"You're a disgrace, Connor. I'm not even sure if I should still retain you as my first. You've been a moon ever since we arrived here! It's no wonder you've refused to return to England for so long, if that's what it's air does to you."
Hammond's disgust was clear in his voice as he paced the room where Connor was propped up against the large bed frame, wincing with each movement he made. The redhead angel of his dreams had dashed forward the moment he had been felled by Hammond, unable to get up without causing his blood to flow freely. Apparently, there wasn't a healer for miles around, resulting in her patching him up. Much to his confusion however, the Viscount insisted on watching over her as she tended to him, citing that he couldn't leave a guest in the care of just a servant.
She was just a servant? Somehow, she did not strike Connor as a servant at all. Yet the way she meekly tended to him did not remind him of the vibrant, vivacious girl who had taken root in his thoughts almost all the time by now. Did the Viscount mistreat her? The very idea had Connor clenching his fists, and would've continued doing so if it didn't cause pain to the injury in his arm.
"Connor Gilroy!"
Hammond's sharp tone sliced through Connor's daze of thoughts, his eyes focusing to meet his laird's angry look. "What is wrong with you Connor? Whatever it is, you need to get it out of your system because you are not fit to continue being my first if this is how you're going to behave."
"How?"
"Like a mooning child! Your attention is sparse, you almost got yourself killed out there for Heaven's sake! It was an attack you could've blocked in your sleep on usual days!" Hammond growled, stalking closer to glare at his brother in arms and closest friend. "It was why I didn't hold back until the last second. Just what is the matter with you?"
"I..." he tried to explain. But how could he tell Hammond of she who consumes his thoughts, his mind, his very consciousness? She who he still could not put a name to. "I'm sorry. I've been amiss in my duties, but I will not again, Laird."
"Connor." his formal tone made Hammond bite back his words, a little guilt coloring his words now as he took a seat next to his captain's bed. "I don't mean to reprimand, but this is completely unbecoming. Father would've had your head if he sees you losing it to a lady."
"It is not-"
"Don't lie to me. I know you well, brother. She was the reason why you didn't focus during our sparring, was she not?" Hammond interjected with a knowing glare. Defeated, Connor didn't seek to defend himself, and his silence was agreement enough for Hammond.
"You know Father's story. Women are no luck. They have no place in our life."
"Do you plan to never have bairns then? Never have an heir?" Connor couldn't resist but to put that question to him. Hammond's features darkened, averting his eyes for a quick moment before he responded. "I will cross that bridge when the time comes. At most, I'll pick a comely, quiet lass who will not disturb me."
He paused, his grip tightening on the belt of his kilt. "You've seen their affect, Connor. You know they aren't good for our system. They make men lose focus, lose their heads, lose their rationality! Father lost his will to survive when he lost Mother to pneumonia." Even till today, Hammond still held the idea that his Father's lost to the Drummonds was in part due to his grief at the lost of his wife.
"Is your parent's love not proof enough that women are good for men, though?"
"I would rather still have Father around, then to lose them both at the same time."
In a way, Connor had to admit the truth in Hammond's words. His heart empathized with the guarded way his laird now held himself, as he always did whenever the topic of his parents were brought about. In a way, Connor did not blame him, for Quinlan MacKenzie's death still hung heavily over his heart as well. With a sigh, the captain nodded his head slowly. "I understand, brother. I will no longer... moon over this topic."
Satisfied, Hammond bidded his brother a good rest, and left the room to the dimming evening light, just as his stomach growled. Only then did he realize that amidst the commotion, evening was quickly arriving and they had managed to miss their noon meal. Hungry was an understatement for Hammond by then, his mind made up to head to the kitchen when a figure stepping into the hallway startled him. Senses still on high alert, his hands rested on his claymore when he recognized the brunette head. "Lady Evelyn, you surprised me." he tilted his body downwards a little, and offered a smile.
In a way, he was a hypocrite. In many ways actually. For as much as he lectured his first in command to stay focused on their goal in coming here, the moment he saw the face of the women he knew as Evelyn Verrick, that involuntary smile somehow found its way to his lips. Many times, Hammond had cursed himself in his room when he knew he was alone. That he was despicable to think of her that way. She was his cousin in a way, so for Heaven's sake that alone should fend him off.
Yet her gentle demeanour, that kind heart that he's seen displayed to everyone on their days spent together, had already done leagues in softening Hammond's hard heart to her. He still didn't think women were beneficial to warriors like him at all... but for awhile, while they were within the protection of Cavalon Castle and not the dangerous lands of the Highlands... maybe for awhile, it was alright.
"The fault is mine, Laird MacKenzie, for not announcing my arrival." she replied with a quick curtsy, the dainty action making Hammond cock his lips upwards in amusement. "I've told you a thousand times Lady Evelyn, that you call me Hammond."
She flushed, a reminder of how pale her cheeks were. Was that a lilt he heard in her voice? He wished she would extend the same familiarity to him, yet she always insisted on Lady Evelyn. In others, it may seem prim and prude, but for the brunette before him with her gentle brown eyes, it seemed... unnatural. How could she be so sweet and nice, yet at the same time insist on her station as a lady?
"H-Hammond. I was just looking for you. Dinner will be served shortly downstairs. Is Captain Gilroy alright?"
"He'll be fine. He's had worst." he brushed off, offering an arm and relishing the spark which tingled at his skin when she took his arm, Hammond led her towards the dining room before asking. "He did ask though, on the woman who tended to him while we were outside. Does she work here? I've never seen her though." And Hammond was sure he would if he did, with her hair brighter even then his own red locks. Her eyes gleamed in a somewhat familiar way to him, but Hammond never got the chance to double check, too worried for Connor at the time.
"Oh! She-she works h-here in... in a way."
The chieftain of the MacKenzie clan frowned, surprised. The Lady Evelyn was not usually so skittish, yet suddenly she shifted uneasily under his arm. "In.. what way, exactly? Connor would like to thank her."
"I-I'm not sure if she could be found.. that is, I mean I'll ask for her! I'm quite sure Father would... wouldn't mind!"
Suddenly, she parted from his arm the very second they stepped into the hall to rush to the Viscount's side. Despite his curiosity on the hurried, heated whispers passed between daughter and father, Hammond tried, but could not ignore the sudden emptiness that had been filled by her arm before.
---
"I do not want to do this but we have no choice. I have warned you that you're to stay hidden, Evie! How could you just dash out that way!"
Her father paced as he raged in her room, Amelia in her dress of ice blue silk stood in a corner with her head bent. Evie on the other hand, tried and failed to not look overjoyed at how she now could go out of her room, no longer trapped within. He had asked for her! Did he want to know who she was? She had spent the past two days getting berated by her father, but when the injured captain has asked for her, Gregory Verrick almost panicked.
"You will see him once, and that is it. No more, Evie, do you understand? You will go as a servant girl, and you will not let him know your name. They already known Amelia as Evelyn. To know your name would not do at all!"
"Yes Father." Meek was not in Evie, which was why she got a rather curious look when she adhered so obediently to the Viscount's demands. The elder male scrutinized his daughter with a frown. "I mean it Evie. They are brutish. You've seen how they fight with each other. You won't like it in the Highlands, no matter what your Mother's stories say."
"But Father, you don't even know Mother's stories!"
"I know the Highlands, remember? It was why I brought your mother away."
"And she wanted to go back so much! You were the one who refused to return there!" Gone was the obedience Evie had tried to please her father with just moments ago, that familiar hard-edged stubborn nature of hers putting Gregory Verrick back on his guard with a hardened look, a stubborn will that rivalled his daughter's. Amelia forever wondered at how alike the two were like, as much as they argued with each other.
"My word is final, Evelyn Verrick. Amelia will bring you to see the captain once he's able to move about, and that's the only time you will speak to them."
Gregory swept out and Amelia quickly went to Evie's side, placing an arm on her lady's in an effort to try and placate the furious look on her face. "He's unbelievable Amelia! He seems to have a single view on the world: his. And he expects us all to follow it!"
"He only acts in your best interest, my Lady. You know the Viscount holds no ill will to you."
"Why is he so dastardly against the Highlands anyway? If he loves mother as much as he claims to, he should see why the Highlands are beautiful to her! She missed them so much." Evie moved over to her bed and sat on the edge, imploring eyes searching for answers when she glanced at Amelia. Helpless, the handmaiden could only pick up a dress laid on the bed and motioned at Evie that she'll help her change.
"Lord Karlsborough has an overprotective nature. He was the second son, remember? He only took over as the Viscount after your uncle, his older brother died from a duel without an heir. Before that, he served as an army officer, and if I remember correctly a very well decorated one."
At that reminder, Evie had to pause in her internal raging at her father's ludicrous commands to consider things. It was true, only after her Uncle Marcus who was the previous Viscount of Karlsborough had died in a silly duel over some lady's hand, did her father step in to fill what he considered to be very large shoes. He tried his best, but in a way he still flinched at every loud and sudden sound, and acted very suspicious of those around him. While Evie balked at his nature, she had to admit to herself that her father meant no ill will.
Turning around to allow Amelia to button the row of buttons on her back, the redhead lady looked in the mirror,and smiled when her eyes met her handmaiden's. "You are wise beyond your years, Amelia. Thank you."
Amelia returned the smile, straightening up to brush out the creases that were left in Evie's dress. "I'm not wise, my lady. Simply astute. I believe that no one is inherently evil nor have bad intentions. Circumstances simply push a few to that state."
"Are you sure of that Amelia?" Evie's brows furrowed into a worried crease. "Do be careful. Not everyone can be saved."
Amelia laughed, guiding Evie to sit down at her settee and picking up her brush. "I'm not trying to save everyone, my lady. I merely like to believe the best in everyone. Afterall, if we always fight violence with violence, no one will get anywhere."
In a way, Evie had to admit that Amelia had her points. Was that why her lady's maid was always so gentle and kind? She's never seen her with a bad intention anywhere, other then perhaps the need to indulge in sweet treats whenever she could. "Are you enjoying yourself, Amelia?"
"Pardon?"
"Out there. As me. Do you like it? God knows, I'm glad Father put you in my place. You deserve it better then anybody."
Amelia flushed as she twisted Evie's hair into the messy chignon she regularly wore. "Och, my lady," her brogue coming out from her flustered state. "Tis no big fuss really. It's nice to have a break from my duties, and the Highlanders are a good break, reminds me of my girlhood."
"How was the Highlands like when you were there, Amelia?"
"I barely remember it, actually. I remember the unforgiving weather, the warm fire we gathered with our kin every night, spending time helping my Ma in the house, but I left when the treaty was signed, when I was four so I don't remember."
Listening to the soft brogue that went almost unnoticed in Amelia's voice, the redheaded girl watched her reflection as Amelia secured her hair with the last few pins, and then placed her hands on Evie's shoulders. "All done. And I think the captain should be fine now. You're going to have to check on his wound anyway, considering the healer's quite a few days away. Shall we go, my lady?"
She was finally going to actually see him. Not under the protection of the night, nor with the constraints that she couldn't talk to him. Other then not divulging her name, Evie had to grip her hands and steel her nerves, which suddenly flared to life. Because she was actually going to see him now.
"Let's go."