The Passion of London [Highlander's Love #1]

Chapter 7

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?