Page 11 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

CHAPTER FOUR

After the Sinclair’s had been led from the drawing room to be shown to their bedchambers, Benedict had found himself in somewhat of a quandary. He had watched Lady Sinclair with a careful eye, and like any other who knew the brothers, it was evident she had not been able to tell them apart. In fact, by her wide-eyed terror, he had imagined she was suffering with some panic at her discovery that the man she had kissed was a twin. The fact that it was the twin of the man she was to marry, she did not know. Yet.

At their introduction, he had purposefully given nothing away. Apart from the fact that he had been in as much shock as Lady Sinclair himself, it had neither been the time, nor the place. However, it would come out sooner or later, and there was not a chance Benedict would allow his brother to hear it from anyone other than himself. They did not keep secrets. Unfortunately, Audor was occupied, so he had asked Benedict to wait until after dinner when his brother had asked to talk to him in private.

Supper had been entertaining so far. He had enjoyed watching Lady Sinclair squirm when he had mentioned the Mackay wedding, but asking her about the library had obviously tipped her over the edge, and flustered and flushed, she had excused herself.

“Is she all right?” Audor asked, when he noticed Lady Sinclair leaving the great hall.

“I’ll go and check on her,” Benedict replied, pushing himself from the table and hurrying after her.

He followed from a distance at first, wondering where she might go. If she ended up in the library, he would not be able to hold back his amusement. Instead, she made her way outside. He continued his stealthy pursuit, until Lady Sinclair found the ornate gardens at the side of the castle. It was only then, that he showed himself.

“What a beautiful evening,” he declared, making her jump with fright. But instead of the ordinary reply to such a statement, the beautiful lass scowled at him.

“Why are ye torturing me for a mistake I didnae even ken I was making?”

Benedict smiled widely. “It is fun tae see ye blush so delicately. Besides, I didnae want ye having tae wonder fer too long, which braither ye had actually kissed.”

“Ye kissed me,” she hissed.

“I dae nae recall hearing any complaints. And whether ye realize it or nae in yer inexperience of these things, ye kissed me back.”

“Be that as it may,” she continued, clearly ignoring his very valid point, “ye didnae need tae tell me in front o’ everyone. I was so embarrassed. And what if me faither had discovered it?”

Benedict then felt a little guilty. As fun as it had been, he would not want her getting into trouble with her father. From what he had seen so far, Laird Sinclair was not a man that would have taken such a thing lightly.

“I apologize,” he said, his hands raised, and truly meaning his words. “I suppose I didnae really think about that. It was just a little fun.”

“Fer ye, maybe. Nae so much fer me.”

“I am sorry. Truly. I promise tae mind me actions in the future.”

His genuine apology seemed to calm her annoyance, but clearly agitated, she paced back and forth over the small lawn. “Ye dinnae ken what this is like fer me. Our time together in that library was the wildest thing I have ever done. It shouldnae have happened. I was as betrothed tae be married then, as I am now. But I dinnae ken,” she said, “I just got caught up in the moment.”

Benedict tried not to smile. He, too, had got caught up in the moment, and what a moment it was. He had recalled the soft tenderness of her lips many times in the last three weeks, and being so close to her again, he struggled not to advance. The thing was, he had no excuses this time. Before, he could at least claim ignorance of the lass’s identity. If he kissed her now, even with the sweet scent of honeysuckle making the moment perfect, he would be betraying his brother’s trust.

“I beg ye, please,” she said, turning to face him with a pained expression. “Ye cannae tell yer braither. I fear it may put this alliance at risk, and after what our clan has suffered, I cannae begin tae imagine how I would live with meself fer causing such a disaster.”

Lady Sinclair did not need to expand on her words. Benedict was well aware of the loss the Sinclair Clan had suffered, as well as the continuous attacks from Laird Keith. The man was relentless. Besides, he had to take some responsibility for what had happened between them as well.

What she didn’t realize was, Audor would likely not care one way or another. It wasn’t as though he were in love with this lass. The alliance would bring their clan more wealth and lands. And yet, Benedict was certain Audor’s motivations were deeper than that. He suspected his brother felt sorry for the old man.

But clearly, Lady Sinclair was worried, and so, Benedict nodded. “All right. I willnae tell him. Yer secret, our secret, will remain between us.”

Relief flooded her face, and a deep sigh left her body. “Thank ye. Ye dinnae ken what that means tae me.”

He then gestured toward the castle. “Perhaps we ought tae return. We dinnae want tae give anyone any ideas.”

“Aye, o’ course.”

The evening continued without any further disturbance. Mindful of his promise, Benedict refrained from any more teasing, and instead, tried to put Lady Sinclair at ease by telling funny stories of him and Audor growing up. The hour grew late, and the Sinclairs eventually retired, expressing their exhaustion after their long travel.

Benedict, himself, was tired, and after a night cap with Audor and Killian, he announced his retirement too. Audor walked him to the study door. “Ye still need tae talk tae me, braither?” he said quietly, so Killian could not hear.

Benedict swiped a dismissive hand. “It can wait.”

Audor frowned. “Are ye sure?”