Chapter 7

Frustrated at being stuck in bed, by the third evening of his imposed confinement to the bed, Connor was close to going stark raving mad. As a warrior, staying anywhere for a long period of time did not sit well with Connor at all, so it was no surprise that when the knock sounded on his door the evening before dinnertime, Connor froze at where he was pacing the floor next to his bed. Any longer and he would've worn a pathway in the carpeting.

"Who is it?"

"Captain Gilroy, I've brought the one you wanted to see." he recognized the voice as Lady Evelyn's, but his chest thumped harder at the meaning behind her words, rather then her voice. Was it her? Suddenly in a panic, Connor's first reaction was to look wildly around, attempting to dress his half naked body. It was only when he was halfway through pulling on his thin linen shirt, did Hammond's words reverberate within his head again.

"Don't make a fool of yourself for a girl, Connor Gilroy."

Has he been doing that? In a way, Connor felt like he should feel ashamed for acting the way he did, like an untried lad in the throes of his first puppy love. What love, when he didn't even know the girl? She was fetching, that was for sure, and a zeal for life that was refreshing compared to a regular Highlander's presistent need for battle. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds in a mine... and he should not be thinking that way for her.

Enough, Gilroy. You're overreacting for her. You don't even know her. Just see her, satisfy your curiosity with her name and who she is, and let it go. It's only because you can't get your answers about her that has you so obsessed with her. Just get it out of your system, Connor Gilroy.

Firmly trying to set that idea into his head, he yanked his shirt over his shoulders, wincing as it pulled at his bandaged upper arm and chest, before proceeding to open the door, revealing the brunette Lady Evelyn... and his redhead vision. At the sight of her, it took awhile before the captain had to remind himself firmly again that he should not be reacting this way, and instead attempted a genial smile. "Lady Evelyn, tis a pleasure to see you."

"Captain Gilroy, she is a servant girl who works within Cavalon Castle. She helped when you got injured."

"Thank you, Miss...?"

"It isn't a big deal, Captain Gilroy. Tis my pleasure, and my duty." she sounded so meek. Was this even his gregarious angel he met under the moonlight? Her voice was beautiful, like a nightingales song on a warm summer night. But her demeanour made Connor balk, for she wouldn't even look at him directly with those green eyes he knew resided under those long lashes. Was she put up to this? Was she told to be submissive? These were not the actions, for he knew his gealbhan was no insipid maid.

"I have duties, Captain Gilroy, which I should return to. Please do call on me if you need anything else tended to in regards to your injury." With that, she scurried away, leaving Connor with even more questions then what he had expected to get answered, his eyes staring at her disappearing form turning the corner down the hallway. "Captain?"

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Lady Evelyn. I was... What was her name?"

"I... I'm sorry, I cannot recall Captain. But are you better now? Does your wound still hurt? Would you like to join us for dinner in the dining hall?"

"Will she be there?" he couldn't stop himself from asking, not waiting for the brunette's answer before he butted in "Let her be one of the serving maidens in the dining hall. I shall join you." Without letting a word in edgewise, Connor retreated into his room, leaving Amelia with a gaping jaw wondering what could she do now.

Realizing that standing there was not going to help much, Amelia picked up her skirts and took off after where Evie had wandered off to, only having to skid to a stop when she realized she had overtook Evie, who had ended up leaning against the wall with a dazed look on her face. "My lady? Evie? Are you alright?"

The girl in question found it a little hard to focus, not after she had had her first chance speaking to him. It may sound like a silly young chit's dilemma, but the loose linen shirt he wore seemed to bring out the striking dark handsomeness in him even more. The way his eyes focused on her made Evie thank goodness that she had averted her gaze from him. His voice sounded stronger, more powerful then ever in broad daylight, and when a lock of hair had fell over his eyes as he looked down, Evie wasn't sure if she could continue staying.

It was why she had fled as fast as she could, as much as Evie wanted to look closer at him, borrowing the rare times she could see him without only the light of the full moon to aid her. "Evie?" Amelia repeated, with a shake that finally shook Evie back to reality.

"Are you alright?" The gentle voice of her lady's maid served as an anchoring point for Evie. She turned to Amelia, and thanked god for the bad lighting in the sparsely lit hallway that hid her flush as she shook her head. "I'm fine, Amelia. I thought you were going to escort him down to the dining hall?"

"There's a problem, my lady. He want's you there."

---

"You're not in your right mind, Connor." Hammond's tone was more accusatory, when he noticed Connor sliding in to the seat next to him. With a look of fierce admonishment, the captain met his laird's hard gaze with stubborn one of his own. "What makes you say that?"

"Do you honestly want me to continue on that vein?" the other scowled, just as the redhead maiden walked in to the dining room, precariously balancing a serving tray of dishes on her both hands. Hammond however, found himself more curious regarding how Amelia seated on his right, had both eyes anxiously trained on the tottering redhead serving girl, as much as she tried to hide it by tilting her head downwards to concentrate on her soup.

"Is everything alright, Lady Evelyn?"

"Oh! oh, everything's great Laird. I just... erm, my-my neck has a-a crick in it so-so I'm trying to straighten it out."

He frowned, noting how flustered she looked, wondering when Connor intercepted him with a nudge on his shoulder and a smirk that caused Hammond to further deepen his scowl. "And what was that?"

"What was what?" the laird snapped at his best friend, intentionally averting his gaze and suddenly very interested in his soup. Connor didn't miss a beat, the slick tone oiling his every syllable whilst he spoke. "That, Hammond. I've never heard you use that tone with anyone but Gillian before. Are you sure you're heeding your own advice?"

"Of course. I have no need for any woman until the time is right."

"Which should be soon, isn't it? You're nine and twenty by now. Well past the age to start siring bairns."

"Is that why you're like a dog in heat, Gilroy?" It was friendly banter between the two, and Connor chuckled at his friend's defensive stab at him, leaving the topic at hand to return to his food. Nevertheless, he found his gaze sliding to the Lady Evelyn right now, wondering if he would have a future lady of the realm next to his laird. Would he be okay with that? While they've been at Cavalon Castle for a week now, and Connor apparently found one English maid entirely enrapturing, that didn't mean that Connor was happy with the English in general.

The redhead of his dreams did not mean that the English were still not the selfish, greedy mongers Connor had grown up to believe them to be. As it was, he wasn't entirely comfortable with how the Viscount behaved. He was polite, but that was about the extent as to which he was, and Connor felt no love lost between the two.

As his soup was swept away and replaced with a dish of roasted quail however, the first in command involuntarily found his eyes sliding back to her standing with a jug of water in her hands. Why did she look so uncertain? Was she often in the dining hall? Or did his request put her in a difficult position?

"Lord Karlsborough, I have to say, I'm verra curious on the name of the maiden who had helped me when I was injured. Would you mind if I get her name?"

Did he imagine the look of panic on his face? Maybe he did, for it seemed to disappear mere moments later, as the balding old Viscount laughed and shook his head. "I don't mind at all, but do we really need to bother with the names of the help, Captain? Do not mind them, for they are just doing what they are paid to do afterall."

Hammond's eyes flashed at the insensitive comment from the Viscount, stepping in to defend. "My captain wishes to know, Viscount. I'm sure it is no harm nor any bother just for a simple question, is it not?" His tone was clipped and dangerous, a warning that even Gregory Verrick picked up on. The Viscount exchanged a nervous look with his daughter standing in a corner, trying to stay inconspicuous. Which was difficult, with how his eyes kept slipping her way.

Did he have to look so enchantingly handsome, even in a simple white tunic shirt and his kilt belted to his side? Uncombed hair seemed to only add on to his good looks, which was frustrating as Evie was already finding it difficult to concentrate on the task of holding this jug of water. Was it so difficult being a serving maid? Was this what Amelia and her friends went through everyday? Making a mental note to figure out ways she could ease their burden, Evie had almost started when she heard the laird's response to her father, her mind racing. What would she give them, if they ended up asking?

She didn't want to lie, but until they left, there was no way she could answer to the name Evie, for it was too close to her actual name, which Amelia now carried as her own. So consumed she was in trying to find a solution so her father wasn't dragged through even more mire that Evie hadn't noticed the tureen of steaming sauce coming out until it slammed into her. The next thing she knew, Evie's skin burned as the sauce seared the surface, eliciting a loud squeak as she tried to shake off as much of it as possible.

Try as she may, damage was already done as her skin burnt bright red like a lobsters, and her ears rang from the biting pain that attacked. Evie had barely noticed as a warm pair of arms caught her shoulders, the faint notice of Amelia and her father hovering along with a handful of servants. She heard a warm voice call for a towel, deft and strong hands quickly brushing away the brunt of the burning sauce on her bare arms, before she was picked up in a strong embrace.

All of that passed in a haze for the pain blurred the edges of her vision, dulled her sense of hearing. It was only through a thick wall that Evie heard that same warm voice call for a basin of cold water brought to a room off a corner, heard the scraping of the castle doors with their bailey announcing someone's arrival, before the noise outside was shut off as the doors to the sitting room those strong arms had brought her into slide close, blocking the commotion forming outside.

"Shh, it'll be alright. It's red, but it's nothing too serious." The husky timbre was soothing, brought a sense of calm to Evie as deft hands dipped a clean cloth into a basin filled with ice and water. The relief that the cold cloth pressed to her arm brought her senses back to life, and only then did Evie notice that it was Connor whom had brought her in, his black irises flecked with concern and worry as he focused his gaze on her whilst his hands held the cold compress to the reddened skin.

"Th-thank you."

"You should've been more careful. Do you not work in the dining hall often, then? I'm sorry if my request troubled you."

Belatedly, Evie noticed the tone of guilt that laced his voice, making her jump to defend himself quickly despite her shaky tone, still recovering from the shock of getting burnt. "Don't blame yourself, please. I was careless, and should've paid more attention."

"Good thing I was around, wasn't it?" the smirk he flashed her made Evie wonder if she could even stand when she was finally supposed to. It lent a sense of boyish air to his already ruggedly handsome face. Was it even fair for one to be so well made as he? God obviously was too generous when it came to the creation of Captain Connor Gilroy.

Pulling the cloth from her arm, Connor frowned at how the skin still shone brightly, dipping the cloth in ice and quickly replacing it again. "I've told someone to get some salve they have, they should be coming soon."

"Oh, I hope they know where it's kept. It's a good thing I've made more last month."

"Do you work as a healer in the castle then?"

"No."

"Can I know your name?"

Silence. Connor looked up, frowning when he saw the uncertainty warring on her features. "Is everything alright, gealbhan?"

Evie's chest pummelled like crazy when she heard the name he's taken to calling her. The way it rolled off his tongue with the husky timbre that was so distinctly his... how would her name sound like on his tongue? Would it be warm? Would he whisper it in her ear? Evie flushed when the thoughts invaded her mind, thinking of him so close to her not doing any better. Connor blinked as her cheeks flushed red. "Are you alright? Does it pain you?"

"No! I mean no-no, I'm-its fine." she paused and blinked, the fact that she was alone with Connor in the sitting room finally sinking in. She was surprised that her father had let her, actually. "Where is fa- Where is everyone?"

---

"Duke of Avondale, His Grace the Lord Rothesay."

Amelia's face flashed with panic, as she turned to face her lord and Viscount, paling even further when she saw the lost and terrified look Viscount of Karlsborough wore. What chance did she have if her own Viscount had no clue what to do?

Gregory Verrick was beginning to regret extending an open door to his friend, the Duke. He and Rothesay went way back to the days of Eton, and they had even gotten married on the same day, albeit in different circumstances and to different girls. Rothesay had eloped with his sweetheart, and till this day the Duchess of Avondale was a private woman who kept mostly to herself. She was no beauty, but word has it that the Duke doted greatly on her, and would not accept any word said against her.

Lord Rothesay was also a very dear friend of Gregory, both had been through hair raising days as the most notorious of their year in Eton. While Gregory was the uptight to the Duke's relaxing attitude, they melded well together. As glad as he was to see his friend however, Gregory could only manage a watery smile when he looked at the descending figure of his best friend. "I say, Verrick. Why do you look so pale? Are you quite alright? And where is your lovely Evelyn? Pippa has been asking about her, and she's asked me to bring her a letter when I told her I was visiting."

"Evie? Oh, I, that is... I mean-"

"Isn't she right here?" Hammond queried curiously. Naturally due to Rothesay's open nature, Gregory almost wanted to run away when the duke's bright eyes swung to where Hammond indicated to Amelia (who looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there right now), and frowned. "That isn't Evelyn. I'd know her anywhere. Her hair is like her mother Mailie's, red as the sunset."

"What?" Hammond's voice was now sharp, darkly dangerous and suspicious as he turned a ferocious gaze to a withering Viscount. "What is the meaning of this Viscount Karlsborough? Where and who exactly is Evelyn Verrick?"

"Please, do not blame him, Laird MacKenzie!" Amelia immediately stepped up, somehow not fearing his reaction as she lay a hand on his large figure. The warmth of her palm seeped into his tunic, grounding him to realize her large brown eyes staring up at him. The longer she looked, the more the red in his eyes subsided, until Amelia noticed his gaze focused on her again before she spoke. "Lord Verrick merely wanted what's best for her daughter. He sought to protect her, not to harm her."

"What protection does he do when he secludes his daughter away from her? What secrets does he hide?" Even if he trusted Amelia for some reason he could not fathom, Hammond glared suspiciously at the green-looking Viscount twisting his hands behind Amelia, and the rather confused looking duke.

"Who is this, Verrick? And what's the meaning of all of this?" Rothesay's rather perplexed question cut through the tension strung in the room. It took awhile of hesitation before Gregory responded haltingly. "They-they are Mailie's relatives. Her nephew apparently, who has taken over as Laird of the clan Mailie comes from."

"Clan MacKenzie. I am Hammond MacKenzie." Even through suspicion, the manners his mother had taught him at a young age remained steadfastly rooted in Hammond. The Duke's eyes narrowed at the dangerous aura Hammond wore, and then back at his friend. "And where is your Evelyn? Why did you have to hide her?"

"Did you think we would harm her, Viscount?"

"The Highlands was a brutish country from the last I remember. I took my Mailie away because she couldn't take it. I didn't want you disturbing my gentle Evie either."

"Aunt Mailie was a Highland lass through and through, you think wrong Viscount. Aunt Mailie left with you because she loved  you." Hammond scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And I bet you don't know your daughter all that well either. Where is she? I would like to assure myself of my cousin's wellbeing, which I doubt considering you didn't even know the woman you claim to love."

"I loved her!" Amelia's eyes widened,  the first time she's seen such a display of affection from her master. Gregory's eyes misted, memories of his laughing wife surfacing in his head. She had been taken too early, too soon, for now he doubted if he had done right by his daughter, their legacy. "She was a quiet little thing. I simply... thought I did the best for her."

"Aunt Mailie would've done anything you wanted. She saw that you couldn't take the Highlands, from what Father told me. She was quiet, but she was strong. She simply did what was best so you could be happy." Hammond's voice was soft, as he remembered his father recounting his aunt's letters. Of how much she missed the rolling mists, the cold winter air, the clear crisp grounds, the freedom the Highlands gave her. But never once did she say she wanted to return, for her husband treated her well.

The words Hammond spoke acted like a knife to Gregory, who stumbled a step backwards, a look of lost gracing his features. The forgotten Duke standing in a corner caught his arm, frowning whilst he switched his gaze between his stricken looking friend and steadfast laird. "I think I'll assist him to his room for now. Amelia, is Evelyn alright?"

The girl nodded before responding. "She's in the next room. I'll bring the Laird to see her, and I'll stay with her." Turning, Amelia quickly instructed two hovering servant girls to assist the Duke and the Viscount, before returning her attention to Hammond with a smile. "You were right though. The master has been blinded by his overwhelming protectiveness for my lady for too long. Perhaps tis time he'll listen to her, and see what she wants."

"My lady? Are you her servant then?" Hammond asked, finally noticing that with the need to be a person she was not dropped, the brunette stood tall and proud, with a brogue his sharp ears caught, something he had been suspecting for awhile now. Amelia shrugged, and indicated for him to come with her. "Not really. I'm Evie's lady's maid, but she's also my dearest friend."

"And you are?"

"My name is Amelia. Amelia Kinloch."