Page 53 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Never in his life had he wanted someone so badly, and in that moment, as Benedict lay beside Evelyn on the grass, holding her in his arms after their lovemaking, and never wanting to let her go, all the fear he had felt about telling Audor his feelings for her seemed to dissipate. He loved her, he knew that. And after her tearful confession, he now knew that Evelyn loved him just as deeply.

He was certain of it before her words earlier, but her expression only solidified it in his heart and mind.

They lay there for some time, neither of them speaking, both gazing up at the swaying branches of leaves that danced on the soft breeze above their heads. It was a moment of bliss, but more than that, it was a time of connection. He was certain Evelyn felt it too, for she seemed as lost in the moment as he was.

Words were unnecessary. Their love for each other shone out of them like beacons. He felt it soaking into him, as though it leeched from her body and into him. Right now, they were the only two people in the entire world, and feeling a sense of completeness, Benedict did not want to move from the contented blissfulness that enveloped them.

After some time they brushed themselves off, and straightening their clothes, he looked down into her eyes, and smiled. “I love ye, Evelyn.”

“And I love ye,” she replied softly.

He bent and gave her the lightest of kisses, before taking hold of her hand.

“Come on. Let’s go back.”

They left the gardens, but Benedict did not let go of her hand. He now did not care who saw them. He knew what he wanted, and he was determined to get it.

“I am going tae tell me braither that he cannae marry ye,” Benedict said, as they walked back to the castle. “I cannae bear the thought o’ losing ye, Evelyn, and I will fight fer ye, if that is what it takes.”

“Dae ye want me tae come with ye? Perhaps if he sees us together, he will understand.”

Benedict shook his head. “Nay. This is something I must dae alone. When I have told Audor me wishes, we will go and speak tae yer faither together.”

Benedict bent and stole another kiss before they entered the castle. Once inside, he turned and gazed down at her with a tender expression. “I will see ye soon.”

And then he turned and headed towards Audor’s study.

Evelyn had terrified him earlier, and as he walked through the corridors, he recognized how that fear had solidified how deeply he wanted her for his wife. Audor would surely understand that, wouldn’t he?

The sweet scent of her clung to him as he strode through the corridors, and his stomach clenched as the pleasure of making love to her lingered. This time had felt different. He didn’t know how to explain it, but it had felt deeper, more intense, as though they had made a pact with each other never to let go.

He had seen it in her eyes. The desperation to be with him, the desire, the love. Something had happened between them in the garden, and while he felt it in his very being, he could not put the feeling, or meaning into words. Somehow, he just knew they were now inseparable. No matter what happened, nothing could part them. Nothing and no one.

Upon reaching Audor’s study, Benedict paused. Gazing at the door for a long moment, he took a deep breath. Whatever happened next, he would not leave this room without his brother’s agreement to him marrying Evelyn. But even in his determination, the nerves bubbled in his stomach.

Opening the door, he stepped into the room, and found Audor where he imagined he would be. Sat at his desk, buried in papers.

“Ah, braither,” Audor said amicably when he looked up to see who had entered. Waving a welcoming gesture, he continued. “Come in.”

Benedict ventured forth, the twisting sensation in his gut growing even more intense. While he wanted to be with Evelyn more than anything in this world, he now had to confess the treachery he had committed behind his brother’s back. There was no way out of it if he wanted Audor to understand his feelings.

“More o’ Laird Keith’s men have been spotted, and thus, I have assigned even more guards to the walls and outer perimeter o’ the castle,” Audor said, standing and moving toward the dresser.

“Good,” Benedict replied, settling himself into a chair beside the huge fireplace.

Grabbing two glasses, Audor poured out smooth amber liquid from a large flask. “I must commend ye, braither, on the fine job ye have done with the village, and those in the clan in me absence. Ye would have made a fine laird.”

Benedict took the offered glass, and while his brother sat opposite him at the fire, he said, “That was always yer place, nae mine.”

“Ye ken that isnae the case, Benedict. When father passed away, either one o’ us could have become the laird.”

“But ye wanted it far more than I, braither,” Benedict countered.

“Aye. And ye gave it tae me just like that,” he said, clicking his fingers. “Nay argument or dispute. I will always be grateful fer yer graciousness.”

Benedict nodded and took a sip of his drink. His mind was a rush of thoughts and, though he wanted to tell Audor his reason for being there, he suddenly felt at a loss as to where to begin. Did he start with his feelings, or the fact that he wanted to marry Evelyn? Should he begin from the very start, explaining his betrayal, or ought he just get to the point more quickly?