Page 31 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

Benedict did so, and to keep her eyes busy, she took a long look at the injury on his upper arm. It wasn’t a huge gash, but it was certainly deep enough. After dabbing the alcohol on the rag, she gently wiped the cut, and heard Benedict hissing through his teeth.

Her eyes flew wide as she looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”

Though the pain was evident on his face, he shook his head. “It’s fine.”

His eyes softened as he gazed at her with the same desire she had seen several times already. Standing so close to his nakedness, Evelyn felt a little breathless herself, and slowly, she gazed back at him, feeling the same fire in her belly that Benedict always seemed to ignite when he was anywhere near her.

Getting back to her job, she lightly dabbed the wound again. “I can see yer nae stranger tae a wound,” she said, clearly seeing the white lines of scarring dashed at different places across his body.

“Aye. And they’ve all been a lot worse than this,” he said, nodding down at the gash. “Killian has worse scars than I. He’s the best warrior we have.”

“Aye, I can see that,” Evelyn said, smirking and nodding towards the window where he and Yvaine were still apparently arguing. As she cleaned the wound, she continued. “The two o’ ye are very close. I ken ye are cousins, but he’s very protective of ye.”

“Aye. He’s a good man considering all he’s suffered.”

Her hands kept working, but Evelyn cast him a glance. “What dae ye mean, suffered?”

“Killian’s parents were killed when he was only a boy of six.”

“Oh, God,” Evelyn gasped.

Benedict nodded. “Me parents took him in, of course. He grew up with me and… me braither.” Evelyn tried not to react at his hesitation, for she was certain he had been about to say Audor before he managed to stop himself. “And he’s been here ever since. By relation, he’s me cousin. In reality, he’s far more than that.”

“He’s lucky tae have ye and yer braither,” Evelyn said, pressing a clean piece of cloth against the wound.

“Aye, well. We’ve been there fer each other. When our parents were killed, Killian was there for us too.”

His words felt heavy on her heart, and resting a hand gently on his shoulder, she gazed at him with the sadness she felt. “I’m so sorry that happened tae ye.”

Benedict gazed back at her sadly and nodded. “It is what it is.”

It was evident, due to his somber tone, that Benedict did not want to talk anymore about it. Having bandaged the wound, Evelyn wondered how she could change the subject, while at the same time, not sound too insensitive.

Her eye caught a potion sitting on the shelf to her right, and lifting it down to show him, she said, “Dae ye ken, this potion is the closest I’ve ever been to actually being drunk.”

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the bottle in her hand. “That bottle?”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously nae this bottle. We have a healer at our castle too, ye ken,” she said mockingly. “But I’ve never been drunk ‘afore. I’ve always wanted tae see what it was like, but I’m too scared o’ what might happen. I’ve seen so many people make utter fools o’ themselves, and I dinnae want tae dae that.”

He seemed surprised at her confession, and then a mischievous smirk danced at the corner of his mouth. “Every person should get drunk at least once in their lifetime, it’s like a right ‘o passage. In fact,” he continued, growing a little more excited, “we will go tae the village tonight and dae that very thing.”

“I couldnae,” Evelyn cried, now feeling terrified.

“Och, come on, Evelyn. I’ll be right there beside ye. I promise. I’ll nae let ye make a fool o’ yersel.”

As tempting as it was, she still eyed him suspiciously.

“Hand on heart,” he said, placing his hand against his naked chest.

The sensible part of her was swiftly overtaken with an excitement that rushed through her body, and Yvaine’s words returned to her.

“In a few weeks, ye will be married. Ye are still yer own person until then.”

While it ought to feel wrong, Evelyn ignored her usual disciplined conscience, and throwing caution to the wind, nodded her head eagerly. “All right. I will. But only if we keep it a secret. I cannae have me faither discovering what we’re doing.”

He rewarded her impulsive decision with a wide grin and a nod. “Ye’re on.”

After dinner that evening, during which her father had been dismissive at best, Evelyn and Yvaine waited eagerly in their bedchamber for Benedict’s arrival.

Yvaine appeared even more excited than Evelyn felt, and nearly skipping around the room, she could not contain her delight. “This is just perfect,” she cried, her eyes dancing with the thrill of it all. “Ye cannae ken how proud I am of ye doing this, Evelyn.”

“Aye, well. Let’s just hope Faither doesnae hear of it,” Evelyn replied. She was nervous and excited, and yet, now, as she waited to leave, her nerves seemed to be getting the better of her.

“And what if he daes?” Yvaine replied. “He can hardly say anything if yer betrothed takes ye out tae the village. He hasnae stopped complaining about the laird,” she emphasized those words with a smirk, “nae spending any time with ye. He would be a hypocrite if he did so now.”

“But he’s nae the laird though, is he?”

“Faither doesnae ken that,” Yvaine countered.

Evelyn took a deep breath in. “Let us pray tae the gods that he never discovers it.”

A light knock on the door made both sisters jump, and then Yvaine beamed another delighted smile. “He’s here.” Turning to look at Evelyn, she lowered her voice and said, “Are ye ever going tae tell Benedict that ye ken it is him?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I cannae. If I tell him, then he’ll ken that all those moments between us, that kiss in the village, those soft gazes we’ve shared, all of it will have all been for him, and nae Audor. I will be admitting tae betraying his braither. Then what will he think o’ me?”