Page 5 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

CHAPTER TWO

Three weeks later, Gunn castle…

Benedict Gunn sat in a high-backed chair next to the roaring fire in his brother’s study, swirling the amber liquid around in the glass he lightly held in his hand. Audor, his twin brother, and laird of Clan Gunn, remained at his desk, examining rent payments.

“I still dinnae ken how ye can dae it,” Benedict said. “Marrying fer an alliance is one thing. But marrying a woman ye’ve never even met is a different thing entirely.”

Audor lifted his head and cocked an eyebrow. “We cannae all have romantic liaisons in the library, braither.”

“Fer all that came o’ it,” Benedict huffed.

“Ye are pining fer her,” Audor chuckled. “In fact, I’d go as far as tae say ye’re obsessed. I still cannae believe ye didnae catch her name. I tell ye, Benedict, ye are losing yer touch.”

Absently, Benedict brought his fingers to his lips as he remembered that kiss. His mouth had been too busy doing other things. Asking her name had not been important at the time. He supposed there might have been a chance afterward to do so, but it had ended as quickly as it had started, and then, she was gone.

“Obsessed is a bit o’ a strong word,” Benedict countered.

“Aye, maybe ye’re right. I mean, it’s nae like ye’ve been talking about her non-stop since it happened, right?” Ardor said, giving him a smug look.

Benedict could hardly deny it. In fact, he had been on a mission ever since, trying to discover who the lass was. Anyone he had spoken to had no idea who he was talking about, and other than being able to describe how beautiful she was, he really had nothing else to go on. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

“I’m sure ye’ll meet up with her again,” Audor said. “She cannae be from such a distance if she was at Laird Mackay’s wedding.”

“Och, come on, Audor. Did ye see how many people were there? Did ye speak tae some o’ them? I spoke tae nae less than five people who had travelled from the far coast in the east.” Benedict shook his head. “It is hopeless. Nae one kens who she is, nor dae I have any clue where tae start looking.”

“Then I’ll just have tae find ye another pretty lass tae take yer mind off this one.” Audor grabbed the papers he had been examining and shuffling them together into a neat pile, he placed them on one side of his desk. Standing, he moved to the dresser and poured himself a drink, and then joined his brother at the fire.

“Besides,” he said, lowering himself down in a matching chair, “me wedding will occur shortly. I’m certain there will be plenty o’ lasses tae choose from there.”

“Aye, I’m sure that will make it all better,” Benedict replied sarcastically, giving his brother a knowing look.

Audor smirked at him, before taking a sip of his drink and turning his gaze to the flickering flames of the fire. “I may have tae be away again in a couple o’ days. If that is the case, I’ll need ye tae cover fer me once more.”

Benedict gazed at his brother. “Can ye nae tell me anything about what ye’re doing?”

“I’ve already told ye. It’s safer if ye dinnae ken. It’s safer if nay one kens right now. That’s why I’m nae telling the council. The only people that ken I’m away are ye and Killian.”

“Aye, only because he’s the only one who can tell us apart,” Benedict replied.

“Believe me, braither. It’s fer the best.”

By Audor’s tone, Benedict knew not to push the subject any further. He wished he could help him with whatever it was he was doing, but if Audor wouldn’t let him in on his plan, there was little he could do about it. If there was one thing Audor was good at, it was protecting his clan.

Loyal to a fault, he had always been an honest man, though he had been thrown into his lairdship far too young. Seven years had passed by so quickly, but not so quickly that either Benedict or Audor would ever forget the murder of their parents. They had only been three and twenty when it happened. Grown men they might have been, but neither of them was ready or had the experience to take control of the clan. And yet, they had been given little choice.

With their father gone, Audor had taken the lairdship and had been thrown into responsibilities he knew little about. The council had, of course, supported him completely, and now, seven years later, and at the age of thirty, his brother was a respected laird across the land.

“How long will ye be gone fer this time?”

Audor shrugged. “It’s hard tae tell, but⁠—”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and once Audor had bid the person to enter, they both turned to see Killian striding into the study. While he was the twins’ cousin, he looked nothing like either of them. His hair was short and black, his eyes were a deep blue, and the many battle scars across his body made him look more than intimidating.

When Killian’s parents were murdered, he had been just a boy six years old. Being his brother’s son, Laird Darragh Gunn, Benedict and Audor’s father, had taken him in and raised him as his own. Cousins they might be, but they were as close as brothers. Besides, it was not just family ties that bound them. They had all sustained the same wound. A wound that could not be seen with the naked eye. A wound that was deep and painful. Each of them had lost parents to murder, and while Benedict and Audor did, on occasion, speak about it, Killian remained closed down.

He was the best warrior in the clan. But Benedict knew that each battle took much more out of him than it might another man. After a drunken night where Killian, with loosened lips, had spoken of his pain, he had confessed to Benedict that he saw each and every enemy as though they were the one who had killed his parents.

His cousin hid his pain well, though. On the outside, he was easy-going and fun to be around. He liked the lasses and had bedded more than Benedict could number. He had always wondered, though, if that, too, had something to do with the burden he carried.