Chapter 5

The castle was oddly quiet, which was it's usual state until the arrival of twenty odd Highlanders barely a few days ago. It was in this state that Evie remembered it most, and while she was quite disappointed that she could not join and see how a Highlander actually hunts (she scoffs at the way Englishmen used bloodhounds, especially after her mother had told her about the game hunts her brother and uncles used to set upon), she did thank the heavens for little blessings. After having been cooped up for so long in her room, it was a great boon to be able to escape her room.

When her father had left, the Viscount had stated that until the party returned, Evie could roam as she liked. The footmen was to call her only when their party returned, and for awhile Evie enjoyed the freedom as she wandered into the kitchen to steal a tart (and escaping Mrs. Fenton's spatula), before meandering towards the library.

Evie wouldn't call herself an avid bluestocking by any means, but after her mother's death, the library was the only way she could continue to listen to any more stories. There weren't many, and she's exhausted her resources over the past 4 years that many of them she's already been through multiple times. But she still returned, and as usual headed straight for the right most corner of shelves, where her most well-worn books sat.

The spines were familiar, titles Evie was now more then at home with. She picked her favorite Highland folklore, it's title emblazoned across it's spined in gold letterings. Settling in her usual settee, Evie had just begun to read the story of a maiden who turned into a seal when the heavy swing of the oaken doors made her look up - and an instant feel of panic gripped her.

With windswept hair and a flushed face beneath his darker exterior, Connor had thought to seek refuge in the library the Viscount's daughter had brought him to earlier the day before. Too worn out after a sleepless night, Connor had barely been able to keep up with the party, much to Hammond's disgust and consternation.

"What's the matter with you? You're usually on top form, but right now you make me ashamed to call you my first in command, Connor Gilroy." Hammond's tone of disgust was clear in his voice, a tone that Connor knew he deserved. Having trained together practically for life, Hammond knew his capabilities beyond anyone else, and Connor had never failed him before. Yet right now with his thoughts awash of his red-headed gealbhan, Connor found it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"I.. Maybe it's just me getting used to the English soil, Hammond. Found it difficult to fall asleep." It was a lame excuse at best, but Connor found himself unwilling to reveal the cause of his lack of sleep to anyone just yet.

His Laird levelled him a suspicious look, but scowled and motioned at him to keep his bow and arrows. "You're useless to us if you continue anyway, you may as well return. Lord Verrick, we'll continue our own."

"The captain-"

"He'll be alright. He knows his way around." And before the Viscount could protest (although both Hammond and Connor was quite curious as to why would he even protest Connor's early return to the castle), the imposing MacKenzie clan chief had ridden away, and the English lord was left with little choice but to follow.

Upon his return to Cavalon Castle, while he had dabbled with the idea of returning to bed, taking a nap seemed almost blasphemous to a warrior trained to function even in the harshest of weather. As such, he finally decided to search out the nearest point for port, or any form of hard liquor he could get his hands on to at least get some of it out of his system. Yet Connor had never expected to come face to face with the object of his obsession, on his quest to get rid of her for a little.

Taken by surprise, and having always seen her features in darkened lighting, he almost didn't recognize her in the day. The pale green day dress she wore clung to her every curve, it's simple cut doing nothing to hide her body when she jumped up in surprise, a gasp causing her to drop the book she held. Red hair fell in tendrils framing her pale face, and Connor was now bestowed with a full view of the green eyes that haunted his dreams.

"Gealbhan, I thought you only appeared in my dreams." he finally said, recovering from his surprise to lean against the frame of the whiskey cupboard. His own eyes flicked downwards towards the fallen book, and he raised his brows the moment he recognized the title. "Do you fancy Highland folklore?" Was she a Highlander? Even if she wasn't, she could be mistaken for one, with what he suspected was a fiery temperament hidden behind her self imposed mutedom.

"Do you want me to read to you?" Venturing forth, Connor half expected her to bolt, but Evie stood her ground as he got nearer, picking up the book off the ground and falling into the settee she had previously occupied. "The Mermaid Wife." he read off, and chuckled giving Evie a wry look. "You like to watch people getting beheaded?"

Evie immediately wore a horrified look, shaking her head vigorously again until Connor laughed and pulled her down next to him. "I jest, gealbhan. Sit, I shall read for you."

She wanted to, but curiosity flooded her. Evie had never been one good at holding back her curiosity, and as a result of that the girl resisted, pushing herself up before throwing Connor a questioning look as she mimed pulling a bow. The captain raised a brow, taking a while to understand her meaning before a lopsided grin appeared. "You have only yourself to blame for me being here."

Evie cocked her head, and he reached forward to cup her chin, bringing his face forward towards hers. "You haunt my dreams, gealbhan . Sleep eludes me at night. How am I to hunt when I may shoot my own men in my daze of dreaming of you?" His words and proximity immediately made Evie's cheeks burn, and Connor chuckled when she saw her cheeks flaming red, obvious due to her pale skin. He was about to settle down, when she shot up. "What's wrong? No one is at home. They will not know we're here." He raged against her leaving, yet it appeared she was doing exactly that.

Looking wildly around, Evie grabbed a book and shoved it at him, before running out of the library. Helpless to do anything but watch, the captain stared at her retreating figure, before noticing the book she had shoved in his hands, it's title screaming at him in a voice he could only imagine belonged to her.

The Mermaid of Knockdolion

He knew the story of a mermaid who would only come on shore at night to sing... at night. With that, a grin spread across Connor's face again, for he suddenly couldn't wait for nightfall once more.

---

Rolling awake as the sun graced through her open window, it was with much effort that Evie finally pried her eyes open to face the early afternoon sun. Usually a girl who rose at a decent hour just in time to break fast, in a way Evie had to be thankful that because of Amelia taking her place as the Lady Evelyn Verrick, there had been no need for her to make an appearance for her father.

Nevertheless though, the blissful look still swam on her features as she lingered on her bed, barely noticing the commotion going on just before the bailey.

The last thing she remembered going to bed was his face smiling as they had strolled the grounds during their meeting at midnight. It hadn't been an earth shattering night, where axis shifted and worlds collided, yet speaking with him, just being with the Captain Connor Gilroy was enough to spread warmth throughout every part of her body. His attentiveness, boyish playfulness, his darkly handsome features were enough to make Evie's knees go weak at the sight of him.

He had insisted to walk her back to the main hallway after they had did a turn around the grounds, despite conversation being pretty one sided. Evie had tried her best to tell what she wanted to, respond as per his words as he told her about their travels here, the festivals in the Highlands, and of his wish to return there before the Yule season. Evie too had tried to respond in kind, pointing out her little garden of herbs, showing the places she played as a child, and even laughing once when he teased her of being a veritable garden gnome when he saw how prosperous her garden was.

But two consequent nights of losing sleep was taking it's toll on both of them, ending with them returning to their respective rooms earlier then before. Which brought her to where she was now, still twined beneath her coverlet until her ears finally picked up on how much of a commotion was going on in the bailey beyond her window.

Curious now, Evie threw her covers off and hurried got dressed before opening her room door to address her assigned footman on guard. "Samuel, what is going on in the training field?"

"Oh, the Highlanders had stipulated that they needed some time to train. Lord Verrick suggested a friendly between our people and the Highlanders."

"They are fighting?" Evie squeaked, and before Samuel could protest and withhold her, Evie had took off at a run towards the nearest stairwell. Bounding up taking  two steps at a time, she finally stopped on the second flight downwards that led to the training grounds, a point which gave her view of the training grounds.

The sun had been a rare sight for her, but with it glinting off shirtless men with only their kilts covering the most important bits of them, sun gleaming off sweaty chests and bare backs, now that was an even rare sight for a rather sheltered daughter of a Viscount. Swinging their heavy claymores, cheers were interspersed with jeers as an obvious  Highlander (they were distinctively larger then her father's men) engaged his claymore with the attacking soldiers, easily swinging it away before lunging forward in a jab that met it's mark with a loud clang of steel against shield.

The Highlanders immediately cheered, unafraid of celebrating all of their victories. Admitting defeat gracefully, the soldier backed off and the Highlander in question smirked and brought his claymore up again, as if asking if anyone else dared challenge him. "He has been there for awhile. He is the Laird MacKenzie, and he has been there for quite awhile. I'm not sure if anyone else is capable of going up against him."

Samuel's voice appeared next to her. Evie cautiously glared at Samuel, but the footmen only managed a pleading look. "My Lady, I have my orders. Please come with me back to your room."

In all honesty, Evie would've went with him if just to make sure he didn't get in trouble with her father, but just as she was about to agree, a loud cry went out louder then any of them have ever heard. Evie instantly forgotten what Samuel had asked, focus changing towards the lists where a thrill shot through her when she instantly recognized who had stepped in the lists.

Connor.

"The captain is challenging his Laird?" Even Samuel sounded surprise, duty forgotten as they both stood, mesmerized as the two Highlanders engaged in what almost seemed like a well choreographed dance. At the same time however, it seemed a sin to call it a dance, too rugged and rough around the edges to belong in a proper England ballroom.

Each clash of metal against metal only increased Evie's panic, for she didn't want to see blood spilled on the ground. She was a gentle girl at heart, who couldn't stand violence of any sort. The fact that it was Connor in question who was wielding a claymore and stood bare chested against someone else, only made her panic increase even more. Did he not see the benefits of at least wearing a chest plate?

The tension and excitement was palpable even up till where Evie stood, for it had been awhile since their first in command had went up against their laird. Hammond was a fearsome warrior, called by many as the Lucifer of the Highlands with not many who could hold their own against his swordplay. Connor was one of those few, and he smirked when they finally faced off, eyes meeting eyes.

It was as if they could guess each of their moves before they even struck, for they met each other blow for blow. Each blow also struck like a hammer to Evie's heart, as she watched. And when a cry went out along with a collective gasp, Evie wasted no time and took off running the last flight downstairs, bursting across the courtyard. She picked up her skirts and dashed across, forcefully pushing her way through the wall of sturdy Highland bodies only to get herself yanked back as the loud sound of metal against metal resounded even louder when she was in such close proximity.

"Do not enter the lists, not when they still go on lass!"

"But they bleed!"

"Tis normal, they shall be fine."

Evie could not comprehend how could the Highlander say they would be fine, when the girl was horrified as blood dripped on the dirt ground from a cut in Connor's right arm. The gash was deep to her eyes, but blood generally did not sit well with her.

But while the gash looked serious, Connor barely felt it as he quickly blocked an oncoming blow by Hammond, sliding his blade against his laird's to throw him off with a satisfied smirk. It throbbed, but it wasn't anything worst then he's had before. Determined to best him at least once, the dark haired warrior was about to launch at Hammond when his stumbling laird swayed sideways, and Connor went slack jawed at the sight he was bestowed upon.

His fire angel.

What was she doing here? Immediately, a sense of anger filled Connor when he saw one of his man holding a vise grip on the redhead's increasingly reddening arm. The feeling of blistering someone was not uncommon to him, just never to his own men before. Was she alright? Why did she wear a look of panic? Noticing where she looked, he involuntarily followed her gaze to his open wound, and a warm thump hit harder in his chest. Was she worried for him? Was that why she had came? For if that was what it took for her to come, Connor would injure himself a thousand times over for her.

Thing was, he was so distracted that he didn't even notice until he felt the searing pain on his chest, felling him like a tree meeting the night.