For fear he might go entirely mad, Killian had arrived with a plan for them both to do some training that afternoon, and thus, he and Benedict were now in the castle gardens wielding shields and swords. Benedict was grateful for the distraction. He needed some kind of release to rid himself of the pent-up energy that swirled within him.

“I wonder what Audor is doing,” Killian said, as he unsheathed his sword and readied himself.

“If I kent, I’d tell ye,” Benedict replied, doing the same. “I could hardly believe it when that missive arrived from him yesterday. He told me he was only going tae be a week. Now, God only kens when he’ll return.”

“It’s just a few more days,” Killian said.

“Aye, a few more days where I have to hide out in my own home so as tae avoid making this mess even worse,” Benedict growled. “I dinnae ken how much longer I can keep this façade going.”

As though thinking about Evelyn had conjured her up, she and Yvaine came into view some distance across the garden. They settled themselves beneath a tree, both clearly wanting to watch the men spar.

“Och, that’s just great,” Benedict huffed.

“What?”

Benedict jerked his head in their direction. “It appears we have an audience.”

Killian clearly found it funny, and with a smirk, he said, “Try nae tae think about it.”

“Aye,” Benedict drawled back. “Easy fer ye tae say.”

“Ye’re doin’ everything ye can, Benedict.”

“I ken. But how am I supposed tae keep this up? Audor is going tae be away for even longer now, and my lack o’ attention towards his daughter is making Laird Sinclair suspicious.”

Killian raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Clearly, he had no answer, and with no solutions, the two abandoned thinking about it and began to train.

Lunge after lunge, their swords clashed together, the sound of metal ringing across the air. When Killian attacked, Benedict defended, stepping back to avoid each swipe. But when the opportunity arose, he switched and instead, attacked Killian, forcing his cousin back with a heavy assault.

A soft wind blew across the gardens, and while Benedict was doing his best to ignore Evelyn’s presence, he did put on a good show. Every woman liked the sight of a strong man. But as Killian advanced again, the wind blew stronger, lifting Evelyn’s dress and revealing her legs. He couldn’t help himself. His eyes veered from the battle and he found himself transfixed, even as she hurriedly pulled the material down again.

A second later, Killian’s sword caught him on his upper arm.

“Argh!” he yelled, dropping his sword and grabbing the wounded area.

“Bene—”

Benedict glared at Killian, who quickly recovered. “Audor. I’m so sorry. I expected ye tae block the blow.”

And Benedict should have done, but his attention had been focused elsewhere.

Killian had since dropped his sword and was by Benedict’s side. “We should get ye tae the healer.”

“I’m fine,” he growled. “I dinnae need the healer.” But even as he said that, he watched blood trickling through his fingers and soaking into the sleeve of his tunic.

“Dinnae be a fool, cousin,” Killian said, taking him by the arm and leading him across the garden. “Come on. Let’s get that wound looked at.”