Page 63 of Craved By a Highland Beast

What was the point of any of this—being the laird, fighting against the English, seeking victory after victory—if he couldn’t be a decent man to Bonnie? He had been so selfish with her. He had acted on his desires and then hidden behind the words of his council like a coward, leaving her to wonder if what they had was even real.

He had caused enough damage already. All he could do now was try to fix it and pray that Bonnie would still forgive him for everything he had done.

I must find Cathleen.

In the two days that had passed since her arrival, Evan had been avoiding her, worried of what she would think of him. Bonnie had surely told her sister everything, and he didn’t want Cathleen to think he was toying with her, giving her empty promises. But now it was time to seek her out and talk to her, as he had finally made up his mind.

Pushing himself off his chair, Evan rushed out of his study and asked every guard and servant in his way if they had spotted her. It was only when he reached the ground floor that one of the guards directed him to the library, where he had last seen them.

Even better. I can speak with both o’ them.

The storms of the previous days had passed and now the sky was clear outside the windows as Evan ran to the library, finding Macauley and Cathleen there just as the guard had said. Macauley leaned against a large chair as Cathleen browsed the books, crouching down to look at the ones on the lowest shelves.

Macauley spotted him first, smiling as Evan approached. “Good mornin’,” said Macauley, but then frowned, perhaps spotting the flush on Evan’s cheeks, the thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

“Nay, nay,” Evan assured him, waving a hand dismissively. “I merely wished tae speak with the two o’ ye.”

Cathleen straightened, smoothing her hands over her green dress that seemed to make her eyes sparkle an even deeper green. “What is it?” she asked. “Is it about me sister?”

“Aye,” said Evan, but then Cathleen looked at him, alarmed, her eyes wide with fear. “Ach, nay . . . I mean, it is about Bonnie, but it isnae a bad thing. I hope.”

Cathleen frowned in confusion, but then she and Macauley looked at Evan expectantly, waiting to see what he had to say. It was then that he realized he had no idea how to approach the subject.

Better to get it over with, he thought.

“I wish tae wed yer sister,” he said. “Me council, they dinnae want this marriage, but I love Bonnie. I love her. I dinnae care what me council says or if they approve. I have already caused Bonnie too much pain an’ I never wish tae hurt her again. I’ll spend me whole life makin’ her happy, Cathleen. I swear it.”

For a few moments, neither Cathleen nor Macauley spoke and Evan feared he had said something wrong or that perhaps after everything he had done to Bonnie, Cathleen didn’t want him anywhere near her. But then, before he could question her reaction, she grinned and grabbed his shoulder, patting it with a surprising amount of force for such a small woman.

“Ye have me blessin’,” she said. “I’m sure Bonnie will be very happy tae hear this.”

It took Evan several seconds for his mind to catch up with the fact that he had Cathleen’s permission. A relieved laugh escaped him and he laid his hand over his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.

It was as though he was a boy again, preparing to speak to his first infatuation for the first time. It was strange, he thought, how love could reduce him to such a babbling, nervous mess.

“Dinnae waste any more time,” Macauley said, nodding towards the door. “Go. Find her.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Evan nodded, turning on his heel. Macauley was right; he shouldn’t waste any more time.

Rushing through the castle, Evan spilled out into the courtyard and hurried to the gardens. Just as he reached them, though, he came to a sudden halt at the sight in front of him—Bonnie, standing over a rosebush, her hand cradling one of the flowers as she took in its fragrance, the morning sun bathing her in golden light, the scene like a portrait painted by a loving hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Bonnie had taken to spending her time in the gardens, surrounded by the kaleidoscope of flowers and bushes that grew there. Today, the clear sky gave her the perfect opportunity for a stroll and she walked around aimlessly, enjoying the fragrant air around her. The sunshine, the calmness of the gardens helped her clear her mind, though she still couldn’t chase the thought of Evan away.

And then, as though her mind had summoned him, she saw him standing near the gardens, staring at her in silence.

What is he doin’ there? Why is he standin’ so far?

Slowly, as though he was reluctant to approach, Evan walked closer, stopping only a few paces away from her. “Good mornin’,” he said in such a stiff tone that Bonnie feared something was wrong.

“Good mornin’,” said Bonnie, resisting the urge to fidget with the edge of the sleeve. For a while, they fell in an odd, awkward silence as Evan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as though he was trying to say something but then changed his mind.

Looking over his shoulder, Bonnie saw there was no one else there. Patiently, she waited for him to get his bearings and tell her whatever it was he was trying to say, but the more seconds ticked by, the more restless she became.

“Is everythin’ alright?” she prompted when Evan said nothing.

It was amusing, seeing him freeze, eyes wide as though he had been caught stealing bannocks from the kitchen. He was a tower of a man, a laird with so much power in his hands, and yet here he was, unable to speak.

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