Chapter One

Mackay Castle, the wedding of Laird Cathal Mackay

“We are surely going tae be hanged for ruining this wedding, Yvaine,” Evelyn Sinclair hissed at her younger sister. “We shouldnae be here.”

“Och, will ye stop fretting,” Yvaine replied evenly. “Dae ye nae remember why we came? We’re supposed tae be having some fun. Besides, our clan was invited. Ye ken that. If Faither had accepted, we’d have come here with him.”

They were slowly moving through the many people who already filled the corridor. Laughter and boisterous conversations met their ears, the women giggling, and the men guffawing. Tankards spilled their contents as the merrier guests hardly seemed to care where their drink ended up, and a faint trickle of music danced on the air as the sisters made their way to the great hall of Mackay Castle.

Evelyn brushed her long, dark blonde hair behind her ear and moved closer to her sister as they continued to maneuver through the crowd. “Aye, well,” she whispered. “There was never a chance o’ that happening. He’s nae the same anymore, so distant and secluded. He can barely look us in the eye, never mind anybody else.”

Yvaine looked at Evelyn sadly. “He did lose his wife, Evelyn.”

“And we lost our maither,” Evelyn countered. “But it has been a year already. He cannae mourn forever.”

“It isnae the same fer him. Ye ken that he blames himself. She was murdered tae punish him, and he cannae get past that.”

Evelyn could hardly argue, and perhaps her anger for her father’s lack of affection masked the sadness she felt for him and for herself. Their mother and father had adored each other, anyone with eyes had seen it. After her mother’s murder, her father, Laird Donald Sinclair, had not been the same.

She did try to understand how hard it was for him, but she and Yvaine had lost someone precious too. They had needed him over the last year. They had needed his love and support as they dealt with their own feelings of grief. But he had not been there for them. A part of him had died with his wife, and Evelyn had wondered, over the last months, if he would ever return from the darkness that still surrounded his being.

The further into the castle they ventured, the more her nerves grew. This was not something she or Yvaine would normally do. Holding integrity in high esteem, they didn’t break the rules. Evelyn fingered the necklace at her throat. It was a gift from her mother, and thus, more precious to her than anything else she owned. Yvaine was right. Their clan had been invited, but her father had declined, and thus, none of the Sinclair clan were expected to be there. More than that, though, Donald Sinclair did not know his daughters had sneakily left the castle that evening and travelled the couple of hours to attend the wedding feast of Laird Mackay.

It had been Yvaine’s idea.

“Life isnae fair,” Yvaine had said. “What Faither is making ye dae isnae fair either.”

Evelyn had shrugged. “We need the alliance. What am I supposed tae dae? Run away? I have nay choice, Yvaine. I have tae marry him.”

“But ye havenae even met him. Faither is being cruel.”

Evelyn heaved a huge sigh. “I will meet him in a few weeks when we travel to Laird Audor Gunn’s castle,” she had murmured, a little frustration creeping into her tone.

The sisters had walked for a little while longer, when Yvaine had suddenly gasped, spun to look at Evelyn, and blurted, “I have an idea.”

Evelyn had tilted her head, raised her eyebrows, and looked at Yvaine knowingly. “Ye cannae convince him. I’ve tried. He willnae listen.”

Yvaine shook her head. “It’s nae about Faither. It’s about Laird Mackay’s wedding.”

Evelyn frowned then. “What about it?”

“We should go,” Yvaine had blurted excitedly. “As a rebellion against yer destiny, we can sneak out and go tae Mackay Castle. I’ve heard it’s going tae be a huge affair. Laird Cathal Mackay is our ally, and besides, it will only take an hour or so tae reach them across the border o’ the clan lands.”

At first, Evelyn had been appalled. “That is a crazy idea. What if we get caught? What if Faither finds out? What if someone sees us?”

While Yvaine was someone who ordinarily would never go against her father, or anyone else for that matter, she surprised Evelyn with her answer. “Who cares? What possible punishment could be worse than forcing ye tae marry a man ye dinnae even ken? Ye deserve tae have a little fun and forget about everything. A final revolt before yer life is nae longer yer own.”

Evelyn had still been unsure. They would be taking a huge risk. But upon seeing Yvaine’s eagerness and knowing that even suggesting such a thing went against her character in every way, Evelyn had realized her sister was doing this for her. She was willing to risk getting into trouble just so Evelyn could have one night of freedom.

“All right,” Evelyn had finally agreed.

“Ye see,” Yvaine smiled, handing Evelyn a drink, “are ye nae glad we came now?”

“I am,” Evelyn replied. “But if Faither discovers it, I’m going tae tell him it was all yer idea.”

Yvaine burst into laughter. “And I will tell him it was yers.”

The two sisters giggled at each other, and feeling a little more relaxed, they began to mingle with the other guests. Evelyn discovered that people had travelled from across the country to attend the wedding. Laird Mackay was a good man with a fine reputation. Unlike many other lairds, he was neither bloodthirsty nor power mad, which, she supposed, was one of the reasons her father had allied with him many years before.

Evelyn and Yvaine had just left from conversing with a young lass, when Yvaine found herself grabbed by a hand. Evelyn watched as a tall and handsome man jerked his head toward the middle of the room.

“Come and dance with me?” he yelled over the music and boisterous noise of the gathering.

The question was asked while he pulled Yvaine along with him, and thus, she hardly had a chance to refuse. But she was laughing as she went, and watching her go, Evelyn smiled widely at her sister having such fun.

Feeling a little out of place, given she was now left to stand by herself, Evelyn carefully threaded through the crowd and made her way to the back corner of the room. Picking her spot, she stood and watched the guests having fun with laughter and rowdy conversation. But even as she was surrounded by such gaiety, a sadness slowly washed over her as thoughts of her future arose in her mind. Her father had arranged her marriage for the betterment of the clan. They needed this alliance, she knew that, and that had been the reason that she had not argued or fought his decision.

Self-sacrificing as always, Evelyn knew she had to put the clan before her needs and desires. Her mother’s murder had been a punishment. A dreadful circumstance that Evelyn did not want repeated. Marrying Laird Ardor Gunn would ensure that, and thus, what choice did she really have?

“What’s a pretty young lass like yersel’ doing standing alone in the corner?”

Evelyn had been too lost in her thoughts to see anyone approach, but at the sound of that question, she turned her head and lifted her eyes. A handsome man stood there smiling down at her. A little taken aback at his forwardness, Evelyn did not know what to say in reply, and thus, stood there gawping at him.

“Cat got yer tongue?” he drawled, his mouth forming a lob-sided grin.

“I, er, nay. It’s just…” Evelyn floundered.

“Ye’ve never spoken tae a man ‘afore?” he joked, taking a step toward her.

Still not certain of her words, and feeling caught off guard, she nodded and shook her head at the same time.

This elicited a deep chuckle from the man’s throat. “Is that an aye or a nae? I cannae tell with yer head bobbling about like it’s nae attached tae yer neck.”

“O’ course, I’ve spoken tae a man ‘afore,” she said when she finally found her voice.

“Just nae such a handsome one.” He grinned widely.

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or just arrogant, but this interaction did not feel particularly pleasant, so she deduced the latter. Not wanting to be rude, her mind scrambled to find a way out of her circumstances.

“So here ye are, a beautiful lass, and here I am, a handsome man, both alone at the ball. I declare that such a circumstance is a tragedy.”

“I’m sure there are plenty o’ lasses here who would be delighted tae have the pleasure o’ yer company,” Evelyn replied carefully, hoping the man would take the hint to find another lass to pursue.

The man took another step closer, his arm leaning on the wall beside her as he towered above her. “And what about ye?” he growled huskily. “Would ye nae like the pleasure o’ me company?”

“That’s nae what I meant,” she said quickly. “It’s just, ye ken, there are many lasses here.”

“Indeed, there are,” he growled again. “But I’m nae talking tae any o’ them. I’m talking tae ye. Dae ye nae find me handsome?”

Evelyn nodded just to placate the man, but her heart was thumping with fear and anger at the same time. “Ye are, indeed, a very handsome man.” Her words sounded shaky, and she felt her hands tremble with ire. Who daes he think he is tae speak tae a woman like this?

He chuckled again. “Ye’re a nervous wee thing. But very beautiful. I’ll bet those lips are as soft as heather.”

Unconsciously, Evelyn gasped. Could this man be any more rude?

By his raised eyebrows as he waited for her answer, he clearly did not think his behavior rude at all, which was concerning. Perhaps if she just answered him, he would be on his way. If he thought she lacked experience and was not as flirtatious as other lasses he had, no doubt, harassed, he might just leave her alone.

She huffed. “I’ve never been tempted tae kiss a man who isnae me husband.”

His eyes widened at that remark, and clearly surprised, he seemed lost for words. And yet, he still did not leave. Her plan had not worked as she hoped it might, and now stumped, Evelyn could not think of another way to be rid of him. Maybe she was going to have to be as rude as he, and simply walk away.

The man grinned mischievously down at her. “Maybe I could—”

“I dinnae think the lass is interested,” a deep voice came from somewhere behind the leering man’s shoulders.

Pushing himself from the wall, the persistent pest turned to look behind him. Evelyn struggled not to gasp again, for the man stood there was not only the most handsome man she had ever seen, he was also huge. He was a great wall of a man, nearly as tall as he was broad, with blonde hair. He had the look of a Viking and his piercing green eyes were currently locked in some kind of battle with the man now standing facing him.

“I dinnae think it’s any o’ yer damned business,” the man growled.

“It is when ye’re making the lass feel uncomfortable,” her savior, may the Gods bless him, growled back. “And, clearly,” he nodded toward Evelyn, “ye are.”

“We were just talking.”

“Nay,” the huge man replied. “Ye were talking. She was terrified. Now, move on, before I move ye on.”

For a second, the arrogant pursuer stood his ground, clearly too proud to do as he was told. The huge man then straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest. The action made him look three inches taller.

“Fine,” the other man submitted. Trying to maintain his dignity as he shifted, he said, “She’s a prude anyway.”

Evelyn looked mortified, but relief flooded through her as he turned on his heels and stormed away.

Her savior watched the man go, before turning back to her. Taking a step forward, he gazed down at her with concern. “Are ye all right?” His tone was now far gentler than only seconds before.

For a moment, Evelyn was too lost in his swirling green eyes to answer. He was striking, as though the gods had carved his face by their own hand. Her own face flooded with heat again at what had transpired, and suddenly, she felt the need to escape. She wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Ye must excuse me,” she said hurriedly. “I need a breath o’ air.”

Before he had chance to reply, she darted around him and moved quickly out of the great hall.

Hurrying down the corridor, avoiding the eyes of those merrily celebrating around her, she rushed around a corner. That corridor was far quieter, and with no other people around, she tried the handle of the first door she came to. Evelyn, looking about her and realizing it was a library, stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her. Leaning her body against it, she took in a deep breath.

Pushing herself off the door, she paced back and forth in the room. The experience had unnerved her, and try as she might, she could not rid her mind of what might have happened had she not have been saved. Either she’d have been forced against her will, or she’d have ended up scratching the oaf’s eyes out.

But all is good now, Evelyn. Ye are safe. Ye need tae calm yersel’.

Yes, she did. She also needed to go and find Yvaine. It was getting late. They still had an hour or so to travel, and as fun as sneaking away to the Mackay’s wedding had been, she did not want her father to discover they had left.

Straightening her dress, she turned to walk towards the library door, when it opened, and the huge, handsome stranger stepped inside. Upon discovering her, he frowned with concern. “There ye are. Are ye all right, Miss?”

Evelyn automatically stepped back. “I am fine. Thank ye.”

He shook his head. “Ye didnae look too fine when I found ye. MacKinley is a rake at best, but he has the awareness o’ a snail.”

A trickle of laughter fell from Evelyn’s lips, and, at the same time, the tension that had wound in her body seemed to ease.

“I apologize. I didnae even thank ye fer yer intervention. So, thank ye. He certainly is a persistent man.” And a halfwit.

“Aye,” the huge man rolled his eyes. “That’s putting it mildly.” He paused for a second, before looking at her carefully. “But I can understand his interest.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows went up.

“Nay, please.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m naething like him. I’m merely observing the fact that ye are a very beautiful lass. That’s all.”

She felt her face flush and dropped her gaze at his words. In stark contrast, she did not fear this man like she had the other. His words were kind, and even the way he looked at her was different. His gaze was gentle, whereas MacKinley had leered at her like she was something to eat.

“Thank ye,” she breathed, feeling as though it was good manners to acknowledge the compliment.

He took another step toward her. It was slow and measured. He still watched her carefully, as though he was gauging how his approach might affect her. “I couldnae help overhearing some o’ yer conversation,” he said in a tender tone.

“Really?” Evelyn replied, now feeling a little breathless. Perhaps it was the way he was gazing at her. Perhaps it was the fact that he was indeed, a striking specimen of a man.

“Aye,” he said, taking another step. He was now only a few feet away. “I heard ye tell MacKinley that ye’ve never been kissed ‘afore.”

Another wave of heat washed over Evelyn, and again, she dropped her gaze. “I only said that tae be rid o’ him,” she breathed.

“Is that right?” the man said softly.

Evelyn felt his finger under her chin as he lifted her head. She looked up at him, her heart thumping like a drum in her breast.

“So, ye have been kissed ‘afore?” he continued, his eyes gazing into hers as though he were searching her soul for the truth. Could he see? Could he tell that she was lying?

“I, er. Well.” Evelyn flustered. She then shook her head. “The truth is, I have never been kissed.”

He took on more step forward and closed the gap between them. “That is a tragedy,” he whispered. “Wouldnae ye like tae ken what it feels like?”

Evelyn gazed up at him, her nerves mixing with fear and desire.

“Ye can say nae,” he said. “The door is right there. I willnae stop ye from leaving.”

But Evelyn did not want to leave. Sparks were flying between them, her heart thumped, her stomach squirmed, and the desire for the man before her was growing by the second.

“I dinnae want tae leave,” she breathed.

The man nodded, and then she felt his huge hand resting gently on her slender neck. A second later, his lips were upon hers. As his tongue slipped inside her mouth, exploring, tasting, entwining with hers, she opened her mouth wider and grabbed his tunic to pull him in closer.

Her heart thumped, and breathlessly, she gave herself to him. Their lips clashed together, their tongues roving hungrily as though neither had eaten for days.

His other hand, which had sat upon her waist, now climbed higher and higher, and Evelyn suddenly gasped when his fingers cupped her firm breast. Her nipple hardened, and upon finding it, the man growled as Evelyn moaned.

“Are ye sure ye’ve never been kissed ‘afore?” he whispered, his hot breath dancing upon her lips.

Evelyn could hardly speak, and while a small whimper left her lips, she shook her head. Threading her fingers through his hair, she caressed his neck, and felt a scar just below his left ear. I wonder where he got that?

It was the strangest thought under the circumstances, but the thought left as quickly as it had arrived as the man continued to speak.

“Then ye must never have been touched ‘afore either,” he said huskily, caressing her nipple and making it peak even harder.

“Oh, God,” she gasped.

Evelyn was feeling a lot of sensations she had never experienced before. Apart from her heart thumping so hard she thought it might burst from her rib cage, her stomach clenched and twisted, and she felt a moistness at the apex of her thighs.

“I wonder what ye taste like?” he growled again. “I would love tae be the first tae taste ye.”

At first, his words did not make any sense. He had tasted her… But the more she thought about them, however, the more she realized what he meant. The man was indeed handsome and huge, and under any other circumstances, she would have been delighted.

Life isnae fair. Imagine if I were nae betrothed tae be married. Imagine if I had the chance tae be with a man who excited me as much as I am excited in this very moment. But ye are betrothed, Evelyn. What the devil are ye doing?

As that thought flew through her mind, Evelyn quickly stepped back. She watched the surprise on the man’s face, and then she blurted, “I’m sorry.”

Seconds later, she spun on her heels, grabbed the door handle, and ran from the room.

And as he had promised, he didn’t follow her.

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.

“A rider has informed me that Laird Sinclair and his entourage have been spotted on the hill,” Killian said, getting straight to the point. “Yer bride will likely be at the castle in the next half hour. We will meet them at the gates.”

“And good day tae ye, too, Killian,” Benedict teased.

Killian gave Benedict a playful scowl.

“Thank ye, Killian. Get a drink. Come, join us.” Audor gestured to a chair.

After filling a glass, Killian dropped himself down beside the brothers. “Are ye nervous?” he said, looking directly at Audor.

Audor shook his head and frowned. “What is there tae be nervous about? I’m getting married, nae going intae battle.”

“I dinnae ken,” Killian shrugged with a smirk, “some men might tell ye it’s the same thing.”

The men laughed at that comment.

“I’d be more worried about what yer future bride looks like,” Benedict added. “Ye’ve never met her. She might resemble a moose.”

Audor snorted at that comment, but Killian shook his head. “I think ye may be wrong there, Benedict. From what I’ve heard, both the Sinclair sisters are bonnie wee lasses.”

“Och, well. That’s all right then. She might nae have a brain in her skull, but at least she’ll be a pretty charm on yer arm,” Benedict sniggered.

“Aye, well. At least I ken where me sweetheart is, which is more than ye can say fer yers.”

Killian chuckled at that comment, and threw a knowing look at Benedict. “As usual, yer braither is right.”

“Aye. And doesnae he ken it?” Benedict growled playfully.

The men finished the last dregs of their drinks, and then Audor stood. “We should make a move here. I dinnae want our guests arriving without a proper welcome.”

When the three were out in the corridor, Killian continued the conversation. “Ye’re getting a rare privilege, Audor. Nay one has seen Laird Sinclair since his wife’s murder. In fact, I hear he hasnae left his castle since it happened.”

“Aye, it’s a sad affair. But it’s the reason this marriage is going ahead. Laird Alisdair Keith wanted an alliance with Clan Sinclair, even though he’d been a rival for years.”

“Aye, I ken,” Killian said. “When Sinclair refused, Keith had Mary, his wife, brutally murdered. He is not a man.”

Killian sounded angrier than he ought, under the circumstances, but Benedict could only imagine it was the fact that yet another parent had been murdered that angered him.

“Well, Laird Keith hasnae stopped there. He’s been relentless in his attacks ever since, which is why Laird Sinclair and I agreed tae this alliance. Our clan will get lands and coin, and he will get the support o’ our larger army.”

“I just hope ye ken what ye’re doing, braither,” Benedict said with a sigh.

“Why are ye so against this alliance?” Audor asked firmly.

They were now making their way down the wide stone staircase, and at the bottom, Benedict came to a stop and looked his brother in the eye. “Fer a start, ye’ve never met this lass. God only kens if yer even going tae like her, never mind, having tae spend the rest o’ yer life with her. Second, ye’re only thirty. There’s still time fer ye tae actually find someone ye might fall in love with. And third, once ye’re married, I’m nae going tae have ye at me side when we’re at the taverns and looking fer lasses.” Benedict grinned.

Audor smiled, shook his head, and then continued walking. “I understand yer concerns, Benedict. And I appreciate ye looking out fer me. But this is a good deal fer our clan. Besides, Laird Sinclair is a fine laird. He needs our help, and I intend tae give it.”

“Ye can always get a mistress if things dinnae work out,” Killian offered.

“Nay!” Audor and Benedict barked at the same time. They both glared at Killian, who seemed to shrink under the visual attack.

“All right,” he said weakly, raising his hands in surrender. “It was only an idea.”

“Ye should ken me braither better than that, Killian,” Benedict growled.

“I dae,” Killian countered. “I just thought it was something tae consider.”

“Ye’re a fool tae think he would even consider it.”

“Clearly,” Killian said a little sarcastically.

They were now out in the courtyard and making their way to the gates. The huge wooden barriers stood open, guards standing alert as they watched the approaching horses and carriages. There were a great deal of them, but Laird Sinclair led the convoy on his horse

“He looks old,” Audor said quietly.

Benedict caught sight of Laird Sinclair. He had only met the man once, and it had been some years ago, but Audor was right. The man looked like he had aged twenty years. He supposed the death of a beloved wife would do that to a man.

“I’m sorry,” Killian murmured. He was stood at Benedicts left, while Audor remained at his right. By the low tone, Killian clearly did not want Audor to hear him.

Benedict turned and spoke to Killian in equally low tones. “Ye should ken better, cousin. Audor is a loyal man. He values integrity nearly more than any other quality.”

Killian looked subdued. “I ken. I just wasnae thinking.”

Benedict placed an arm on his shoulder. “Listen. Dinnae worry yersel’ about it. Audor willnae hold it against ye.”

“Well,” Audor said. “It looks like I made a good deal after all.”

Benedict and Killian both looked up, for following on behind Laird Sinclair, was a horse and trap with two lasses sitting upon it.

Benedict’s jaw fell open at the sight of them. In fact, he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Could this be? There before his very eyes, was the lass he had kissed in the library. The lass he had been searching for ever since. The lass he had not been able to get out of his mind. She sat next to an equally pretty lass. The only trouble was, he didn’t know which sister was which.

Had he kissed the sister of his brother’s betrothed, or had he actually kissed Lady Evelyn Sinclair, the lass his brother was about to marry?

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