Adam followed closely behind Rebecca as they slowly climbed the stairs. He badly wanted to help her, to pick up her small, dainty frame in his arms and carry her to bed, where he would lay down with her and soothe away all the troubles that furrowed her brow so. That, of course, was not to be. No, this beautiful Englishwoman was not for him, but for another, a gentleman who could provide her all the riches and pretty things she both wanted and deserved.

He did hope, for her sake, that the man did not turn out to be the idiot from the hunting party. For he was, as she had astutely pointed out, a man so admiring of himself that he would have little time to see beyond his own countenance and appreciate a wife, no matter how perfect she was.

He started at that. Perfect? Only a couple of days ago, he could barely stand the woman. And yet here she was in her nightclothes, her shapely curves just in front of his face as he followed behind her to ensure she didn’t fall down the stairs, tantalizing him as no woman ever had before. He wanted her, badly, but not only her body. He wanted to know what was flitting through that mind of hers that held so much more than likely most people realized. He wanted to know her secrets, her thoughts, and her dreams, to discover what she truly wanted of life and then give it to her.

Stop it, he told himself. Nothing would ever come to be, so best leave it behind and leave the lady alone. She certainly was — both literally and figuratively — making strides, he realized, as she climbed up the stairs. She was a determined little thing. He had been surprised — they all were, to be honest — when his mother had told them how old she was. She was already past 20, despite the fact she looked to be in her teens. The practical nightgown Peggy had loaned her was not only was far too big on her slight frame, but also did not suit her. He could see her in laces and beautiful silks and satins, not the cotton Peggy favored.

They stopped at the bedroom door and stood for a moment rather awkwardly.

“Here, let me take yer water in first,” he said, bidding her to wait at the door. He figured a nighttime meeting would be enough scandal, let alone for them to be together alone in her room. Even his mother would not be pleased were she to happen upon them.

He set the water on the bedside table, then returned to the door, where he waved a hand as if motioning her in. “All the bed bugs are gone,” he said with a forced smile, as he was finding it more and more difficult to stand here with her looking upon his own unmade bed, an imprint of where her body had been staring him in the face. “Goodnight, Rebecca.”

“Goodnight, Adam,” she said softly, and as he continued down the hallway to climb the stairs, he forced himself to resist turning to meet the stare he could feel burning into his back.

* * *

Peggy was in quite exuberant spirits the following morning.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully to Adam as he walked into the room. Adam didn’t mind mornings, but he was not quite as cheerful as Peggy — he didn’t think it was possible for anyone to be as lively as Peggy in the mornings.

“Are you not excited?” she asked him when he failed to respond quite as enthusiastically.

“Excited for what?” he asked, confused at what she was talking about.

“For the wedding and the dance today!”

He had completely forgotten that one of the crofters was getting married. The McDougalls had offered the great hall for the wedding reception. Now that he thought about it, he realized that the keep did look rather cleaned up and prepared.

“Hmm,” he said. “That’s right. It slipped my mind.”

“How is that possible?” she said, slapping a hand to her forehead dramatically. “We have been preparing for it for days! My, Adam, for a man who is so intelligent you do miss the simplest things.”

He shrugged. He supposed she was right. Truth be told, he had been so preoccupied with Rebecca in their home, his wind invention, and his animosity toward the English hunters that he had rather lost sight of everything else around him. He wondered if Rebecca would be attending, then pushed the thought from his mind. Why did it matter? If she did come, she would likely only look down on them and what she would consider their backward ways.

“Rebecca said she can hardly wait to come!” continued Peggy, as if reading his thoughts. “She said she has never been to a wedding before. Can you imagine, Adam? Having never been to a wedding? Does that not make you rather sad for her?”

He shrugged, although he was rather surprised himself. How could someone never have been to a wedding? Why, the people of his clan and the surrounding towns and villages seemed to have a marriage at least once a month, and it was simply a part of his life to celebrate with them. Ah well, her social life should be no concern of his.

As Peggy continued her incessant chatter he ate in silence, before heading out to the yard before his mother put him to work indoors.

* * *

Rebecca couldn’t remember a time when she had been more excited. Today she was going to be present at a wedding! She had never seen a wedding at all, let alone a Scottish wedding. She could hardly wait to witness the traditions and the love the people likely held for one another. From what Peggy said, few people here married due to an arrangement and most for love — well, with the exception of Peggy’s brother and Kyla, Rebecca was shocked to learn, although that seemed to have all worked out rather well.

When her father had come to see her following her accident, he had brought a couple of items of clothing in case she should need them. She had been somewhat annoyed he had brought finer gowns and not more practical items, although she realized it was mostly her own fault for packing such silly garments for a trip to the Highlands. Yet now she was thrilled, for the cream and pink silk was one of her favorites, and she loved the rosebuds lining the neckline and the way it flowed from her waist in alternating lines of the two colors.

She ran her hands over the soft gown before descending the stairs to join the family, all of her finery somewhat overtaken by the way she clomped down the steps with one of the walking sticks aiding her. She tried not to look at Adam, to see if he noticed the additional time she had taken with her hair and dress, but when she stole a glance, he seemed to be purposefully avoiding her eyes. No matter, she thought and met Peggy’s grin with one of her own.

They made their way to the small church in Aldourie, and Rebecca was intrigued by the number of people all dressed in their Sunday best, as well as the way they all seemed to know one another and the true camaraderie, not the cool politeness of London gatherings. The bride and groom also seemed to be sincerely in love, and Rebecca had to wipe a tear from her eye as they said their vows to one another with genuine looks of love on their faces. They had interesting traditions here, though she wasn’t sure how they differed from an English wedding, having never attended one herself. She asked Peggy about the beautiful broach the bride wore, and Peggy told her it was called a Luckenbooth, bestowed to the bride as a betrothal gift from her groom. She said it was most likely passed down through the family, and represented two hearts coming together. The red stone on top was for Mary, Queen of Scots.

When the ceremony was over, the entire party began the journey back to Galbury, and Rebecca was pleased when Peggy linked arms with her, keeping her from feeling alone and rather silly with the stick she still needed to help her walk. She appreciated the friendliness of the girl, who she got along so well with. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a wedding, and Rebecca sighed in contentment. If only someday she could have this for herself, she thought, with a man she truly loved, who loved her in return.