As Rebecca dressed in the walking gown she had originally worn to Galbury Castle — the gown she had been shot in, that Adam had carried her here in — she was filled with an odd sense of melancholy. She had not spoken to Adam again after their dance, when he had so gently held her in his arms and allowed her to glide around the yard as if she were nearly flying through the air. It had been the most magical moment of her life, and she so appreciated him for providing it to her.

She was going to miss him. She would miss all of them, she realized. She had spent a great deal of time now with the entire McDougall family, and she loved how much they cared for one another, and she appreciated the kindness they had shown her. They were what she would want in a family. They could read one another’s emotions so well, and she was envious of the bond they shared.

They had also been very welcoming to her, including her in their conversations as if she was one of them, not holding the fact she was English against her. Apparently, they had come to know her well enough to realize she was not entirely like those she traveled with, thank goodness.

Now that she was well enough to walk around on her own, albeit still with the help of a cane Peggy had brought her, there was no reason for her to stay any longer and she knew her father was insisting she return. She was to be escorted to Darfield Keep, though by whom she wasn’t yet sure.

“I can take you,” said Roderick as they sat around the breakfast table in the dining room, bestowing on her one of the grins she had come to know well over the past couple of days. He was a charmer, this one, and she could see why the village woman loved him as much as Peggy told her they did.

“No,” Adam cut in abruptly, startling her when a look of confusion passed over his own face, as is if he himself had been surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. “I will.”

“That’s not necessary,” said Roderick. “You’ve been leading the hunters all week, and ye need a break. I’ll ride over with her.”

“I said I would take her,” Adam repeated, and the rest of them stared at him over the curt tone he had taken.

“Very well then,” said Roderick, taking a sip of his tea. “You take her then, if it’s that important to you.”

“It’s not important,” said Adam gruffly, and Rebecca felt the hurt seep into her chest. But why did she care what he thought? She had known well before this that he had no interest at all in even speaking with her, and resented the fact that she was currently under their roof. And yet … she wanted him to care, to feel something for her. She kept her eyes down on her hands, which were intertwined in her lap.

“I do not wish to be a burden,” she said softly. “I’m sure if you could lend me a horse, I could find my way back just fine.”

Adam scoffed at that. “You could also get lost in the woods on your way back and then the rest of us could spend days looking for you. No, I’ll take ye back after Mother’s taken another look at that leg.”

So here she was, feeling somewhat at a loss with no bag in hand nor anything to take with her. One of the women of the village had told her multiple times how much she loved the pink gown, and so Rebecca had left her two dresses with Peggy to give to the village women. She could buy more. As she waited near the entrance of the great hall, Peggy rushed out and, taking Rebecca by surprise, engulfed her in an embrace.

“It was so wonderful having you here!” she said. “Not that it isn’t lovely having Kyla around now but, well, she’s busy, and always so awfully concerned with matters of much greater importance than I ever worry about. Anyway, I do hope our paths cross again one day. Dinna forget us.”

Her true, genuine smile pulled at Rebecca’s heart, and she drew her close once again. “I could never forget you — any of you,” she said, as Jane joined them in the hall. “Thank you so much to all of you, for your kindness and generosity. And to you, Jane, for taking such good care of me. I will treasure these memories for the rest of my life.”

She turned as the door opened, emitting Adam, who asked her if she was ready. “I am,” she said, and with one final look behind her, she walked through the door he held open for her out to where two horses were waiting. He held his hands out to provide her a step up onto the beautiful gray, before mounting his own horse beside her.

“We’d best get a move on,” he said. “’Tis a cloudy day, and I shouldn’t like to be caught in any rain.”

“But do you think perhaps…”

“Aye?”

“Could you take me down to the lake, for just a moment before we leave? I have seen it through my — your — bedroom window for days now, and I have so badly wanted to view it up close. Would you mind awfully?”

She looked up at him, hope fluttering in her chest, though why she felt so strongly about this particular visit, she had no idea. Did it really matter if she saw this lake? But it seemed as if something was calling her there, and she so wanted to have the opportunity to see it.

“I suppose for just a moment,” he said after considering for a moment, and she felt the smile break out on her face.

“Wonderful,” she said, and followed in behind him as he led her down a well-worn path in the grasses, which wound round a hill before meandering down to the water below. They came to a stop near the rocky shoreline, and Rebecca let Adam lift her off the horse.

Despite the gloominess of the day, the view was breathtaking. The water was a deep blue, its mirror-like surface reflecting the clouds above it and stretching out wider than she could see, across to the grassy knolls that reached up to the sky on the other side. There was green everywhere she looked, belying the rocky crags that one had to carefully traverse to get to the lake. Her heart soared out along the water, and before she could think of what she was doing, she was unlacing her boots, slipping her stockings off, and making her way to the shoreline with her cane.

“What are you—? Rebecca, we dinna have the time for a swim,” Adam said to her, before she heard him sigh as he walked toward her.

“I’m not swimming!” she called back to him from where she had finally made it to the water’s edge. “For I do not know how!”

She heard him curse as he began to make his way out toward her. Wearing only his kilt, he had no clothes to shed and quickly unlaced his ghillies and set them to the side.

“It’s no’ very shallow!” he yelled out to her. “Do not fall in!”

“I won’t!” she replied, smiling at his concern. “I actually have very good balance!”

She had pity on him, however, and waited for him where she stood before gingerly putting her toes into the water. It was cold, and despite the warm summer air, she shivered as the waves lapped at her ankles. She had never felt such a sensation before, spending most of her life within the city of London.

“Is it always like this?” she asked breathily, as she felt Adam’s strong, solid presence beside her.

“Like what?”

“So beautiful. So peaceful. So … free.”

He gave her a strange look but shrugged his shoulders and looked out beyond him. “I suppose so. You become somewhat used to it when you have seen it nearly every day of yer life. Although when I’ve been to the city — whether it be Edinburgh or even Inverness — I always feel the yearn to return home to this. It’s in my blood. It’s part of me.”

She looked over at him. It was the most poetic thing she had ever heard him say, and it spoke to something within her — to a piece of her that had never known a home where she felt she truly belonged.

“Have you not somewhere you feel the same?” he asked as if reading her thoughts, his gaze turning from the lake beyond them to her face. She was taken aback somewhat by the intensity of his dark eyes and the strong features of his face that were always so serious, so deep in thought.

“No,” she said, turning away from him to stare back out at the water. “I have no place, really. I have the house I grew up in, I suppose, but it is not home. It is simply a place where I eat and sleep, where I live. I could leave it forever and never miss it.”

His head dropped before he followed her stare toward a seagull that swooped down in front of them.

“That’s rather sad,” he said.

“I suppose it is,” she responded, smiling wistfully. “For they say home is with those you love, and there truly isn’t anyone that holds my heart. I respect my father, for certain, but I’m not sure … well. We have never had that close of a relationship. And there has definitely never been a man.”

“And what of your mother?” he asked her cautiously, as if he realized it may be a subject he should not speak of. “Do you still have her?”

“I do not,” said Rebecca, swallowing the lump that grew in her throat. She seldom thought of her mother, choosing not to. “Shortly after I was born, she left me with my father. They were not married, and of course, my birth meant she was ruined. She was not gentility, but her family was respected. When she gave me to my father, she told him she never wanted anything to do with either of us ever again. My father is a blowhard, a man out for himself at all times. But, at the very least, he has provided for me over the years. He’s given me a roof over my head, food on my table. He has not given me much love, and as much as I do not understand why he believes Vincent would be a good match for me, or for the company, he is trying to ensure I am provided for in the years to come. So while he is a hard man to love, I am grateful for all he has done for me.”

It was more information that she had told most, and, in fact, she had hardly thought of her father that way even to herself.

“I’m sorry,” came Adam’s soft response. “About your mother.”

“It’s fine,” said Rebecca. “I’ve never known any different.”

She cleared her throat, no longer wanting to speak on the subject.

“You said the lake is deep. Are there a few feet of shallow water? Can I wade in?”

“A few,” he said, his brows furrowing above concerned eyes. “Here, take hold of my arm in case the ground falls away. I know these waters fairly well, but there are still mysteries that lurk beneath the surface.”

“Mysteries? Like what?”

“Well, now, lassie, dinna tell me you haven’t heard of the monster that lives in these waters?”

He took hold of her elbow then, and she felt fire shoot up her arm from where his fingers lightly held her. She tried to deny how affected she was by his solid presence next to her, but she knew she was only lying to herself.

“Monster?” she asked, trying to concentrate on his words.

“Aye,” he said, mischief lighting his eyes and turning up the corners of his mouth. “We call her Nessie. She’s lived in these waters for years now, longer than any of us have been alive, that’s for certain. Now and then, when one is out swimming, ye may feel something brush by your foot with no explanation. That’s Nessie. She knows us and is just being friendly. Strangers though … she doesna like those who do not belong.”

“Like the English?” she said, trying not to laugh at his outlandish story as she turned to face him.

“Aye, like the English,” he said, smiling now in earnest. Their bare feet were planted next to one another in the water, his face so close to hers. Close enough to touch … and she did, reaching out a hand to brush a lock of hair off his forehead and back behind his ear. As she did so, their eyes met, and she knew the monster of the lake could have reared up right next to her and she would not have been able to turn away.

The laughter in his face died, his eyes hardening so dark they were nearly black. She swallowed but didn’t move, and when he lowered his head to hers, she could do nothing but meet him halfway.

His lips were as warm as the wind that swept over the lake toward them, the arms that came around her as strong and as sure as the hills that looked over them from across the water. Never before had she felt such emotion as she did when his lips moved over hers, giving and taking all that they had to offer one another.

His hands roamed her back, one settling into her hair, which had been pinned in a loose knot at the back of her head. He pulled out a couple of pins, sending it rolling onto her shoulders. She gasped, so in awe of him and the strength she felt in his upper arms, where she rested her hands without thinking. The muscles bunched underneath her fingers, and she forgot everything but the feel of him and his mouth on hers.

His tongue teased her lips, and she opened to him, gasping when the smooth velvet of him began a love play she was completely unfamiliar with yet responded to without thinking. He was more man that she had ever seen before, and she never wanted it to stop. But as a bird called, breaking the silence that had seemed to fill the air around them, he moved his hands to her elbows, and stepped away from her, leaving her feeling utterly and completely bereft.