Page 21 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

Mr. Grim wasn’t the most eligible of bachelors, but he was a decent company. Unlike his name, he was pleasantly cheerful. They had just served him tea, and Lady Ashby had inquired about his grandmother who was ill, when Mr. Charity, and Mr. Graves were announced.

Within the hour, the parlor was stuffed full of suitors, all vying for the attentions of Clara and Evanna. Lady Ashby, though pleased, was a little alarmed by the noise and the lack of space.

“It is such a lovely day,” she noted. “I think all of you will benefit from a stroll in the gardens.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Lady Ashby,” Evanna agreed, throwing a glare at Aleck who had planted himself squarely by her side forcing Mr. Merton to lean forward precariously so he could speak to her.

The party entered the gardens, and though many of them wished to take the ladies upon their arms, Evanna and Clara thought it best to take each other’s arms so as not to offend any of the gentlemen. Evanna didn’t need to talk to Clara to know that none of the men paying them court were suitable. It would not do to encourage their advances or give one preference over the other.

“Almost makes me wish Ashton were here,” Evanna murmured.

“Are you sure Ashton is the Winchester you wish to come rescue us from this boring entourage?” Clara asked, looking at Evanna with a sly sideways glance.

“I dinnae ken what you mean.”

“Oh, come Evanna! There are no secrets among us.” Clara nodded her head towards Aleck who was a few feet behind them but out of earshot. “I even know of your feelings for the Ice-Man.”

“Hush!” Evanna was alarmed. “He might hear ye.”

“If there was ever a man deaf, dumb, and blind to love and all its sighs and glances, it is Aleck Bryce.” Clara squeezed Evanna’s arm. “He won’t hear us, and if he did, he would not be able to make any sense of it, I’m sure.”

Evanna wasn’t so sure. Aleck might not recognize Evanna’s hopeless affection for him, but he was good at not only recognizing other’s infatuation with her, but he tried his best to quash it.

“Miss MacLeod.” Mr. Charity requested her attention by the flowerbeds. “Do you not think this is a marvelous specimen of the genus Rosa?”

Evanna looked at the pink rose and frowned. It was a rose. Nothing special about a rose. It was uncommonly pretty but she couldn’t fathom what the fuss was about.

“It is quite lovely,” she conceded.

While Mr. Charity gave her a botanical lecture on the historical significance of roses, Clara had been apprehended by Mr. Graves and was busy trying to pay attention to a talk on the importance of the steam engine.

Aleck hovered by her elbow, as did many other men, interjecting with their own opinions to best capture Evanna’s imagination and thus attention. She was polite and attentive when all she wanted to do was pick up her skirts and run back inside as far away from these tiresome men as possible.

Something of her thoughts must have been apparent in her face because Aleck was giving her a knowing smile. Her blood raged against his delight. Was he enjoying her discomfort? Of course, he would. It would be poetic justice as far as Aleck was concerned that Evanna should get what she wanted and then not enjoy it in the least.

Oh, how he vexed her.

“What is all the hullabaloo about?”

Evanna wheeled around so quick her head was in danger of spinning. John and Ashton Winchester had joined them. John had been handsome the night before, but he was absolutely dashing under the morning sun. Ashton by comparison looked more like a drowned squirrel than he had before.

Evanna could see what Clara had meant by Ashton feeling under his brother’s shadow. When on his own, he had a certain air about him that distinguished him. He was snarky, and a little aloof, but he was noticeable. With John he became almost invisible— part of the scenery. Evanna felt sorry for him, and this was saying much because he usually got on her nerves so badly, she wanted to step on his toes.

“I was just informing Miss MacLeod on the history of the rose,” Mr. Charity said, his back stiffening slightly.

“A rose is a rose, Philip,” John laughed. “Compare it to the lady’s complexion, and her sweet lips, and be done with it. Must you bore her with its genus, and its varying species?”

Evanna covered her laugh with a genteel cough. “I was very impressed by yer knowledge on the subject, Mr. Charity,” she said. “However, I suppose we could entertain ourselves with something else, perhaps? What would you suggest, Mr. Winchester?”

“A treasure hunt, perhaps?” he suggested, flashing his charming smile.

“Is there hidden treasure on your grounds?” Mr. Merton asked Clara.

“I was not aware. Is there something you know to which I am not privy, Mr. Winchester?” Clara asked.

“You’ve known me long enough to call me John. And it isn’t real treasure. We select a few items and then we scour the gardens and the woods for them. The team with the most treasures, wins.” He bestowed one of his warm smiles on Clara, and Evanna felt a sharp pain in the middle of her breastbone as if a bee had stung her.

Was she jealous of Clara? That wasn’t possible. She didn’t have any feelings for John Winchester. Did she? Yes, he was handsome, and, compared to the rest of the suitors she’d received, he was charming and exciting. But she did not admire him like she did Aleck.