Adam watched as Rebecca bobbed her head in time to the music of the Traditional Grand March, a look of rapture on her face as she took in the swirling plaid of the dancers in front of her. Her fingers tapped on her knee as she sat, and Adam could well imagine her in the midst of a pretentious dance at an English country home, her pretty skirts swirling about her as she threw her head back in laughter at something her equally debonair partner whispered in her ear. He felt a tightening in his stomach as he thought of it and tried to deny the shot of jealousy that coursed through him.

He wondered what she thought of this celebration. The dance was held not in a building of any sort, but rather the yard of his family’s home. The day was fair and the keep would become crowded with the mass of people, and so they had cleaned the yard instead.

Adam saw his sister go over and sit with Rebecca, her dark head contrasting with Rebecca’s auburn hair. He saw Peggy glance back at him, meeting his eye with a smirk, and he looked away quickly, irritated that he had been caught staring.

“It looks to me like the English lass might fancy a dance,” he heard Roderick say in his ear, and he turned to see his brother’s customary grin upon him.

“You should dance with her then, if that’s what ye think,” he responded, turning his face stonily back to the dance floor.

“Sadly, I dinna think the lass wants me,” he said. “Any attention I’ve paid to her has gone rather unnoticed while she continues to moon over you. Why, Lord knows. Must be that pretty face of yours, though it’s been short a smile as of late.”

Adam turned to look at him.

“What are ye on about?”

“Ah, we’ve all noticed the two of you staring at each other when ye think no one’s looking. It’s rather sweet, it is,” Roderick said laughing, and ducked as Adam reached out to give him a shove.

“Come off it,” Adam said, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Adam!” Peggy joined them, apparently deeming Rebecca able to sit alone. “I think Rebecca wants to dance. Can you ask her?”

“What is it with the two of you?” he asked. “The lass was shot barely three days ago and ye want me to take her for a turn on the dance floor? Have your brains been addled?”

Peggy shrugged. “She’s a small enough thing, Adam, I think ye could manage to keep her weight off the leg, could ye not?”

At the sight of his mother approaching them, Adam determined that there was no way he was winning this battle against the whole of them.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll ask her.”

“Oh, and Adam?” said Peggy as he turned to leave. “Do take that frown off your face. You’re beginning to look like Finlay the way you’ve been growling about.”

He shook his head at her, though he couldn’t resist a small grin at his older brother’s expense before moving toward Rebecca. He stood next to her, and she looked up at him wide, expectant eyes.

“Adam, you look very handsome this evening,” she said, and he felt his cheeks warm in response. Usually when he received a compliment on his looks from a young woman around here, it was given in a much more forward manner.

“Ah, thank you,” he said in response. “You look rather well yourself.”

He heard rather than saw Peggy behind him as she let out a snort of laughter, and he could have kicked her. He was usually much more eloquent with his words, yet somehow Rebecca seemed to reduce him to drivel.

She was much kinder than his sister, however. “Thank you,” she said with a pretty smile. “When my father visited, he brought me a couple changes of clothes, at the very least. At first I was rather put out he had brought one of my less practical dresses. However, it all worked out well as I could wear it to the wedding.”

The dress was a pretty pink, the color of a rose.... Adam was never one to typically notice a woman’s clothing, but somehow he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, holding a hand out to her and he saw her eyes light up.

“Oh, I would so love to!” she said. “However I really should stay off my leg. It is healing rather nicely, ’tis true, but I shouldn’t like to slow the process.”

He nodded, agreeing with her, but then his mother was beside him.

“Adam will help you keep weight off the leg, will ye not, Adam?” she said, looking at him with a smile. For the love of all that was holy, his family needed to learn to keep to themselves and out of his life, he thought but fixed a tight smile on his face.

“I will,” he said, and Rebecca gracefully rose from her chair, resting her hand on his arm, her weight hardly making an impact as she leaned on him and he led her into the square where the dancers stepped to the beat, though he kept her far to the outside where he could make sure she wasn’t bumped in any way. He placed an arm around her, taking the weight, little as it was, from her injured leg.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, as if suddenly realizing just how close they would be if he were to be lifting her.

He nodded, though he felt somewhat strained as he did so. Feeling her body, so soft and inviting, next to his was certainly enticing. He had tried to keep himself away, and now here he was, holding her close as could be.

As he began to practically carry her in circles, however, he could no longer regret a moment of it nor feel any animosity toward his family. The glow of the torches that had been set up around the square played across her dainty features. A smile stretched from one side of her face to the other, showcasing her perfect teeth and eyes that were practically sparkling.

“Oh, Adam,” she said with a contented sigh. “This is absolutely magnificent.”

“What do you mean?” he said, somewhat confused.

“Everything. The stars twinkling high above us in the sky. The freshness of the air around here. The opportunity to dance with— to dance.”

She smiled at him, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you.”

He cleared his throat, surprised to find himself nearly overcome with emotion.

“Are you not used to dancing in much finer surroundings?” he asked.

“Hardly!” she said with a bit of a laugh. “No, unfortunately I have all the dresses for it, but my father is not one to enjoy dances and the like. He would prefer to go out to his clubs. We do attend dinners with some of his acquaintances, and at times there will be a small dance floor, but we hardly ever find ourselves at an actual ball. If we do, I am not exactly the first choice for a partner. I have no title and no dowry, so I am not typically much sought after.”

“But you’re beaut… ah, that is, you certainly must be pleasing to the gentlemen, are ye not?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Why, Adam McDougall, I think you just somewhat gave me a compliment!” she said, laughing at him. “You needn’t pity me too greatly, for I am fortunate enough to receive the odd dance request. However, in London, if one is to look for a partner any further beyond one dance, it seems there must be more to be gained than simply a pretty face. If that, of course, is what you are suggesting.”

Her eyes twinkled, teasing him, and he smiled at her tone.

“I am sorry to hear that,” he said. “The young gentlemen of London do not know what they are missing. And aye, lass, that was a compliment.”

When the dance finished, he returned her to her seat, nodding his head at her and finding his brother once more. Roderick gave him a wink as he leaned back and looked at him. “’Twas not so bad, now was it?”

“No,” he said begrudgingly. “’Twas not.”

“Adam,” came a voice behind him, and he turned to find Rory approaching. The tall, broad blond man was a bit of a rascal, but despite how different they were, Adam rather liked him. Yes, he was irresponsible, but Adam found he was beginning to come round to putting his people before himself, and at the very least he could admit to his mistakes.

“Rory,” he said, clasping the man’s hand in his in a friendly hello. “Good to see you. How is everything at Darfield?”

“Oh, it’s going just fine,” he said. “I appreciate you leading the hunts while the gillie was out. It seems he is back on his feet, though, so we shouldna need you for the remainder of this tour.”

“Thank the Lord,” said Adam in honest gratefulness. “I dinna think I could spend one more day with those men.”

Rory shrugged. “Ah, some aren’t so bad after a while.”

“You’re a better man that I, Rory,” said Adam with a shake of his head.

“Before I forget, Trenton sent a message with me,” Rory said, and Adam looked at him with sudden attention.

“Oh?”

“Aye. He said it’s time his daughter came back to Darfield, as they only have a day or so more before they return to London. He said she’s likely to be healed by now and he sees no reason for her to remain. I can stay and take her home if ye’d like, or—”

“No,” Adam said with a shake of his head. “’Tis fine. We’ll see her back to you on the morrow. You have enough to attend to with all the men at your keep. I shouldna want to delay you, and I’m sure my mother will want to take another look at her wound before the girl leaves.”

“Whatever is yer preference,” said Rory with a shrug.

“’Twoud be best,” he said, his gaze darting back to the slip of a woman. Tomorrow they would say goodbye. What had he been thinking, holding any feeling toward her? For he realized that his attachment to her had been growing. He was captivated by her, despite his initial misgivings. Regardless of their differences, she had bestowed no judgment upon his family or his people but had rather embraced them all while keeping a lively, generous spirit.

That was all well and good, he reminded himself, but she was not for him, nor ever would be. No matter how she treated them, her father and her own people looked down on him and his fellow Highlanders, seeing them more as hired hands than anything else. No, she was not for him, and he would be best to keep his distance. He would have Roderick return her tomorrow, he decided, and would put her out of his mind for good.