ADAM’S CALL

THE VICTORIAN HIGHLANDERS BOOK 3

ELLIE ST. CLAIR
 CONTENTS

Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Afterword
Roderick’s Purpose
A sneak peek…
Also by Ellie St. Clair
About the Author
♥ Copyright 2020 by Ellie St Clair - All rights reserved.

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Also By Ellie St. Clair

Standalone
Unmasking a Duke
The Stormswept Stowaway
Christmastide with His Countess
Her Christmas Wish

Happily Ever After

The Duke She Wished For
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
He’s a Duke, But I Love Him
Loved by the Viscount
Because the Earl Loved Me

Happily Ever After Box Set Books 1-3

Happily Ever After Box Set Books 4-6

Searching Hearts
Duke of Christmas
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Hearts of Trust
Hope of Romance
 Promise of Redemption

Searching Hearts Box Set (Books 1-5)

The Unconventional Ladies

Lady of Mystery
Lady of Fortune
Lady of Providence
Lady of Charade

Blooming Brides
A Duke for Daisy
A Marquess for Marigold
An Earl for Iris
A Viscount for Violet

The Blooming Brides Box Set: Books 1-4

The Bluestocking Scandals

Designs on a Duke
Inventing the Viscount
Discovering the Baron
The Valet Experiment

The Victorian Highlanders

Callum’s Vow
Finlay’s Duty
Adam’s Call
Roderick’s Purpose
Coming Soon
Peggy’s Love
 AUTHOR’S NOTE

Adam’s Call was first published as Treasures of the Wind and The
Highlander’s Call under the name Audrey Adair. It has been extensively
revised, and I hope you enjoy every minute of it!
PROLOGUE
July 10, 1866 ~ Aldourie, Scotland

A dam pumped his seven-year-old legs as fast as he could, his

breath coming in short, quick gasps as he struggled up the hill
after his brothers and his cousin. Even Roderick, who was
younger by two years, was up the hill faster than he. Adam stopped and
turned around, seeing his little sister climbing with reckless abandon, and
he held out a hand to help her to the top. She swatted his offer away, calling
out to him to catch her instead, before cresting the hill and rolling down it
in a fit of giggles. Adam shook his head with a smile on his face as he
looked out at the beautiful loch below them. Their older brother Callum
swore to him that a monster lived in the water, but Adam was convinced it
was a lie. There was no such thing as monsters. Callum was just trying to
scare him.
Adam took off after them once more, his legs moving so fast he could
no longer control them as Roderick called to him from the bottom of the
hill, and he barreled into the rest of the children with an “oomph,” as their
small black dog ran in circles around them, yapping in excitement.
He laughed with the sheer abandonment of youth and followed the rest
of them as they raced back to the castle bailey. He was just beginning to
realize how impressive his home was compared to those of his friends from
the village, but it was all he had ever known.
When they entered the yard, Adam waved in greeting as their friend
Kyla joined them, ducking under the hand of one of his father’s men as they
rushed past the animals.
He pulled up short when they reached the fields next to the castle. The
crofters were working hard in the rows of potatoes, and he boosted himself
up on the fence to watch them work. Even from here, he could see the sweat
drip off the men’s brows, and he marveled at how hard they were working,
digging in the earth with the sun beating down overhead.
“Hey, Mack!” he shouted to one of the men, who lived not far from
them. He had the same last name as them, although Adam wasn’t quite sure
why. “What’re ye doing?”
“Workin’, lad,” he called back. “Not like you youngsters.”
“Wanna go to the loch?”
 “Not today, Adam,” the man said, putting a hand to his back as he
straightened and then wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Not today.”
“Maybe next time,” Adam responded a bit dejectedly, then hopped off
the fence and began meandering home on his own at a much more leisurely
pace this time. He hoped he would never have to work that hard. It didn’t
seem fair how the McDougall men and women labored day in and day out.
He resolved that someday he would make life easier for them. He wasn’t
sure how, but his father was the chieftain, so he was sure something could
be done.
He would just have to figure out a way.
 1

1885 – Aldourie, Scotland

A dam McDougall put a hand to his forehead to block the sun as he

gazed out over the fields in front of him. A hot, dry wind riffled
through his long, thick dark hair, but rather than cool him, it
served to push the rivulets of sweat to run faster down his neck.
It had been unusually warm this summer, and he wasn’t quite used to it
yet.
As Adam watched the sheep meander toward the shade, he waved a
hand to Angus, a crofter who was driving the sheep forward. This hillside
outcropping could offer little in support of growing anything, but there was
enough grass for the sheep to graze.
Hoof beats thundered on the ground behind him, and he turned. A pair
of horses galloped toward him, the midnight black and striking white a
majestic pair of opposites, much like their riders.
“Finlay, Kyla,” he greeted his brother and sister-in-law.
“Adam!” said Kyla with a warm smile as she easily dismounted and
enveloped him in a quick embrace. She was a welcome addition to their
family, a girl who had been like a sister nearly their entire lives. Finlay
nodded as he slid from his horse, his face as unyielding as Kyla’s was
animated. It did not bother Adam in the least. He was well used to Finlay’s
moods, although his brother had become much more at ease since marrying
Kyla.
 “What do you think?” she asked as she stood beside Adam, overlooking
the valley below. It was Kyla who had implemented much of the change in
their lands, amalgamating areas for the purposes of greater ease and
accessibility for the crofters to work together. Their way of life was
changing, but with smart practices, the McDougalls felt they could make
the necessary alterations to keep their people from emigrating as quickly as
they had been previously.
“It’s working well,” he said, observing the patchwork quilt of lands
below them, where vegetation grew and was tended to by the crofters. He
enjoyed assisting his brother with his work, though Adam was not a natural
leader. Finlay, for all of his hardness, knew how to incite people to work
with him. “The crofters seem much happier. They are able to complete
more of their tasks in less time, and still most make it home to see their
families in the evening.”
“Good,” she said with a grin, as Finlay nodded his head.
“Thank you for your help, brother,” Finlay said. “I appreciate it.”
“I know ye do,” Adam responded. “Well, I’m off back to home. Are you
coming?”
“We’ll be along shortly,” said Finlay. “I just want to stop in quickly and
see Molly McGee and her babe.”
Adam nodded and mounted his own horse, a chestnut Cleveland Bay he
called Sloane, for the horse’s warrior roots. As he urged the horse into a
gallop over the fields on the short ride back to Galbury Castle, his mind
began churning, always at work, thinking, calculating. It was on his latest
idea, one that his family thought was quite mad. He had been to Edinburgh
some months prior and had seen firsthand the few streets now lit by
electricity. Apparently, there were homes also lit by the power, which was
primarily made through a generator powered by steam water.
It was said that London was even further ahead. Power plants were
already established, which were able to supply electricity to a great number
of people by using burning coal to drive steam turbines. He had been
fascinated. What changes this could result in, particularly for his own
people, he couldn’t be sure. When he had asked, however, he had been
laughed out of the room. He was in the Highlands, they told him. What did
he need electricity for?
He could see plenty of use for it, however. In their barns, with the
sheep. To use in the kitchens and the dining rooms of the larger homes,
where people worked to cook and serve food. True, it might take some time
for power to find its way here… but could it not be possible?
He could hardly see how coal would be used here though, he thought as
he rode. There was, of course, plenty of water, but how could it be utilized
to drive electricity? There wasn’t much else in the Highlands that could
create power, he thought as the wind chapped his face. It was too bad the
wind couldn’t be bottled, he thought with a laugh, for there was nothing
stronger around here, and it was one thing the Highlands had more of than
they wished. Unless… a thought struck him suddenly, and his mind began
to turn.
After stabling his horse and brushing him down, Adam bypassed the
main keep for the small building tucked away in the back of the bailey. He
wasn’t sure what it had originally been used for — perhaps storage for tools
or a building for particular animals. It was now his workroom. He had taken
over the abandoned building as a place he could be alone with his thoughts
and his designs.
He walked to the small desk in the corner, unfurling the paper in front of
him and dragging over the wooden stool to sit upon. He picked up a pencil
and began tracing in the components that had sprung into his mind as he
had raced home. A blade here, a turn there. It seemed like he had worked
for only a few minutes, but when he heard the door creak open, emitting
slightly more light, he was shocked to look through the small window and
see the sun was quite low in the sky.
“Adam?” came the deep voice, and he responded for his brother to
come in.
Roderick looked around him, squinting in the darkness. “How can you
even see in front of your face?” he asked. “I can barely make you out,
sitting over there in the corner.”
Adam shrugged, then realizing Roderick couldn’t see him, answered,
“I’m not sure, but I seem to be getting on well enough.”
“You’ve been out here for hours, man,” his brother said. “We’ve eaten
dinner already, but there’s a bit left for when you’re ready.”
Adam belatedly felt the emptiness in his stomach. His sister Peggy was
forever groaning about how anyone could possibly ever forget to eat, but it
was true he often did when his mind became engaged elsewhere.
Roderick leaned his huge frame against the doorjamb. “What are you
working on?”
 “Just an idea I had,” Adam returned. “I’m not sure if it could ever
work.” He paused, unsure if his idea was ridiculous, or worth discussing.
He finally decided that he needed to share his thoughts with someone.
“You’ve heard of electricity?”
“Of course,” Roderick said.
“I’ve thought of a way to generate it. A way that we could take
advantage of out here.”
“Oh?” Roderick straightened slightly. “And how would that be?”
“The wind.”
“The wind?”
“Aye.” Adam nodded. “If there is one thing we have in strong supply
here in the Highlands, it’s wind. Imagine if its power could be harnessed —
why, we would have too much electricity rather than merely enough.”
“Like a windmill to pump water? How would you propose to harness
the wind for power?” Roderick asked in disbelief.
“Aye, like a windmill. ’Tis simple, really, when it comes down to it,”
said Adam. “You make the wind move something. If whatever it moves can
go fast enough, it can take the energy from it and generate power. It’s then a
matter of storing it for future use.”
Roderick shook his head. “You’ve gone beyond me, brother,” he said.
“Though I am impressed, I will say. Come, you canna do anything more
tonight with it so near darkness. The family’s waiting for you.”
Adam sighed in frustration. He loved his family, truly he did, but they
spent so much time in the company of one another. Sometimes he longed
for solitude, when his mind could run freely.
Begrudgingly, however, he followed his brother into the main keep,
where the wide entrance of his home greeted him. The walls were warmly
covered with the McDougall plaid, and the smell of roast chicken wafted
toward him, making his tongue water. As Roderick said, the family was
gathered around the hearth in their usual seating arrangement, and he gladly
accepted his plate from the cook and began to shovel in the food. He was
hardly listening to his family, his mind still back in his workshop, until he
heard his name.
“Adam?” said Finlay. “Are ye paying attention?”
“Of course he’s not!” laughed Peggy. “You know his head is up in the
clouds or in some latest invention, tinkering with a device.”
 She wasn’t far from the truth, but Adam refused to acknowledge the
fact.
“I’m sorry, Finlay, what did you say?”
“Just that Dougal, our lead gillie, has injured himself. His back is afire
again, and I dinna think he’ll be able to lead the hunters who are set to
arrive later this week.”
Adam inwardly groaned. He hated the hunters, the Lowlanders or the
English who came from the south to have a “wild adventure” in what they
felt were the untamed Highlands. He could see the practicalities, and he was
grateful that, to this point, they had been contained to the MacTavish lands,
which had previously been Kyla’s family’s holdings. Since the marriage of
Finlay and Kyla they had amalgamated, but Adam would always hold his
family’s own land dear.
“Have ye told them not to come, then?”
“Of course not,” said Finlay with a frown. “You know I do not enjoy
having them here either, Adam, but the truth is they bring in quite the profit
for our clans. There should be near twenty of them arriving this time from
London.”
“Twenty?” he repeated. “That’s a fair number to take out on a hunt.”
“I dinna believe they should all be hunting, and they are bringing a few
of their own serving men,” said Finlay. “Besides that, I believe there are a
few women accompanying them, who willna be on the hunt.”
“Women?” said Adam, realizing he sounded rather daft, continuing to
repeat his brother’s words. “You canna mean it, Finlay. The Highlands are
no place for fancy Englishwomen. Do you remember the last one that came
up?”
Unfortunately, they all did. She had tripped before she had even left the
yard, turning her ankle in a hole. It was her own fault, Adam felt, for
wearing delicate little slippers in this terrain, and yet she had blamed them
all and cursed the land.
“The Highlands are no place for a woman.”
At that, he had three heads swivel toward him, and he looked up from
his plate to find the eyes of his mother, sister, and Kyla bearing down on
him.
“Oh, not you women,” he said, which only served to cause them to stare
harder at him. “I mean the Englishwomen. The princesses.”
 “They are not all like that,” Peggy said, exasperated with him. “It would
be like saying all the Highland men are large warriors wearing kilts every
day.”
“I like my kilt,” said Adam, with a wink, and his sister rolled his eyes at
him.
“Oh, Adam,” she said. “You’ll never learn.”
“Actually, Adam, you will have to be nice to the fair princesses, for I’m
going to need you to lead the hunt.”
“What?” He jerked his head toward Finlay. “Not again, Fin. Tell me
you’re not serious. Can Roderick not do it?”
“I am serious. The man who is organizing this one, his friend was the
one you led last. He was quite appreciative of your knowledge of the land
and requested that you accompany them. They’ll be staying at Darfield, so
you’ll have Rory’s help, and we’ll send some lads with you as well. It
should be no issue, and they will pay well. After the last time, Roderick will
nae be doing it.”
“What was wrong with my tour?” Roderick piped up.
“You fed them all lies and stories that are simply fables from years
ago!”
“They enjoyed them,” he countered with a shrug.
“Even still. You are only adding to the untrue myths and legends,” said
Finlay, shaking his head. “No, it’s settled. Adam will do it.”
Adam stared broodily at the now-cleaned plate before him and sighed.
His wind energy system would have to be put on hold while he led the
Englishmen around. He cursed aloud, and his mother tapped him on the arm
and eyed him with a look.
His life was many things, he thought, but as much as he wished it, dull
it was not.
 2

R achel Trenton gritted her teeth in frustration as she paced back and
forth in front of her father’s office. She had been here an hour
now, not that it mattered to him. He saw her time as dispensable,
not worth noting. Her father’s business partner, Sullivan Andrews, gave her
a sympathetic smile as he approached her once again.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Rachel?” He had known her since
she was a girl and still called her by the childhood name which her father
felt she was too old for, though she didn’t mind it. She bestowed a warm
smile upon Sullivan, relaying the gratefulness she felt for him. He had
always filled a role her father had refused to play.
“No, thank you, Sullivan,” she said. “My father is the only one that can
answer my question, unfortunately. Tell me, how do you fare today?”
“Just fine,” he said. “Demand for electricity is growing, though
competitors keep rising up. Your father continues to try to coax the
neighborhood businesses off their isolated systems, and it’s slowly
coming.”
Rachel nodded. Her father and Sullivan had begun one of the first
power systems just two years prior. Many had thought them slightly mad
for proposing such an idea, but as more homes continued to add electric
lighting, the demand for a power supply continued to grow. Sullivan had
always been something of an inventor, while her father was a businessman
who knew how to turn on the charm for those he felt required it. She only
wished he would consider her with anything close to the same respect he
did for those he worked with. Instead, he ignored her, unless it was to tell
her what he wanted to eat for dinner.
Sullivan Andrews had long been her father’s closest friend and business
partner in his latest enterprises. They worked well together. He was creative
and intelligent, though somewhat absent-minded, whereas her father was
practical and calculating.
While her father brushed off any questions regarding his work, Sullivan
appreciated the interest Rachel took in business endeavors and fed her
fascination for the way things worked.
“Tell me, Sullivan, why is it again that the hotels and factories prefer
their own power generator?” she asked.
“The exhaust steam from the generation can be used for building and
industrial process heat,” he replied. “It’s less expensive, although whether
that will remain the case is hard to say. The more power plants that open,
the cheaper electricity may become.”
“And—” The question on her tongue was interrupted when the door to
her father’s office opened and the booming voice of Hardwick Trenton rang
out.
“Rachel!” he practically shouted. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to speak with you, Father,” she said. “You told me to wait for
you until you were free. Do you not recall?”
“I — of course I do,” he muttered, waving a hand. “I am busy, Rachel,
you know that. Come in now, then, what is it you wish to speak with me
about?”
She entered his office, the navy blue of her satin skirts trailing behind
her. While she loved the frills, the high bustles and the length of material
trailing behind her in a beautiful evening gown, she also enjoyed the smart,
tailored dresses she wore in her daily life. Today, for example, her dress was
elegant, with just a slight bustle to provide some shaping in the back.
“Father,” she said, walking past him as he held the door open for her.
“Mrs. Graham told me that you are leaving for Scotland in the morning.”
“I am,” he said, skirting around the outside of the desk and taking a seat
in his mahogany captain’s desk chair. “We shall be taking a hunting trip.
Not to worry, Sullivan will stay here to oversee the plant.”
She sat primly on the edge of the guest seat in front of his matching
mahogany desk, holding her velvet chatelaine bag in her lap. “I should like
to go with you,” she said, noting the look of astonishment that crossed his
face.
“Go with me — hunting? In Scotland?” he gave out a bark of laughter.
“I should think not. Whatever gave you such an idea?”
“It is just that, I have heard how very beautiful Scotland is,” she said,
hearing the wistfulness in her tone but knowing it wouldn’t move him, “and
I have never been out of England before. I do not have to hunt with you, of
course, but I would very much like to come and see the countryside.”
“You have seen the English countryside,” he said with a frown.
“Scotland is not altogether that different.”
“There are no mountains in England,” she responded, leaning forward
and looking him directly in his eyes, so very much like the crystal blue of
her own.
“There are not,” he agreed resolutely. “Which makes England safer and
more easily accessible. I see no reason why you should accompany us.”
“Who are you going with?”
“The usual men I hunt with,” he said with a shrug. “And Thompson is
coming along.”
“Vincent?” Rachel repeated, raising her eyebrows. “My, but the two of
you are becoming close.”
“The lad has done well,” her father responded. “In fact, I would very
much like him to take over the company one day.”
“You want Vincent to take over the company?” Rachel was incredulous.
Vincent Thompson may be decent at his job, but he was certainly not the
man who should be leading the charge. Not only was he reckless, but the
intense way he always stared at her caused a feeling of unease to flood her
from her head down to her toes. He looked at her like one did a feast set
before him on the table. “Why would you choose Vincent?”
“He’s young, he’s capable, and he’s hungry,” her father responded.
“Besides, who else would I look to? Andrews is as old as I am, and there is
no one else.”
“What about me?” she asked, her eyes rising to his, though she knew
the answer before the words were even out of her mouth.
“You” He let out a sharp guffaw. “Rachel, whatever would you know
about a power plant? It’s no place for a woman to visit, let alone to work.
Surely you’re joking.”
 “I know plenty,” she said, straightening her spine. “I know your
business model well, having grown up with your multitude of businesses.
And I’ve studied the way electricity works, how it is generated by the
power plant. If you would only teach me—”
He waved his hand in front of her face. “Enough of this nonsense,
Rachel. Thompson!” he called out as a shadow darkened the door. “Come
in here.”
The shadow paused, and seconds later, Vincent’s frame filled the
doorway. He entered the office, raking his gaze over Rachel. He was tall,
blond, and drew many ladies to him with his charming demeanor. Rachel
had never followed suit, however, and instead preferred to stay far from
him. She knew her father envisioned a match between them, and as much as
she tried to dissuade him, he would not let the idea rest.
“Thompson,” her father said, “Rachel is interested in knowing more of
the workings of the company. Could you show her around the plant today?”
“I’ve seen the plant,” Rachel interjected. “Perhaps another time. Father,
will you think on Scotland?”
Her father seemed ready to deny her request, but suddenly looked from
her to Vincent standing at the door, then back at her. “Actually, Rachel,” he
said slowly. “Perhaps ’tis not such a bad idea after all. With both Thompson
and I accompanying you, you should be safe from the wilds of Scotland.
What say you, Thompson, do you believe you can watch out for Rachel if
she were to come on our expedition?”
His eyes lit up as his head swiveled in her direction. “I can watch you
just fine, Rachel,” he said, his lips curling at the corners. “In fact, it would
be my pleasure. While I’m not sure the Highlands are a place for women
such as yourself, I know many a lady who has visited and returned with
fabulous tales to entertain her acquaintances for days to come. I don’t see
the harm in it, so long as you stay close.”
She smiled tersely, hating his words and yet seeing an opportunity. She
turned back to her father. “It is settled then. Thank you, Father, I am looking
forward to it.”
“Of course, daughter,” he said, his eyes flashing. “Of course.”
R ACHEL ’ S HEART beat in anticipation as the train slowly approached them at
London’s King’s Cross Station, where they waited to board. She could
hardly believe that she had the opportunity to leave her stale life in London
for an adventure on the Scottish Highlands. She had heard of the expanse of
green bordered by mountains, the blue skies that went on for miles, and the
hearty people who made their livelihoods tending the fields and the sheep.
She could hardly wait to see it all for herself.
The only unfortunate aspect was the company she would be keeping,
she thought with a sigh as she looked over at her father and Vincent
Thompson. No matter. There were other men on this trip as well, and a few
of them were accompanied by their wives, who would hopefully be pleasant
enough. It was not the first time her father had traveled to the Highlands to
hunt, and after they boarded the train and settled into the dining car, he
seemed willing to tell all who would listen just how much he knew of the
land to the north.
“The women?” he laughed in response to a question from a friend, a
gentleman slightly younger than himself. “The women are ruddy, fair, and
quite willing to entertain gentlemen from the south!”
Rachel cringed. She did not consider anything he was saying to be true.
It was, at the very least, greatly exaggerated. “You must be careful of their
men, however,” her father continued. “The Highlander is quite the physical
specimen. While they do not compare to Englishmen, their strength more
than makes up for anything they lack in intellect.”
Rachel, embarrassed by his attitude, desperately tried to sink into the
upholstered dining chair as she turned toward the window and forced her
thoughts elsewhere, pushing aside her father’s words.
She had not known what to pack for this trip. She and her friend Eloise
had hastily gone shopping yesterday afternoon in order for her to buy a
couple of new dresses that more practical for walking and riding. She had
also bought a pair of boots that she thought would fare far better than the
slippers she mainly enjoyed wearing. The store proprietor was quite
interested in her upcoming travels, though she did not seem to know
entirely how to clothe her for the trip. As a result, Rachel’s traveling bags
were stuffed full to the brim of all sorts of clothing she likely wouldn’t
need. However, it was good to be prepared, she thought as she gazed out the
window at the crush of people milling about, some waving goodbye and
others making their way to the next platform.
 She groaned aloud when Vincent took a seat beside her as the train
slowly began to move. She had hoped he would be preoccupied with her
father and their plans for the hunt, but it seemed he did not quite realize her
disregard for him.
“Rachel, darling,” he said, encroaching onto her seat, making her feel
trapped against the window. “Though I am not sure why a fair, beautiful
woman like yourself would want to come along, rest assured, as I told you
yesterday, I shall revel in your companionship and will take every
opportunity to convince you that we would be the perfect match.”
“Vincent,” she said, turning to him. He had attempted to pursue her
before, and she had tried to gently say no, but perhaps a more direct
approach was required. “Vincent, you know that you are a very handsome
man,” she began, and was not surprised when he nodded at her words. One
thing Vincent was, most assuredly, was confident. “You will make a young
woman very, very happy one day. Unfortunately, that woman is not to be
me. We simply do not suit.”
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together as
his voice grew an edge. “We are perfect for one another. Why, together we
can grow the Trenton Power Company greater than any could have
imagined. It’s what your father wants. It’s what I want. The sooner you
accept this, the better.”
Rachel gritted her teeth. The man truly was insufferable. His opinion of
women was so low it was practically non-existent, and it grated on her that
neither Vincent nor her father took any of her thoughts or opinions into
account. And yet she was expected to be the link between them — her
marriage to Vincent was to bring them all together. When her father had
first invited Vincent to join his company, she had been glad. Vincent was an
old family friend, and she thought perhaps he would take the role of the son
that her father had never had, and had certainly never considered her filling.
But before long it became clear that Vincent was not only incompetent, he
was damaging the company with his ridiculous ideas and the fact that no
man wished to work for him.
She knew Sullivan could hardly stand it, and yet as her father was the
majority shareholder, Sullivan kept silent, content as long as he was left to
his work.
“Vincent, I happen to be feeling rather tired at the moment,” she said,
which was not entirely untrue. She had certainly wearied of speaking with
him. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to find my way to my car.”
“If that’s what you would prefer,” he said, though his eyes somewhat
darkened as if to tell her that this conversation was not yet finished.
“I do,” she said, and slipped out of the car back to her own small
quarters as quickly as possible. She lay her head down on the narrow cot,
closing her eyes. And, it seemed, perhaps she was more tired than she had
thought, for soon enough she was fast asleep, her mind filled with dreams
of forests, mountains, and freedom unlike any she had ever imagined.
 3

R achel managed to keep to herself for the remainder of the journey

by simply not spending much time outside her sleeping car, which
was awfully dull. She became rather used to the background chug-
chug-chugging of the train’s engine, soothing her as she slept. When the
noise dimmed, she woke with a start. They must be reaching the Perth
station, she thought. As she emerged from her cabin, she dazedly looked
around her, finding that she was, at the very least, mercifully alone, with
Vincent nowhere in sight. She made her way off the train, looking for her
father. Apparently, he hadn’t deemed her important enough to wait for. She
sighed.
It was past the breakfast hour, and Rachel wondered if she had slept
through the meal on the train, or if it had not yet been served. Either way,
she hoped it was available on the next train, which was to take them to
Inverness, nearly all the way to their destination.
She wound her way through the other passengers coming and going
from one train to another, finally finding the Highland Railway. Truly,
would it have been so difficult for her father to wait for her? She boarded
the train, seeing him and Vincent sitting across from one another at a table
in the dining car, playing cards. Her father said nothing as she walked by,
though Vincent gave her a wink that made her cringe. She found her own
sleeping cabin, where she settled herself before finding the other ladies,
determined she would enjoy herself for the rest of the journey.
T HAT WAS EXACTLY what she did. She finally did have lunch, settling her
grumbling stomach. She took out the embroidery she had brought with her
to help pass the time and worked away while chatting with the other
women. She wasn’t particularly talented, but enjoyed it as a way to keep her
fingers busy. Everything around her was forgotten and her conversation
died, however, when the Scottish Highlands began to make their appearance
through the window.
She was in awe of the beauty that lay before her. Rolling green land,
backdropped by mountains that seemed nearly transparent in the mist that
surrounded them, was on full display. Streams of water descending into
small lakes appeared as the train rolled by, and white balls of sheep dotted
much of the land.
Rachel had seen the English countryside before, of course, and had
heard stories and seen paintings of Scotland, but she had never imagined it
would look anything like this.
When they disembarked at Inverness, carriages with horses awaited
them, which would take them to Aldourie, close to where they were staying.
They were not nearly, of course, as fine as the carriages she may have
typically ridden in through the streets of London, but as worn as the seats
were in places, they were comfortable.
She pushed aside the window curtain as they rolled over the bumpy cart
paths and drove deeper into the Highlands. The acres of green hills rolling
down into a shining lake below took her breath away. The lake was long,
wide, and the full moon cut a swath through the gathering darkness of night,
as if lighting a path across the lake to the castle that rose above it on the
other side. It was magic, the showcase of all of God’s blessed work in one
place. It made Rachel’s heart soar, and a wide smile broke out on her face.
They rolled up to a large stone building, not quite a castle but certainly
impressive nonetheless. The man who emerged from the front doors to greet
them was handsome, dressed in a short kilt and a white shirt. He looked
very much the Highland man she had heard of, his long sandy blond hair
flowing in the breeze. As he approached with a candle in hand to light the
way in front of him, a wide grin of welcome crossed his face.
“Good evening ladies, gentlemen,” he said, reaching out a hand to help
the women out of the carriages that had pulled up in front of him.
“Welcome to Darfield Keep, my home, and yours for the next several days.
I’m pleased to meet you. Rory MacTavish, at your service.” He gave an
extravagant bow.
Her father blustered by the man, looking around him. “You are the only
one to welcome us?” he asked.
“I do have several servants to help you with your belongings,” answered
the man. “They will be out momentarily. Now come, follow me and I shall
see you settled in your rooms.”
He led them into a great hall where, as promised, a few servants awaited
them, including a plump, older woman who Rachel assumed to be a
housekeeper of sorts. As Rachel was the only single woman, she was led to
a decidedly feminine room, complete with beautiful white curtains over the
window and around the bed, which was bordered by a warm fur rug.
“This room was Kyla’s,” the woman told her. “She’d be Rory’s sister,
now married to one of the McDougall lads from the next property over.
Though I s’pose I shoudna call him a lad anymore.” The woman laughed.
“Anyway, ye shall be quite comfortable here. Should you need anything at
all, just holler for me. My name’s Agnes. We’ll be havin’ a meal set out
shortly, or if you’d prefer a tray, ye just tell me.”
Rachel nodded and lay her traveling bags down on the floor next to the
bed, having decided to carry them herself when no one else had offered.
She was tired, though she wouldn’t mind some company for the meal. She
told Agnes she would come down to eat, to which the woman told her to
join them at any time.
“Then tomorrow, I’m told there’s a hike planned ye’re welcome to join,
should you like,” the woman added.
“I would so love to hike,” said Rachel with a smile. “Thank you,
Agnes.”
“Ye’re very welcome, child,” she said as she left, shutting the door
behind her.
“Child,” the woman had called her. Of course, she was young in
comparison to the woman, but the description did somewhat bother Rachel.
She had always looked rather young for her age, which meant she was often
not taken seriously. No matter, she resolved. She was here in Scotland, and
meant to enjoy herself and all that this land had to offer for the reprieve of
time she had been afforded, even if it came with the caveat of having to deal
with Vincent.
W HEN THE SUN shone in through the slit of the heavy curtains covering his
bedroom window the next morning, Adam turned over with a groan. There
were many activities he would have found enjoyable today, and not one of
them included leading a group of Englishmen on a hike through the hills —
his hills. He looked over to the solid oak saddle seat chair next to his bed,
upon which his kilt was laid out. Finlay and Kyla had told him he must be
prepared to look the strong Scottish Highlander the English were
anticipating. The men had paid good money for their expectations, and the
family wanted continued referrals for more English tourists to return.
Adam understood, but he wasn’t particularly pleased.
He donned his garb, which, he had to admit, was not overly different
from what he wore on a typical day. He simply added his jacket over his
white shirt. He descended the stairs to the great hall for breakfast, where his
mother and father sat at the table awaiting him.
“Good morning, son,” his father said from his place at the head of the
table. Duncan McDougall was a big man, who expected much from his
sons. He was gruff and feared by others, and yet his children knew the
warm side of him. His mother was loved by all, and she gave him a warm
smile as he sat down.
“I know you do not enjoy this, Adam,” she said, looking at him with
somewhat worried eyes. “But we love you for it. We can always rely on
you, and that means so much to all of us.”
He nodded and began shoveling in his breakfast. When he was finished,
he asked the cook to prepare a lunch to take with him. It would be a long
day ahead.

R ACHEL DRESSED in her favorite walking gown, one without a bustle or a

train and made of fairly light fabric for the midday walk. She looked
through the armoire where she had hung her clothes the previous night and
decided to take her parasol as well as a bonnet to keep the sun off her face.
It was a pretty bonnet, one she had bought the day before leaving London,
when it had caught her eye in one of her favorite shops.
 When she descended the stairs for breakfast, she felt her cheeks warm
as many eyes turned toward her — the twenty or so from her own party, as
well as the Scots who were serving breakfast. She sat next to two of the
women she had befriended on the train. Neither were planning on attending
the hike, though women were invited to join in this particular outing.
“Is something amiss with my appearance?” she asked, looking around
self-consciously.
“You look lovely, dear,” said the first woman, Mrs. Taylor. “Though
certainly different than the other woman of these parts.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.
“She means that women of the Highlands do not have the same access,
nor interest, in fashion as those of us from London,” said the second
woman, Lady Chadwick. Her husband was a baron, who adored hunting. It
was now Lady Chadwick’s third visit to the Highlands. Mrs. Taylor had told
Rachel in a private conversation that she felt it was not so much that Lady
Chadwick wished to see Scotland, but that she traveled with her husband
due to the fact she did not want him to be alone anywhere there were other
women.
Rachel did not respond to Lady Chadwick’s words regarding the
Highland women. She found her rather snobbish, and instead concentrated
on the bowl of oats that had been placed in front of her. For as terrible as
they looked, they were actually rather tasty, and she surprised herself by
finishing her bowl before the Scot — Rory, she believed his name was —
called for all who would be joining in the hike to meet him in the yard of
the keep.
Her father caught her arm as she made for the door.
“You cannot think to be joining us, Rachel,” he said as he released his
tight grip.
“Of course I am,” she replied. “Why ever not? I have come all this way.
I should like to actually see this place I am visiting.”
He looked her up and down, as if assessing her physical readiness for
such an adventure. “Fine,” he said through tight lips. “But stay with
Thompson. He will ensure your safety.”
“Vincent? No, thank you. I would prefer not go at all,” she said, looking
away from him.
“Fine then, let that be your choice,” he said with a shrug, turning his
thick back away from her so that all she could see was his jowled cheek.
 She let out a very unladylike snort before following him outside,
attempting to stay far out of his sight, though she could see him speaking to
Vincent from where she stood. Why her father was pushing Vincent on her
so heavily, she could not understand. Yes, she knew he wanted the man to
succeed him in the business one day, and it would make sense to keep him
in the family. But surely he could see the man cared for nothing but himself.
Well, she would worry about that later. For now, though—
Before she could finish the thought, another man stepped in front of the
group. One who took her thoughts – and her breath – away for a moment.
He looked like a fierce Scottish Highland warrior of days long past, she
thought as her eyes ran over him. She had never seen a man so… so…
undeniably attractive. He held himself tall and proud, his jacket tight over
his chest above the kilt that swirled around his legs. Rachel never realized a
man wearing a skirt could be so utterly masculine. It was actually quite
puzzling.
He had apparently just dismounted his horse and was now tying the
beautiful chestnut to the fence post beside him as his dark eyes scanned the
lot of them, his mouth set in a grim line. He looked suitably unimpressed,
and Rachel could see why. The sun, which had begun climbing in the sky,
silhouetted him from behind, and while he was not quite as broad as the
blond Highlander standing next to him, she knew he would be, at the very
least, a foot taller than her own small frame, and certainly more of a man
than any of her father’s acquaintances that surrounded him. His face had a
serious countenance as he said something quietly to Rory, who then began
speaking, but for the life of her she couldn’t listen to a word Rory said as
she continued to stare at the new arrival.
“I’d like to introduce you all to Adam McDougall,” Rory called out to
them. “As many of you have heard, he is an excellent guide and knows this
area well. Adam is well versed in all of the wildlife ye will find before you
throughout your journey. Listen well to him, and he will not steer you
astray. Enjoy the exploration today, before the real game begins tomorrow!”
Rory stepped away to find his own mount, leaving the group to Adam.
He nodded at them all. “Thank ye for coming and for having me to be your
guide. I heard I was requested, and feel very…” his cheek twitched,
“fortunate.”
Rachel didn’t think he looked particularly pleased with the situation, but
no matter.
 “Rory and I will lead our horses in case we should require them, but
please, follow with us, and do not touch anything you are unsure of.”
His eyes scanned the crowd, as if searching them out to see if there
would be any issues. Rachel swallowed as they landed on her. She waited
for them to move on, but they did not. He had captured her in his gaze, and
it seemed he was not letting go.
 4

A dam stood in front of the unlikely group. Today a hike, tomorrow

a hunt. His eyes raked over the crowd of Englishmen. Some were
lean, some were rather paunchy, but none looked particularly
prepared for this hike. Then suddenly his gaze stopped on another figure.
One that wouldn’t fit into any crowd here on the Highlands.
He scanned the woman from the toes of her clean, black leather boots
up the beautiful, delicate gown to the top of the silly white bonnet that sat
on the top of her head. Forgetting the rest of the assembled group, he strode
over, and looked down at the woman, who, he now realized, was a tiny
thing, shorter than most women and quite slight.
“You are not coming with us.” He spoke affirmatively, providing her no
room with which to argue, and yet she spoke back to him.
“Of course I am,” she said, her nose in the air. “And you have no right
to tell me not to.”
“I do have a right,” he responded. “The safety of all of these people lies
with me, and if I have to spend my time addressing the numerous tiny
concerns ye cook up, they will not have their guide.”
“How dare you?” Her deep blue eyes, the color of Loch Ness, flashed at
him. “I will not trouble you in the least with my concerns, I assure you, no
more than any man here.”
“No?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “What happens when you
become too hot? Too hungry? Too thirsty? Too tired? What will you do?”
“I shall do what any person would do, and that is tend to my
requirements, or wait until such time that it is appropriate to do so. I assure
you, sir, that you will not have to worry about me.”
“What seems to be the issue?” came a voice from behind him, and
Adam turned to find a man near as tall as himself, with dark blond hair and
an air of haughtiness as he managed to look at Adam from overtop his nose.
“’Tis nothing, Vincent,” said the girl with a wave of her hand. “Thank
you for your concern.”
“Are you harassing my fiancée?”
“Fiancée! Vincent, I should hardly think that we are—”
“You will leave her be,” the Englishman continued, “or you shall have
me to answer to. You do continue to enjoy the revenue we bring you, do
you not?”
Adam gritted his teeth. This was why he had not wanted to lead today’s
hike, or any event including men like this one.
“Be careful, lass, that is all,” he said, stepping backward. He was about
to turn away, but had one final question. “I must ask you — what in the
devil is on your head?”
“My bonnet!” she replied, indignation flashing in her eyes. “What else
would it be?”
“I certainly have never seen the likes of it,” he said in all honesty. “I’m
nae sure what you expect it to do, but it certainly willna keep the insects
and the sun away.”
“I thank you for your concern,” she said in a tone that made it clear she
did not appreciate the sentiment. “However, despite your opinion, I will
wear this, and would ask you not to cause a scene, sir.”
“As you wish,” he said, finally stepping away, though he glanced back a
few times to see her refuse the help of the Englishman who had called her
his betrothed. Adam shook his head as he untied his horse and walked to the
front of the pack. The English.

T RUE TO HER WORD , the girl — or young woman, he couldn’t be sure of her
age — kept up with the men she accompanied, though it was clear she was
unused to such physical activity. Perhaps some Englishwomen would be
more physical on a country estate, he thought, but certainly nothing like the
women in the Highlands, who spent every moment of their day caring for
their home or their family.
He tried not to turn around and watch her but couldn’t help himself. Her
hair had loosened and stuck to the side of her face as she perspired on her
way up the grassy hill. The ridiculous piece of fabric she had been wearing
on her head was now bouncing around her shoulders, and her cheeks were
flushed from the rising sun. Yet she was still faring better than some of the
older men of the group, and he begrudgingly admired her resolve to utter no
word of complaint.
He wasn’t taking the group far. He would simply provide them with a
view of where they would spend the next few days hunting and show them
the lay of the land. As they neared the top of the hill, they came to the one
outcropping that was slightly more treacherous than the rest. He called out
to the rest of them in a warning, and he watched her begin to pick her way
over it. She had nearly scaled it when her foot slipped, the slick sole of her
leather boot not providing her with enough traction. Her skirts, though not
as voluminous as some he had seen the English wear, became tangled
between her legs and she went down with a thud.
Adam scrambled down the hill back to her, but when he finally reached
her and stretched out a hand to help her, she had already righted herself and
waved away his help.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I thank you, however.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he said gruffly. “I am simply doing my job.”
He looked up to see the man she called Vincent was far ahead, having
left her behind as he made his own way up the hill. Adam nodded to her
then left as he resumed his place at the front of the group. They would make
one more stop before they returned to Darfield — the village where most of
the crofters lived. It was part of the “experience” they provided, although he
hated taking the English there. He could see the disdain in their eyes as they
looked at the crofters as a species less than themselves. He trained his eyes
over the loch — his loch. A few more days, he told himself, then they
would all be gone. He could hardly wait.
R ACHEL WAS MISERABLE . The man had been right when he said she should
stay behind, though she would not give him the pleasure of knowing such
information. It would have been much better had she been truly prepared
and dressed for the excursion, although she had enjoyed all that there was to
see, particularly now that they had made it to the crest of the hill.
As the dashing, yet so utterly rude, Scot led them down the hill, he took
them onto a path that he said would finish in a village of sorts, and her
spirits immediately lifted. She appreciated the opportunity to meet new
people, and perhaps those in the village would be much less surly than this
man. Mayhap more like Rory MacTavish. He seemed friendly enough, with
his wide grin and easygoing manner.
They neared the small cottages that belonged to the people the
McDougall man called “crofters.” She could hardly believe how tiny the
homes were, and as they came to the first, she saw sitting out front was a
woman with a whole brood of children. Surely they didn’t all live in this
tiny home?
“Molly!” Adam called out, embracing the woman after she rose, giving
her a kiss on the cheek. “Looking wonderful as always. And how are the
children today?”
“They are doing well, Adam, thank you.”
Rachel smiled at the woman, until she started hearing the mutterings of
the men around her. “I thought we might see a pretty face or two out here,”
said one man, the son of one of her father’s acquaintances. “That certainly
is not the case!”
“No,” chortled another. “Good God, what is this place? These people
live like heathens!”
It did seem they were cooking their dinner on a fire spit out front of the
home, but Rachel could see the contentment on the faces of the people.
They didn’t live in one of London’s finer homes, no, but did that mean they
were any less than she? She lived in a London manor with her father, and
that certainly had not led to her own happiness.
A man rounded the corner then, one who was in a kilt of his own; and
though it was considerably more worn than the one Adam had on, it had the
same pattern upon it.
“Adam!” he called out. “How do ye fare?”
“Just fine, Jack,” he said. “We have visitors from London with us today.
They will be hunting tomorrow.”
 The smile left the man’s face as he gave them a nod, then turned back
toward the cottage. “Come, Molly,” he said. “Take the children inside.”
“No manners out here, then?” called out Vincent. “Is this how you
welcome visitors, man?”
The Highlander said nothing as he turned his back to them, ushering his
family into the house.
“Well, I never,” Rachel’s father said. “Heathens, all of them. These
would be the sheepherders, then, McDougall? That would make sense then.
They cannot properly know how to speak to other humans when they’re
with the beasts all day. This has been quite entertaining, McDougall, but I
think it’s time we be returning.”
Adam nodded, his jaw tight and the tick in his cheek back. The heat of
embarrassment seared Rachel’s cheeks even hotter than they had been from
her exertion. She could see Adam’s shoulders tense as if he were holding in
the words he longed to exchange with the men.
She stepped forward. “I — I think the village is rather quaint,” she said
hesitantly. “Thank you for the tour. It was lovely.”
He looked at her with so much disdain in his face that she took a step
backward as if he had spoken words of fury.
“Lovely,” he repeated the word with disbelief, as though questioning
her motives. “You are right, Trenton. We should go.”
He left them for a moment, opening the door of the cottage to say
something to the family inside before returning, silently leading the way
ahead, his strong back tall and proud. Rachel could only hang her head and
follow along. She should never have said anything, she thought. She had
only made it worse.
 5

A dam paced in front of the long oak dining table at Galbury Castle,
where his family had gathered for the evening meal. He was too
agitated to eat, however, after his day with the English. This lot
was even worse than the typical travelers.
“I am finished. I refuse to lead them tomorrow,” he said, his mouth in a
set line. Finlay looked somewhat defeated, having been the one to agree to
this, while the rest of them looked sympathetic, though all were at a loss.
“It canna be that bad, Adam, can it?” asked Kyla.
“It must be, for Adam to be complainin’,” Peggy answered for him.
“He’s usually the most level-headed of all of you.”
“That’s not fair, Peg,” said Roderick with a grin. “Give your brothers a
bit more credit than that.”
She rolled her eyes at him, and Adam sat down heavily. Clearly, his
family did not understand the extent to which the tourists were affecting
their people.
“They were rude to Molly and Jack and the family.”
“What?” Finlay’s head snapped around at that.
“They made comments that were not for the ears of women, let alone
Molly herself,” he said softly. “I canna abide by that.”
“No, we cannot,” Kyla said strongly. “I’ll see to it. This was my doing,
bringing them here originally.”
“Kyla—” Finlay began.
“I will come with you tomorrow, Adam,” she said, cutting off her
husband. “Should any of them have any additional comments, they shall
leave, and they can take their coin with them. It’s not worth it.”
Duncan nodded his approval from the head of the table.
“We invite them here to keep our people fed,” he said. “But if their
spirit is broken, none of that matters anymore.”
They all soberly returned to their meals, reflecting on what was to come
the next day.

A S IT TURNED OUT , Adam was accompanied by not only Kyla but Finlay as
well for the day ahead, and he appreciated how seriously they were taking
the threat these English posed. It was not quite like the days of old when
they had fought for their land, as their country was now well under English
rule, but what they held onto was their pride and their identity as
Highlanders, and they would let no one, not even those who paid for use of
their lands, take that away.
Today they had all dressed in their McDougall tartan, not to please the
tourists, but rather to hold true to who they were. They rode up to Darfield
Keep, the three of them abreast. When they arrived, Rory had already
assembled the English in the yard, all of them now mounted and ready to
depart. Kyla greeted her brother, and they stood a united front, as if ready to
do battle.
“You are all in for a great treat today,” said Rory to the men before him.
“For my sister will be one of your guides. She is well renowned for her
prowess on a horse, by men and women alike, and knows the MacTavish
lands better than any. Now come, follow us to the gaming section of the
property. We would ask that you please only hunt within those fenced
confines, and stay together to keep from shooting one another.”
Trenton, a portly man with the huge jowls, seemed to lead the travelers.
He rode forward to join them as they left the yard.
“I have a favor to ask,” he said, sidling his horse in between Adam and
Finlay. “I have promised these men a fine hunt today — it is why they
accompanied me on this journey. You will ensure that the hunt is successful,
will you not?”
“I’m not sure what ye mean by that,” said Adam, feigning ignorance.
“The success of the hunt depends on the skill of your men and a good bit of
luck.”
“Yes, but you can assist in the luck bit of it, can you not?”
“No,” Finlay answered frostily, “We cannot.”
“I think he means stalking,” Rory said in Adam’s ear from his other
side. “You know, herding all the animals in toward them so they have ample
game to shoot?”
“I know what he is referring to,” Adam said to Rory through gritted
teeth so the abominable man couldn’t hear. “We just don’t agree with it,
which ye well know. Hunting is a sport between man and beast. It’s
cheating to tip the scales in favor of one over the other.”
“Well, they did pay for it—”
“No,” Adam said, shaking his head. They had discussed this before,
when previous groups had visited and requested the same. Finlay and Kyla
had been adamant that it would never be done on their land, and Adam
agreed with them.
The man wasn’t pleased, but Rory soon placated him.
“Not to worry, Trenton,” he said. “There is plenty of game in these
woodlands, and your men will be well pleased, as many have been before
you. You shall see in due time.”
“There had better be,” he said with a sideways glare. “It was what I was
promised when deciding to come up here. If not for the game, there is not
much draw to this land, you do know that?”
They didn’t respond and the man reined in his horse to join his
acquaintances behind them. As Adam turned to watch him go, he caught a
glimpse of color in the back of the group of about ten men riding with them.
It was an unusual color for a gentleman’s cloak, a blue that blended with the
sky behind. He eased back from his family to get a better look and cursed
when he saw the face of the wearer.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to them. “Continue on.”
“What’s wrong?” Finlay asked, concerned.
“It’s the girl,” he responded. “It seems she has joined us. I’ll not have
her cause danger for the group, nor for herself. I’ll accompany her back to
Darfield and meet you at the outskirts of the woods.”
“She can stay,” Kyla argued. “For what reason should a woman not
join? I have accompanied you on many a hunt.”
“’Tis different,” said Adam. “This one’s not like you.”
 “And what do you mean by that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow nearly
up to the line of her blonde hair.
“I only mean that she’s a delicate kind, not used to any sort of physical
exertion. She only just completed the hike yesterday.”
“Yet she managed to bring herself to join us today,” said Kyla with a
shrug. “In addition, she’s on horseback. She’ll be fine.”
“I’m not sure,” he hedged, but Kyla gave him a look that told him not to
argue with her. He sighed and turned to look behind him. At the very least,
the girl was keeping up — so far.
“Fine, but I will have a word with her,” he said.
“Be nice,” she replied.
“Who do you think I am, Finlay?” he said with a wink as he rode away.

R ACHEL FELT exhilaration course through her as her horse caught up with
the hunters in front of her. Upon descending the stairs for breakfast that
morning, she had seen the men file out of the hall to claim mounts for the
hunt. One look below at the women remaining at the table, and the thought
of joining them all day for the most dull and dreary conversation filled her
with dread. She had decided at the last instant to join in the hunt, and one of
the stable hands had helped her find a horse shortly after the rest of them
left. True, her horse might not be as strong or as swift as the rest of them,
having been one of the last remaining, but it was steady and sure, and she
felt they would get along just fine.
She did have to admit that her body was stiff and sore from the physical
exertion the day before, which she was quite unused to. And yet, it made
her feel like she had accomplished something, had actually put herself to
some use, even if it was simply exploring. If there was anything that really
smarted and had kept her awake the night before, it was the shame that
filled her thinking of the words her father and his acquaintances had spoken
regarding the Highlanders. What must they think of them? she thought. It
certainly brought a bad name to the English, and she was determined to do
all she could to make amends.
When her horse joined the hunting party, she tried to remain as far
behind as possible, out of sight from her father, from Vincent, and from the
McDougall Highlander who had shown such disdain for them the day
before. She did not want to be discovered until they were well away from
the keep, too far away for her to be sent back.
Despite her concern at being caught, she was amazed by the landscapes
that surrounded her. She had been awestruck by the views yesterday on
their hike, and today was no different. The beauty of the rolling green hills
was apparent, and she was fascinated by how the landscape changed as they
rode, from the cliffs near the lake to the green of the woodland they were
fast approaching.
The day was hot once again, but they had left early enough that they
would be well shaded by the trees once the sun reached its peak.
So intent was she on her surroundings that she gave out a squeal of
surprise when she heard a voice suddenly in her ear.
“What do you think you are doing?” the deep, steady voice asked her,
and she turned to find her eyes met by the dark stare of the man from
yesterday — Adam, as she recalled.
“I am joining the hunt,” she said, trying to seem as if she belonged.
“Do you really think that is wise?” he asked. “These men all have guns.
You could very easily get yourself shot and killed.”
“I do hope you realize I am smarter than that,” she said with an eye roll.
“What do you take me for? I shall stay with the rest of the hunting party, not
to worry. I will not even wield a weapon of my own. Rather, I came for the
entertainment.”
“I see,” he said, though it didn’t look like he actually did understand
what she was telling him. “Stay within the trees and close to the group once
we start to hunt. Dinna get too close to the open air or you may blend in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dress — ’tis the color of the sky.”
“How romantic of you,” she said, breaking into a wide grin, seeing an
opening to have him warm up to her slightly. “Have you always such a way
with words?”
He sighed as he eyed her. “Did you bring any attire with you rather than
these extravagant dresses?”
“I shall have you know these are some of the finest walking and riding
dresses London has to offer,” she said.
He snorted as he shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say, lass. Now,
you will be careful?”
 “I will,” she agreed, and as he rode away to take over the lead of the
party, she felt rather lonely once more.
 6

A dam nearly forgot about the girl as he led the party into the
woodlands. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he was rooting for the men
to find their game, or for the animals of the woods to avoid these
English. The tourists usually liked to take home their prime catches and
mount them on their walls, which was such a waste. At least they would
usually leave parts of the bodies behind, allowing them to be used in meats
and stews and the like.
Fortune turned out to be kind to the Englishmen and sent plenty of game
toward them; however the skill of these men left a lot to be desired. When
they continually missed, they became surly and seemed to blame their
misfortune on their Highland guides. It came to a point when Adam had to
shoot a stag down from a place beyond the trees just to quiet the men,
allowing them to think one of them had been lucky enough to hit their
mark.
He caught sight of the woman a few times, always tight to the back of
the pack, as she had promised from the start of the day. Her dress actually
did stand out among the trees, and he was pleased that she had left that
awful bonnet behind today. When he had spoken with her, he had tried not
to notice that the sun had brought forth freckles to sprout over her nose, and
made the sleek auburn of her hair shine red. He convinced himself that he
also had not noticed the deep blue of her eyes, nor the slight curves that
today’s dress showcased, which he had not seen yesterday on her small
frame. It seemed she was not as young as he had originally thought her to
be.
 He frowned as he realized he had lost his concentration, and looked at
the group around him. As he did every so often, he counted the party once
more, growing somewhat anxious when he realized he counted fifteen when
there should have been sixteen of them, including the Highland guides as
well as the tourists. He counted again and cursed when he realized he was
once again short.
“Finlay!” he called out to his brother. “We’re missing someone.”
His brother turned to him, a look of concern on his face. “How can that
be? We haven’t moved location for quite some time.”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ve counted a few times, however, and ’tis the
same.”
His brother frowned, calling Rory over. Rory knew the men better than
them, as their host at Darfield Keep.
“Do you notice anyone missing?” he asked, and Rory’s gaze roamed
over the group.
“Thompson,” he said finally.
“Thompson?”
“The tall fair-haired one who enjoys voicing his opinion,” Rory said
wryly.
Ah. The girl’s fiancé. Or not her fiancé. Not that it mattered. “Where
could he have gone off to?”
“Hopefully just to relieve himself,” he said. “We’ll have the rest of them
halt shooting until we can locate him.”
Adam nodded and went round to help inform them. The girl eyed him
with contempt as she waited demurely on her horse near the edge of the
clearing in the forest.
Suddenly she jumped, just as Adam heard a shot ring out. “What in the
name of…” A shot came again, and seconds following it, time seemed to
slow as Rachel screamed and slowly slid from her horse.

R ACHEL HAD NEVER FELT pain like this before. She lay on the ground curled
up as she reached a hand to her calf, which felt like it was on fire. She saw
red liquid seeping out on the grass and crushed leaves around her and
realized belatedly it was her own blood flowing from her injured leg. Her
mind, hazy now, finally connected the sounds she had heard moments
before with the injury, and she realized with a shock she had been shot.
How could that be? She had been with the group the entire time, had
been so careful not to raise the ire of the man who hadn’t wanted her to
come…. She groaned. He had said she would hold them back. He had said
she would be injured. He had said she wasn’t fit for this hunt. Now he had
been proven right.
As the pain began to be replaced by a numbness that slowly spread
through her body, the last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered closed was
his face. His strong, steady face. She tried to lift her hand to reach out to
touch it, to tell him that he had been right and she was sorry she had spoiled
the day for everyone, but before she could say a word, her eyes rolled back
in her head and she fell unconscious.

“R ACHEL ! What did you do to her? Is she alive?” The large, portly Trenton
had dismounted from his horse and trundled toward where Adam knelt
beside the girl, assessing whether there was any significant damage to her
person. “This is all your fault, man. Is it not your job to keep watch on all of
us, to ensure all in the group are looked after and kept from harm? Why
would you allow my daughter to even come with us on this hunt?”
“Is she not your responsibility?” Adam angrily retorted, but gave the
man no more thought as he turned back to the woman — Rachel, Trenton
had called her — lying prostrate in front of him.
He had seen her eyes roll back in her head, and he considered it a
blessing that her body had ensured she be without pain for some time, as he
quickly moved to her leg to determine how badly she had been hurt. He had
no thought of propriety as he lifted the hem of her dress and eased the
stocking down off of her calf. It seemed the bullet was lodged inside the
muscle, and she was bleeding fairly profusely. The biggest danger, he
thought as he ripped a piece of fabric from his plaid and wound it round her
leg to slow the bleeding, was that infection could set in from the bullet if
they didn’t remove it in time. Even then, there was a risk.
“Take her to Galbury,” Kyla said urgently from behind him. “We’re
much closer to the castle than to Darfield, and your mother is there. She’ll
know what to do. Go quickly, and we will meet up with you in due time.”
He looked back at her with a nod and lifted the woman as gently as he
could. He was briskly walking to his horse when her father, who had stood
over him as he tended to the wound, stepped his bulky frame in front of
him.
“Where do you think you are taking my daughter?” he asked, his brows
drawn in a line.
“To help her,” responded Adam with gritted teeth. “Unless, sir, you
happen to oppose that?”
“Nothing unseemly, you hear me?” the man said, though he didn’t deny
Adam from taking action. “Rachel must be in untarnished condition for her
marriage to a respectable gentleman like Thompson here. In fact, perhaps
Thompson should be the one to convey her to the healer. Yes. I think that
would be best. Thompson — Thompson?”
As if he had heard his name being called, the man broke through the
trees, reining in his horse from the quick trot he was at, with a triumphant
look on his face.
“I got it! By Jove, I hit the damn thing! Come see this stag, he’s a
beauty. I’ve been tracking him all — whatever is the matter? Is something
wrong with Rachel? Has she fainted?”
Nearly at his horse, Adam stood stiff straight. Had he not been carrying
the girl, he likely would have hit the man across the jaw right there, in the
midst of all of them.
“You,” he said through gritted teeth. “It was you, wasn’t it? You found
something you liked, and instead of informing the group and allowing us to
hunt it together, you went off on your own. That’s why she was shot —
because of your own damn selfishness!”
“Now see here, I — she — Rachel was shot?”
“Aye,” responded Adam. “And I believe I now know how this
happened. No matter. I shall deal with ye later but at present, we must have
her returned to Galbury. Fin?”
Finlay nodded and came round the side of the horse next to Adam,
taking Rachel in his arms as Adam mounted, then lifted her up to him.
Adam shifted her body so that she was leaning against him and he could
therefore keep her from sliding off the horse, one strong arm holding her
tight against him while the other took both reins in his hands. “Home,
Sloane,” he said to his horse, as they headed back to Galbury as fast as they
could without too badly jostling Rachel off the seat.
It was a tortuous ride, and never had it seemed so long before. It was
ages before he finally rode into the yard, where he was quickly greeted by
one of the grooms, whose face turned grave when he saw the woman in
front of him on Sloane. He helped both of them dismount, and Adam took
her back from the man to carry her into the house, ignoring the strangely
possessive feeling that settled over him when he saw her in another man’s
arms.
When he pushed open the strong wooden doors of the front of the
castle, he called out for his mother, and she soon appeared at the urgency in
his voice.
“Adam, whatever is the matter? Are you not out hunt— Oh, dear!”
She came rushing down the stairs, meeting him at the door. “What has
happened? Take her upstairs,” she said, taking control of the situation, as
she always did when it came to moments of crisis.
As Adam hurried up the stairs with the woman, he could hear his
mother calling to the cook, asking for help in gathering rags and materials
she would need. He knew she would be in shortly with her bag of dried
herbs and tools she’d used so often when they were children, tending to
everything from a scrape on the knee to a broken bone from falling out of
the tree in the yard.
Not thinking of where he was going, his feet took him to his own
chamber, and he set the girl down on his wide bed. His mother came in and
shooed him out of the way as she took a closer look. Adam stepped back
and looked around the room, realizing how out of place she looked in his
dark, masculine room. The heavy, navy blue drapes were still drawn, and
his mother directed him to open them to allow the sunshine in so she could
better see to her work. He pushed them back, feeling secure in the
knowledge that his mother would know what to do. He stood near the door,
waiting for any direction from her, to fetch anything she required or offer
another set of hands if needed.
She had the cook steam her needles, a practice she said would keep
infection from settling in. After taking a good look at the wound, she called
to him, having him hold the girl’s slight leg steady while she took her tools
in to fetch the bullet out. He looked down at the slender calf, so small in his
long fingers, and realized how delicate she was. His gaze moved to her
face, her long lashes lying on her soft cheeks, her brow furrowed, tense
even in the forced sleep.
“I’ve got it,” Jane said, her long needle deep within the leg, blood
coming with it as she pulled it out. “Here you are, Adam. Now, hand me my
bag, will you? I must clean this out rather well.”
He nodded and helped her as she washed the wound and packed a paste
of herbs overtop it. When they had finished, he draped a spare plaid overtop
of Rachel. He sat down in the chair beside the bed to keep watch, but his
mother had other ideas. “You wouldn’t want to be accused of anything
improper, son,” she said, giving him a bit of a look as if she questioned his
thoughts regarding the woman. “Out with you, now. You know her family
will be here soon enough, and you will have to keep them at bay. They may
visit, but she shouldn’t move for a few days until she gains some strength
back. Not to worry, she’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, Mother,” he said, though what he was thanking her for —
her work, her words, or her understanding — he didn’t know. He turned and
started down the stairs, ignoring the unease that had begun to form in the pit
of his stomach.
 7

W hen Rachel woke, she blinked her eyes rapidly and tried not to
panic as she had no idea where she was. All she could see
were walls the color of midnight and oak furniture that had
clearly been handcrafted with care sprinkled around the bedroom.
Then, before she had time to consider her current circumstances any
further, she gasped at the pain that burned from her leg, and it all came
rushing back to her. She must have fainted from the shock, she realized,
feeling foolish at her weakness.
But where had she been taken? This was not her room at Darfield. She
tried to sit up but a cool hand came to her forehead. “Lie still, and you will
be fine,” said the woman, and Rachel turned to take a better look at her. She
was beautiful, with silver lining her dark chestnut hair. Her warm brown
eyes gave Rachel a sense of peace, and she relaxed back into the pillow.
“Where am I?” she asked, as she drew the plaid blanket she was
covered with closer. It smelled of wood and pine, and the scent was
comforting, making her want to burrow even deeper within it.
“You’re at Galbury Castle,” said the woman. “I’m Jane McDougall. I
believe you’ve met my sons, Adam, and Finlay, as well as Finlay’s wife,
Kyla. Adam brought ye here after your injury, and I managed to find the
bullet in yer leg.”
“The bullet…” It all came rushing back to her now and she could hardly
believe what had happened. “Are you a physician of some sort?” she asked,
having trouble believing this motherly woman in front of her had no qualms
about working in her flesh.
 “Nay,” said the woman with a soft laugh. “I wish I had the skill to heal
maladies and illnesses. I can, however, take care of the practicalities of
simple injuries. The Lord knows I have had more than enough practice. You
should recover enough to walk in but a few days. You will just want to rest
that leg a bit. How does it feel?”
Rachel winced, as she had been trying to keep from crying out, though
she realized her breath was coming a bit shorter as she attempted to ignore
the pain.
“It hurts — quite a bit,” she admitted.
“I have something for you. It should numb the pain some, though it will
make you sleepy.” The woman held out a cup, and while it smelled
absolutely awful, Rachel drank it down.
“Is my father here?” she asked, not particularly caring about the answer,
but curious nonetheless.
“Nay,” answered the woman kindly. “Though I am sure he shall be here
any moment now.”
Rachel shrugged. “’Tis no matter. He will come at some point.
Whatever he happens to say to you, though, I was the one who was
determined to join the hunt, and no one could have convinced me
otherwise. It was my fault alone. Please know that?”
She looked up at Jane earnestly, and the woman agreed, though a
strange look came over her features before she quickly masked it.
“Of course, dear,” she said. “Forgive me for asking, but how old are
you?”
“Two-and-twenty,” answered Rachel, knowing what was to come.
“Oh, my dear, I am sorry,” replied Jane, not hiding her surprise. “I had
thought you were younger. No matter. I shall let you know when your father
arrives. Until then, sleep well.”

W HEN R ACHEL AWOKE the next time, the drapes had been closed and all
was dark, though she could sense a presence in the room.
“Hello?” she asked groggily, to which she heard a soft curse.
“I didna think ye would be awake. Pay me no mind, just gathering some
belongings.”
 She sat upright at the rich, low voice that came from the dark corner of
the room, realizing that it was Adam.
“I — I’m sorry, I did not realize — this is your chamber?”
“’Tis.”
“How in the world did I end up here?”
“I carried you after yer injury,” he said, coming out of the shadows and
closer to the side of the bed. “My mother tended to you. She said you
should be well in due time.”
“Yes, she said as such to me as well,” Rachel responded, still somewhat
perplexed at how she had come to be here, and the absurdity of finding
herself in this man’s room.
“Are ye feeling much better?”
“I — yes, I suppose I am.” She must be healing, as she hadn’t much
thought of her leg until he had mentioned it. She gingerly tried to move it to
and fro, wincing as she did so, as the pain gathered at the bullet entry point
and shot up her leg.
“Would you like more of my mother’s concoction for the pain?” he
asked, standing awkwardly next to her as if wanting to stay but unsure of
what to say.
“No, thank you,” she replied. “It would cause me to sleep again, and I
feel I have slept enough for a good while. Can you tell me what happened
— in the woodland?”
He sighed and looked around, then pulled a saddle seat chair from the
corner of the room and removing the plaid lying across the back before
sitting on it next to her. She realized this was all rather improper, the two of
them alone in his bedroom, but at the moment she didn’t much care. She
longed for company, as she was alone so often that any bit of camaraderie
— well, from most people, for she could use less from the likes of Vincent
— was welcomed.
“We were traveling through the woodland on the hunt when I realized
we were short a man,” he said. “As you are aware, we had stopped to
determine who it was, and I realized it was Mr. Thompson. Rory was going
to retrace our path to look for him when two shots rang out. Do you recall
hearing them? Anyway, next thing I knew ye were on the ground. From
what I can gather, Mr. Thompson had seen a stag through the trees and
decided to chase after it on his own. He didn’t realize he had circled around
and was coming upon the hunting party when he shot. He caught you with
his first bullet; the stag with his second.”
Her cheeks flamed in anger as well as embarrassment for the behavior
of their whole company. What these people must think of them, she wasn’t
sure, but it likely was not with much favor.
“I — I’m sorry, Mr. McDougall,” she said, looking down at her hands.
“We have brought you nothing but trouble, and I’m sure you will be glad to
be rid of us.”
“Call me Adam,” he said, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly
upturned in what nearly resembled a smile. “I dinna believe I’ve ever been
called Mr. McDougall in my life.”
“Adam, then,” she said with a small smile of her own. “And please, call
me Rachel. You’ve saved my life, so I suppose we should be on much more
familiar terms.”
“I didna save your life,” he said, shaking his head. “Though my mother
fixed ye up quite nicely. And ye must take it easy or you could find your leg
infected.”
“No matter. You brought me here in good time, and knew what I
needed,” she said, then added more somberly, “Perhaps you were right.
Perhaps I should not have gone on that hunt. I just wanted — needed — to
take in more of this country. This land calls to me, in a strange way.”
“Of course I was right,” he said indignantly, and she tried to stamp
down the ire that rose in her throat. “Though you did as I asked and stayed
with the group. ’Twas that idiot’s fault for taking it upon himself to do as he
pleased and not consider the rest of us. And I willna apologize for speaking
against him. He may be your fiancé but he’s a dolt.”
“He most certainly is not my fiancé,” she said. “My father would wish
it, but I cannot say the same.”
“Then why are you here with the both of them?” He crossed his arms
and leaned back in the chair, and she longed to reach forward and brush
aside the lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
“I wanted to see somewhere besides England,” she said with a shrug. “I
have little to do at home. As interested as I may be in my father’s business,
I am still a woman, and he would prefer to train someone like Vincent —
the dolt — instead.”
“Then yer father’s an idiot as well.”
 As he uttered the words, they heard a banging below them, and then a
loud voice resonating as it carried up the stairs.
“McDougall! Where are you, and what have you done with my
daughter?”
“Bloody hell,” muttered Adam, then rose and strode out of the room
without another word to her, shutting the door firmly behind him.

A S A DAM DESCENDED THE STAIRS , he found Hardwick Trenton standing in

the middle of the great hall, his short stature and soft frame completely out
of place surrounded by Finlay, Roderick, and Duncan. When the man heard
Adam’s footfalls on the stairs, he turned and pointed to him. “You,” he
sputtered, “had better not have been alone with my daughter up there.”
Adam gave the man a tense, forced smile. “Nay, sir, she has been
sleeping off the pain of her injury. Were you lost?”
“What do you mean, was I lost?” the man blustered.
“’Tis been hours since we left you. In fact, night has fallen. Were you
not concerned about your daughter?”
“Of course I was,” said Trenton indignantly. “It simply took some time
to find where I was going. Now, what have you done with her? I hardly
want to think of what sort of backward treatment you’ve provided her.”
“That would be my treatment you are questioning,” said Adam’s mother
quietly as she gracefully walked into the room. “I simply removed the bullet
and administered a paste to ward off infection. If you have issue with that,
you can speak with me.”
Trenton seemed taken aback, likely by Jane’s beauty and her calm yet
determined demeanor, and apparently did not know what to say in response.
“I — I’m sure it’s fine,” he eventually stuttered out. “I should take her
back now.”
“That’s hardly advisable, sir,” said Jane. “She should not move for at
least a couple of days, until she has healed enough. There is still concern
that infection could set in, and I would not like to chance it.”
“A couple of days? You would like me to leave her here for days?”
“You object? Do you find something amiss with her care here?” Finlay
asked, rounding to face the man, his scowling face wearing his displeasure
in the man’s countenance toward them.
“She should be with her father,” the man finally said, raising his nose
into the air as if to prove he was somewhat better than them, despite the fact
he stood at least a foot shorter than all of the men. Even Peggy was inches
taller than he.
“I think, sir, we have ascertained that she is no better off with you than
with us,” said Kyla, rising to face Trenton. “We, at least, provided her care
when she so greatly needed it. My own father may not be particularly warm
toward me, but at the very least when I myself was injured, he was at this
doorstep as soon as he heard. Now, why do you not visit your daughter? If it
seems she has not felt well treated, then you can determine together what is
best to do.”
The man seemed as if he wanted to say something in return, but instead
nodded at her, and Adam silently led him up the stairs, down the hallway to
his bedroom.
“She’s staying in here?” he asked after Adam pushed open the door to
let him in first. Trenton must have noted the masculinity of the room.
“She is,” Adam said in a tone that brokered no argument.
“Father,” Rachel’s sleepy voice barely reached the door from across the
room. “You came.”
“I did,” he said, coming to stand next to her. “Are they treating you
well?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, looking up at him, bemused. “Jane tended my
wound ever so expertly, and I am already feeling much better.”
“Good,” he said, before running a hand over his balding head. “I should
never have let you come. Women have no place in such a land.”
“I do not believe I am the one to blame in this situation, Father,” she
said, seeming to gather all the dignity she could while lying in a bed facing
him. Adam stood at the door, not leaving but neither entering the room.
“What does Vincent have to say for himself?”
“He feels the same, that had you not been with us, none of this would
have happened.”
“Nor would it if he had not been such an idiot!” she said in
exasperation. “Why must men always project their blame elsewhere?”
“Do you feel safe here?” he asked, ignoring her sentiments on the man
he so foolishly was considering for her husband.
 “Of course I do,” she said, surprising Adam. “You need not worry about
me here.”
“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “As soon as you are able to, you will return
to Darfield Keep and stay put until it is time to leave. Understood?”
“Yes, I can agree to that,” she said, then seemingly wanting to be rid of
him, added, “I am tired, however, Father, if you wouldn’t mind leaving me
be for a time?”
“Yes, I shall be gone shortly,” he said with a nod. “Goodnight then,
Rachel.”
“Goodnight, Father.”
As he brushed by him, Adam told him in a low voice that it was too late
and too dark for him to return to Darfield this evening, but that he was
welcome to stay overnight and would be accompanied back in the morning.
While Trenton did not seem pleased, he agreed.
Adam took one last look at Rachel as she turned over in the large, wide
bed and seemingly quickly fell into a deep sleep. He shut the door and led
the man back down the stairs.
 8

H ardwick Trenton rose much earlier than usual, having gone to

sleep without the spirits of which he typically partook with the
rest of the company he was keeping. The bedchamber he had been
given had windows covered in only a light, fine mesh material, and the
moment the sun hit his face, he came out of bed with a shock.
He began wandering the halls, but the house was quiet. At first, he
thought the rest of them were still sleeping, but then soon realized they
were already outside, working in the yard. It seemed they had animals to
attend to. How fortunate he did not live with such responsibilities, he
thought with a sigh of contentment at the life he had built for himself.
He had tried many a business, with both failure and success, but finally
he had found one that seemed to be turning consistent profits, with more on
the horizon. He was fortunate his partner, Sullivan Andrews, had the
intellect to understand the inner workings of the power plant. Hardwick
focused on what he knew best, and that was forging relationships with the
other businessmen who could help them profit.
Hardwick opened the huge doors of the front vestibule, finding himself
outside, and he began to search for one of the men who could return him to
Darfield before they left on the hunt without him. He saw the man, Adam
he believed his name was, pass into a small shack in the corner, and he
made his way over. The Highlander exited the building before Hardwick
could reach him, but curiosity got the better of him. He pushed open the
door and began to look around the small, dark room. He saw no one, but did
spy what seemed to be blueprints in the corner on a large working table.
Looking around to ensure he was entirely alone, Hardwick inched closer to
see what the man could be working on.
What the devil … it was clear the McDougall was designing some type
of machine, though for what, Hardwick wasn’t quite entirely sure. He
reached out, flipping the page to look underneath, and there he saw the
strangest looking contraption. It was a stand of some sort, and on top what
looked to be an odd flower. Hardwick looked around the room, and in the
corner he saw scrap wood lying about. He walked over and there, hidden
away behind a stack of firewood, was a small wooden contraption, almost
like a prototype of whatever was drawn on the paper.
Looking out the window to ensure no one was about, Hardwick picked
up the thing. He was surprised when the petals of what he thought to be a
flower moved as he did. He looked at it more closely then pushed at the
moving arms with his fingers. They turned in a circle, he realized with
astonishment. But whatever were they supposed to do?
He went back to the drawings on the table, leafing through the loose
sheaves of paper. Reading the notes that accompanied the line sketches,
astonishment came over him as he realized what the machine was for. It
harnessed the power of the wind, like a horizontal windmill, that the man
was trying to use to generate power. It was… well, even Hardwick could
admit that it was rather genius. Perhaps the Highlanders were smarter than
he had initially given them credit for. Hardwick laughed out loud at the
discovery. How had fate brought him here, to this revelation, in the middle
of the Scottish Highlands?
This could be of great use to his business. It would certainly put him far
ahead of any other competitor, particularly in the countryside. And the wind
— well, there was certainly no cost to the wind.
He thought of taking the blueprints and the prototype with him, but
looking outside he could see men working in the yard and knew that was
not an option. It was far too likely that he would be caught. No, he would
have to think of another way to make this idea his own. He wasn’t quite
sure how yet, but he knew in time he would figure it out. He always did.
W HEN R ACHEL WOKE , she found herself alone in the room for a few
minutes before Peggy came in to check on her.
“Oh! You’re awake. How lovely,” said the girl, crossing from the door
toward her on the bed. Peggy had beautiful dark waves of hair that pooled
around her shoulders.
“Your hair is so lovely,” Rachel murmured.
“It’s the devil to manage, though,” Peggy answered in a rueful tone.
Rachel frowned thoughtfully. “Do you ever wear it up?”
“Ach, I try not to. It’s so heavy when I tie it back, my head pounds
fiercely. Anyway, never mind that. How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” she said, smiling at the girl. “Is my father still here?”
“Nay, he is not,” said Peggy, her face becoming guarded. “He left this
morning after breaking his fast. You shall see him soon, I’m sure, though, as
Mother said you would likely be able to try walking around a bit today.”
Rachel wasn’t sure about that. Her leg felt better, true, but there was still
quite a twinge when she moved it, and she could hardly think about actually
bearing any of her weight upon it.
“You shall have help,” said Peggy with a gleam in her eye. “When
Father fell and hurt his leg some years ago, Adam fashioned these sticks
that Father held under his arms to help him walk. I have no idea how he
came up with them, but they really helped Father get around the castle and
the yard. Anyway, he still has them. All Adam has to do is whittle them
down some so that they’ll fit your height.”
“No, no, please do not go to so much trouble,” Rachel said, raising a
palm. “I’ll rest a couple of more days, and then I’ll be fine to leave you.”
Peggy’s lips turned into a pout. “Oh, you must try these. Adam will be
ever so pleased if they work for you, and it will give us a chance to
explore!”
“Explore?”
“Oh aye, I do so want to show you the rest of the castle and the bailey.
Have you ever been in a Scottish castle before?”
“No, unless you count Darfield, I can say that is one thing — among
many — that I have yet to do,” answered Rachel, feeling the corners of her
mouth turn up in a smile at the thought of seeing more of the castle, and
also having someone to spend some time with.
“Oh, we will have such fun,” said Peggy with a grin, “I’ll return shortly
with your walking sticks!”
 She flew out of the room, her long, unbound dark hair flowing behind
her, and her spirit was contagious as Rachel looked forward to getting out
of bed. When she had decided to journey north to the Highlands, she could
never have imagined anything like the situation in which she currently
found herself, and yet, despite getting shot — she could still hardly believe
it — she was oddly enjoying herself. Here, in this home, she had found
people who seemed to genuinely care about her, even though they had no
idea who she was and her father had been so very rude to them.
She pushed herself up from the pillow and scooted to sit on the side of
the bed, her short legs dangling over the edge. She used her arms to push
herself forward, until she was finally standing on her good leg, her toes
sinking into the rug covering the floor. She was slowly making her way
over to the bowl of water in the corner by using the mattress to support her
weight when a knock came at the door. It was pushed open to reveal the
blonde woman who Rachel remembered was Kyla, as well as another
woman, the two of them carrying a bathtub. More women she didn’t
recognize and a handful of older children trooped in, each carrying buckets
full of steaming water, which they dumped into the tub before taking their
leave.
“Oh, bless you!” said Rachel as the last of them walked out through the
door, leaving just Kyla and the other woman. “I was so longing for a bath. I
thought to splash some water on my face, but this shall be simply
heavenly.”
Kyla laughed. “I can imagine so. When Peg came running downstairs in
a flutter about you getting out of bed and exploring, Jane and I figured you
would perhaps enjoy a proper soak first. Martha here will help you get
undressed and into the bathtub. When you’re finished, Peggy will come to
collect you. She is currently down with Adam, having him rig up some
contraption or other for you. We shall see you soon.”
With a smile, the beautiful woman sailed out the door. Rachel looked
after her wistfully. If only she could command a room like that. The woman
was so strong, so sure of herself. Rachel pushed aside her envious feelings
and focused on removing the borrowed nightgown she had been wearing
since she arrived. With Martha’s assistance, Rachel soon found herself
relaxing in the warm rose-scented water, which seemed to soothe away her
worries… for the moment at least.
P EGGY WAS true to her word, arriving shortly after Rachel’s bath ended. She
carried the curious walking sticks she had mentioned earlier. There were
two of them, and on the top was fashioned cloth sewn over straw.
“It’s for padding,” said Peggy, as she showed Rachel how to use them.
“You place them under your arms, and you can then give them your full
weight when you would normally step down with your injured foot. If you
use them too long, after some time it may become rather sore under your
arms, but you should be fine for today!”
“Ingenious,” Rachel murmured, admiring the design.
“Yes,” Peggy nodded. “That’s Adam. He is both creative and intelligent,
my mother says. I believe he may have taken the creativity for all of us.”
She laughed.
“Come, I’ll show ye around.”
Peggy led her out of the chamber and down the hall, showing her the
other bedrooms, as well as the dark, masculine study her father shared with
Finlay. With some effort, Rachel managed to follow Peggy up the stairs,
which were in the corner of two corridors in somewhat of an L-shaped
pattern, to view her mother’s sitting room. This room was much more
feminine, with beautiful embroidered pillows and wall hangings, as well as
vases filled with flowers. It was comfortable, and Rachel could see it being
a rather lovely place to spend time.
More stairs led to additional bedrooms, including Peggy’s own, and
Rachel was becoming a bit confused as to who slept where, but she paid it
no mind. The steps went round and round as they led up, the castle built as
a tall tower manor. When it was time to descend the stairs, Rachel found
herself in trouble. It was much more difficult to place her weight on the
sticks going down, though she managed with Peggy’s help.
Finally, they made it back to the main floor, where Peggy showed her
the dining room and what Rachel would call the drawing room area, where
the family often gathered after meals. She was becoming fairly tired after
the lengthy tour but tried not to let it show as Peggy’s enthusiasm remained
high.
“Now to the yard,” said the girl, who Rachel felt was likely her own age
but so much more vivacious, as she led her out the front doors.
 Rachel’s walking sticks sank into the grass, but she managed to keep
going.
“Here’s the stable, where we keep most of our own animals. We have
others that are tended to by some of the crofters. Then over here….”
“What is that building?” Rachel asked of the remaining small brick
building in the corner of the yard.
“Oh, that? I’m not sure what it was originally, but now it’s Adam’s
workshop, I suppose you’d call it. Where he goes to think and design. Do
you want to see it?”
Rachel did. She hadn’t seen the man since yesterday, and she longed to
again, although she told herself she was being silly. She knew he thought
her a helpless Englishwoman, one who did not listen to reason and caused
him only trouble. Yet… she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. Perhaps it
was because of the way he had leapt into action to help her. Or perhaps it
was because she had spent the past two days in his bed with far too much
time to dream. Either way, he had not been far from her thoughts since
she’d met him, and she wanted to know more about him.
She suddenly realized Peggy was looking at her questioningly, and she
came back the moment with a start. “Ummm, sure why not?” she said,
attempting nonchalance, and Peggy led her across the yard, finally coming
to a halt in front of the small stone building.
Peggy gave a quick knock before pushing open the door. His back was
to them, and when they entered he didn’t look up, but held up a finger,
telling them to wait just a moment. Rachel took the opportunity to study
him once more. His brow was furrowed as he bent over the large sheet of
paper in front of him, a kilt draped around his hips, his strong, bare calves
peeking out beneath and his golden chest on display atop. It was suddenly
quite warm in here, as the July sun had crested in the sky and the small
window offered little air movement. She felt her mouth go dry, and wasn’t
sure if she could attribute it to the warm room, the physical exertion from
wandering the castle or something else entirely.
 9

A dam was pleased that he had finished what he determined would

be his initial design. Not that any design was ever complete, but it
was a good base from which to start. His idea was to not only
turn the wind energy into electricity, but store it as well. He knew of the
electricity that was being used to light London and similar cities. Could it
be of use here? It was not as if they needed streetlamps, but he thought
perhaps even better would be using such a source of power to replace some
of the strenuous activities the crofters were used to doing. Perhaps there
was a way to bring water up out of a well, or even power equipment to
lessen the burden on the workers in the field or the barns. How helpful that
would be.
He chewed on his thumbnail in thought, before remembering his sister
and Rachel were standing at the door. He determined he was not going to
solve this problem in mere minutes, and turned to address them.
“Ladies,” he said, leaning against the writing desk in front of him.
“How fare ye today?”
“Well, thank you,” said Rachel before Peggy answered with a “Fine,
thanks.”
All was silent for a moment, as Adam had a hard time removing his
gaze from Rachel’s delicate features. Her blue eyes were locked upon him,
and he thought he could drown in their depths and remain at peace. She was
dressed in his family’s plaid, and he realized Peggy must have loaned it to
her, as it seemed to be gathered behind her, clearly far too big for her. And
yet… it looked rather well on her. Like the perfect fit. He could have stood
there and stared at her all day, until he noticed Peggy looking back and forth
between him and Rachel. He knew he seemed a fool, but it seemed this
slight, delicate Englishwoman held an inexplicable power over him.
Adam finally cleared his throat and broke the silence. “It is good to see
you are well enough to get around.”
She laughed a little nervously, though why, he wasn’t sure. “Oh, yes!
Peggy provided me with a tour of your home. It is lovely. And I must thank
you so much for these tools that allow me to walk. They are rather useful.
Have you ever thought of selling them?”
“Selling them?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, her blue eyes darting up toward him once
more. “You could patent them, I’m sure of it, and fetch quite the dollar for
the design.”
“Actually, Rachel, I do not need to make money off of my crafts. I
merely mean to better the lives of those who may require it.”
“But is that not what you would do? Better so many more lives?” she
asked. “Sure, you would profit off of them as well, but you would reach so
many more people that—”
“All is well as it is, Rachel,” he said, cutting her off, though somewhat
gently, and her face flushed pink. He felt a bit of an ogre for his shortness
with her, but he had to make her understand.
He noted Peggy’s continued stare, and he knew why she was curious.
He wasn’t typically so abrupt. He was serious, though usually much more
friendly. There was something about this girl, though — something that
brought out a different side of him.
“I — ah — forgot something in the keep,” Peggy said, slowly inching
her way out the door. “I’ll return in a moment. Just — just wait here,
Rachel,” she said before leaving, shutting the door behind her.
“What are you working on?” Rachel asked him, breaking the silence
and the awkwardness that stretched between them.
“Nothing of note,” he said, shrugging and covering the papers in front
of him. He didn’t wish to have a stranger look over his plans. It was akin to
showing a part of himself, of the innermost thoughts within his mind. “I do
not believe you would be interested.”
“Let me see — please?” she asked. “I enjoy such things, truly I do. My
father — well, not so much my father — but those he works with create
designs as well. I find them fascinating when I am able to learn of them. My
father would rather I focus on other things, but his business partner sneaks
me into the plant.”
He studied her, confused as to who this girl — woman? — truly was.
She did not seem to be the genteel Englishwoman he had initially thought
her to be, and yet she still had a delicate countenance to her that evoked a
feeling of protectiveness in him, making him want to shield her from any
and all who meant to do her harm. Not that he had any business being the
man to do so, he knew. He was nothing — the son of a chieftain, true, but in
the Scottish Highlands, that didn’t mean much anymore. The chieftain was
simply the man who had the responsibility of ensuring his family’s survival.
It was not a duty he envied, though his father, and now his brother, Finlay,
had done a fine job of it.
Unable to resist her pleading eyes any longer, he finally stepped back
from the writing desk, waving his hand toward it, and she hobbled over
toward him. As she drew closer, he smelled the faint scent of rose rising
from her skin.
“It looks like a windmill but… on its side,” she said, her eyes roving the
page. She turned to look at him, her blue eyes wide in her narrow face.
“And yet, different somehow.”
“You are correct,” he said. “The idea comes from the windmill, aye.
What I am looking to do is harness the wind power to convert the wind’s
kinetic energy into electrical energy. It takes the idea of harnessing the
power of wind, but on a smaller scale than the windmill you would
typically see. This design I have in mind should keep it from any substantial
damage. You see, it’s horizontal in structure, not vertical, and uses cloth
sails. It would not only generate electricity but also store it for future use.”
“How does the conversion process work?” she asked, and he looked at
her closely, seeing that she was genuinely interested.
No one had ever shown true regard for his work before. His brothers
and sister, his parents, Kyla — they would listen to his explanations and
they appreciated the outcome of his experiments and inventions, but no one
had ever really cared how they worked, or the thought that went into them.
“Well,” he began, feeling somewhat excited at discussing his thought
process. “The wind spins around the blades, or the sails, as any windmill
does, of course. As the blades turn, there is a shaft they are connected to.
That shaft rotates with enough force and speed to create kinetic energy. The
energy is then transmitted into a generator, which turns it into electric
energy. Here,” he said. “I can show you what I’m thinking.”
He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up his prototype.
He felt rather vulnerable in showing her, but perhaps it would better explain
what he was thinking. He placed it on the small table in the corner of the
room, and when she began to hobble toward it, he reached out a hand and
helped her, practically lifting her the few steps over to the bench in front of
it.
As he had when he was helping his mother dress Rachel’s wound, he
felt a bit of a tremor run through him at her slight frame in his hands. She
was such a wisp of a thing, and yet seemed to possess an inner strength.
Where did it come from?
“Thank you,” she said, a becoming pink blush creeping up her face.
She leaned over the model, running her hands along the wood he had
carved, moving the blades of the wind turbine he had created on such a
small scale.
“Did you create this?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“It’s incredible woodwork,” she said, her eyebrows drawing together as
she looked at it.
“Oh, ’tis nothing,” he said, embarrassed at her remarks. “You should see
my father’s work.”
He showed her how the thing moved, his hands settling over hers, and
he felt a shock run through him where they touched. She seemed somewhat
engrossed in his explanation, asking him questions about electricity that
proved a far greater knowledge of it than most people possessed.
“How do you know so much about the subject?” he asked her.
“My father’s business,” she said in surprise. “I’m sorry, I thought you
knew. He runs a power plant.”
“Your father?” he asked incredulously. How could such a man
successfully run such an operation?
“Yes, my father,” she said with a low, throaty chuckle that turned
something within him, something he had not felt in a very long time. “He’s
a businessman, truthfully. He began the power plant a couple of years ago
with a partner, a man who does understand the workings of the operation.
My father’s role is more regarding the relationships required with other
vendors, owners of buildings, and the city of London. Sullivan — his
partner — he has told me much of the workings of the plant, which is how I
know of it.”
She paused for a moment.
“Sullivan would likely be interested in learning more of your design,”
she said. “I don’t see how it would work within the city, but perhaps it
would allow for an extension into the countryside, where everything is
much more spread out.”
He was already shaking his head before she finished her explanation.
“This is just for me and my clan, for now at least,” he said. “I dinna
wish to share it further.”
“All right,” she said with a shrug. “Though if you ever wanted to speak
to someone about what you’re working on… I’m sure he would be
interested.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, to keep her from continuing to push the
idea on him. “And your man, Vincent, he is involved with the company as
well?”
“He is not my man,” she responded with a look of vehemence. “He is
my father’s choice for me and for his own successor as well. I suppose he
sees himself in Vincent, which is a scary thought.” She sighed. “I wish he
would allow me to succeed him instead, but of course a woman should not
be involved in such work. He will scarcely allow me in the door of the
plant, let alone learn anything about it, and of course would never think to
provide me with any work there. No, instead I am to do what? He would
rather I sit at home and keep house for him, until it is time for me to do so
for another man.” She sighed again. “In time I’m sure he will realize
Vincent is not a proper match.”
Adam’s resolve toward the woman began to soften, as he took in the
distress in her eyes. She truly was in a situation, and he wasn’t sure he
could help her out of it, though he supposed he could provide her some
words of advice.
“I was told once to follow my heart and it could not lead me wrong,” he
said, looking out the small window of the storage shed. “Many of my
countrymen are making their way west, across the sea. However, I could
never follow suit. My brother Roderick wants to go, and perhaps Peggy,
too, someday. But I will never leave. My home is here, in these Highlands.”
“I can see why you feel that,” Rachel responded. “It’s beautiful here.
Truly. Despite all that has happened, I am very glad I came.”
 She bestowed on him a smile that lit his heart, bringing to life feelings
he should certainly not be having.
He stood abruptly. “Come,” he said. “Let’s see where Peggy has gotten
off to. It’s nearly noon, time for luncheon.”
He didn’t lift her again, but followed her out the door, walking closely
beside her to ensure she remained steady on her feet.
She may be small, but she was packing a mighty punch on him. And he
didn’t like it. Not one bit.
 10

T he bed was as soft and snug as it had ever been and yet somehow
now that she knew Adam better, was aware of his scent and the fact
that she was lying in his usual place, she somehow could no longer
sleep. She tossed and turned as the comforting smell of him filled her, the
blankets seemingly holding her as if they were his own arms.
Stop it, she scolded herself, you’re being ridiculous. The man was too
serious, too curmudgeonly, and yet… there was something about him that
held her attention and wouldn’t let go. At first, she thought it was his
seriously dark, handsome good looks. And yet all of the brothers seemed to
hold a similar bearing, each attractive in their own right, but she was drawn
to Adam like she had never been to a man before. Certainly not Vincent,
she thought with a laugh. Perhaps that was it — she had simply been around
Vincent so long that any other attractive man held her attention.
She knew, however, that was not the case. True, Adam wasn’t exactly
the droll, humorous type, but she was beginning to realize it was more that
he was simply thinking, analyzing what was happening around him. He
truly thought about what he wanted to say before he spoke, which was
actually quite refreshing for a change.
She tried to push him from her mind and return to sleep, but she was
also incredibly thirsty — perhaps from the concoction Jane had continued
to encourage her to drink to keep any pain at bay, although Rachel had to
say her leg hardly even throbbed at all now. She looked for the cup of water
on the bedside table but found it empty. She sighed, realizing she wasn’t
going to be sleeping anytime soon.
 They had all told her to call out if she needed anything, but she certainly
was not going to rouse anyone from their beds in order to get her a cup of
water — that was ridiculous.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, slightly grimacing as she
did so. Perhaps the pain hadn’t quite disappeared after all. You’re stronger
than this, Rachel, she told herself, and, in the darkened room, quite
determinedly found the walking sticks Adam had fashioned for her. They
did afford her a great deal of freedom, and she hoped he would make the
design more widely known so that others could benefit.
The kitchens were, of course, one level below, but she did not let that
deter her as she grunted and groaned her way down the stairs, taking them
carefully, one step at a time. She was rather pleased with herself when she
finally reached the bottom, and began making her way down the corridor to
where the ancient kitchens were housed.
She was about to push open the door when she saw light emanating
from the room through the open crack of the door. It seemed someone else
was unable to sleep tonight. She peered around the door and saw broad
shoulders bent over the table, the dark head of the man down as he stared
into the cup before him, his fingers tapping idly on the table. Adam.
Forgetting her thirst, she was suddenly overcome with nerves at the thought
of sitting down alone with him, and she began to slowly back away.
“Are ye going to come in or stand in the hallway all night?” he said
suddenly, causing her to jump and let out a bit of a squeak.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked, tapping her way into the
kitchen.
“I could hear ye coming from the moment you started on the stairs,” he
said. “Ye’re not exactly silent with your assists.”
“Oh,” she said, embarrassed she had not realized it. “I suppose you’re
right.”
She looked around the kitchen, trying to determine where she could find
a cup. She hobbled over to a side cupboard and began searching through.
Adam saw her struggle and rose, his large frame coming up behind her,
suddenly dwarfing her. He placed a large, warm hand over her small one.
“Here,” he said, “let me help.”
She tried to ignore the tingle that coursed through her at his touch as she
moved to the side, allowing him to find a cup.
“What would you like?” he asked.
 “Water, please,” she said, and he nodded his head, filling the cup for her
as she made her way to the small table. After she seated herself across from
his place, he set the drink in front of her.
“What has you awake at this hour?” he asked, re-settling himself on the
wooden bench.
She felt her cheeks warm. She couldn’t very well tell him that she had
been thinking of him lying in the bed, now could she?
“I, ah… um… my leg was bothering me,” she said, rather flustered, and
his face changed to a look of concern.
“I thought it was healing. I hope it’s not infected. Would ye like
something more for the pain? I’m sure my mother has something in the
cupboards if I remember how to brew it…” His head craned around as if
looking for answers to her problem.
“Oh, no!” she said, not wanting to take any more of the concoction. “It’s
fine. It’s just slightly uncomfortable is all, and then I found myself rather
thirsty, hence my journey here to the kitchen.”
“Well, if there is anything ye should need, you’ll tell us, aye?” he said
with a raised eyebrow and she nodded.
“Why are you all so nice to me?” she blurted out. “My father was
nothing but rude to you, and I know I rather vexed you, though not
purposefully. I’m only here because of the stupidity of a member of our
hunting party. And yet you’ve all been nothing but wonderfully kind,
bringing me here, seeing to my welfare, and caring for me. Why, you’ve
even given up your bedchamber for me!”
“’Tis fine,” he said. “Though Roderick snores awfully loud.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling even more guilty. “I am so sorry.”
He laughed. “I’m only jesting. We have plenty of bedrooms.” He waved
a hand in the air as if dismissing her concerns. “And we would do the same
for anyone who was in need, be they Scottish or English. It’s in our blood, I
suppose. As long as ye are not fixing to take our land or harm our people,
then we’ll do right by you. Except for my mother.”
“Oh?” she said, raising her head at that, surprised, for Jane seemed
nothing but kind.
“My mother will help anyone, friend or foe,” he said with a laugh.
“She is rather wonderful,” Rachel said wistfully.
She saw him look at her with question in his eyes, but she wasn’t quite
ready to share that part of her story with him.
 “It seems ye have a sad story to tell, lass, but there is no need to share
with me,” he said, and her heart turned, suddenly wanting to tell him more
as a way to become closer to the man.
“For now, tell me the story of you and your fiancé. Ye must be looking
forward to being reunited,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, and she
stilled, suddenly remembering what she would return to shortly.
“How many times do I have to tell you that Vincent is not my fiancé?”
she said vehemently, and he gave a short laugh.
“It seems the man has other ideas — as does yer father. When he was
here, he was going on about your upcoming wedding, and how ye were not
to be left alone with the likes of us. I’m sure he would sorely disapprove of
this nighttime rendezvous.”
She looked down, unable to meet Adam’s eyes at his last sentence,
choosing to answer him with the seriousness of which he began this
conversation.
“My father… certainly has his own views on my life and how things
should be,” she said. “However, I’m sure he will soon come to understand
that I have no wish to marry Vincent, not now or ever. Vincent is… well, I
suppose one could say that Vincent thinks rather highly of Vincent.”
Adam laughed at that, his face breaking out into a beautiful smile that
warmed not only her heart but her entire body down to her toes. His laugh
was a musical sound and made her smile, then join in. She had not meant to
jest, but she supposed a man who regarded himself as highly as Vincent did
perhaps deserved a laugh on his behalf.
They shared the smile for a moment, but soon she lost all brevity as his
face took on a rather serious facade as he stared at her, as if trying to learn
more of her.
“Adam,” she said, her breath suddenly hitching in her throat, not really
knowing what she was going to say, but feeling she needed more from him,
from their time together. “I… I just want to say that I …”
“Aye?” he said, leaning over the table towards her.
“I’m sorry if the English have been so utterly boorish toward you,” she
finally said, unable to speak aloud what was running through her mind —
that she had feelings toward him she couldn’t explain, feelings that went
beyond friendship and gratitude, but rather something more profound,
something she had never felt before. She felt a pull toward him that came
from deep inside her, and she wanted to know him so much better. When
she’d come to the Highlands, she had yearned for adventure. Never did she
realize she would find it, not only in the land, but in a person as well. She
wanted to tell him so badly, but she had never been particularly forward,
and she didn’t know how to even begin putting her thoughts into words.
Instead, she simply looked up at him, trying to convey all she felt through
her stare.
He looked down at his hands and cleared his throat. “I ah, I should be
getting back to bed,” he said. “As should you. I’ll help you to your room.”
“Your room, you mean?” she said with a smile. “I should be fine.”
“Well, let me take you up some water then, at the very least.” He rose
and filled her empty cup. As they made for the stairs, she glanced wistfully
back at the kitchen, as if leaving the room somehow had left behind the
opportunity to find what she was truly looking for.
 11

A dam followed closely behind Rachel 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 lie 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 he knew she would both want and deserve.
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 longed 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 forget it
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 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.
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, Rachel.”
“Goodnight, Adam,” she said softly, and as he continued down the
hallway to climb the steps, he forced himself to resist turning to meet the
stare he could feel burning into his back.

P EGGY 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 Rachel 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 Rachel would be attending, but
quickly 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.
“Rachel 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, then headed
out to the yard before his mother put him to work indoors.

R ACHEL 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,
Rachel 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 Rachel 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 their true camaraderie,
so different from the cool politeness often found at London gatherings. The
bride and groom also seemed to be sincerely in love, and Rachel 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 brooch 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 Rachel 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 Rachel 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.
 12

A dam watched as Rachel 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 Rachel, her dark head
contrasting with Rachel’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 with a dramatic sigh.
“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 Rachel able to sit
alone. “I think Rachel 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 Rachel. He stood next to her,
and she looked up at him with 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 Rachel seemed to have reduced 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 Rachel 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 do not 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 than 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.
“’Twould 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. 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.
 13

A s Rachel 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 women 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 Rachel 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 would
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
return 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 Rachel 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 into
the room and, taking Rachel 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 Rachel’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 Adam appeared through the door, asking her if she was
ready. “I am,” she said, and with one final look behind her, she walked
through the doorway 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?”
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 it, 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
Rachel 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—? Rachel, 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, having spent 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 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 to a point, 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 Rachel, swallowing the lump that grew in her throat.
She seldom thought of her mother, choosing not to. She certainly never
spoke of her, but when she looked into Adam’s dark blues eyes, she felt as
though she could trust him. “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 gentry, 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 than 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 Rachel. “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, lass, 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 their lips met, 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 than she had ever seen
before, and she never wanted it to stop.
But as a bird called, breaking the silence that had filled the still air
around them, he moved his hands to her elbows, and stepped away from
her, leaving her feeling utterly and completely bereft.
 14

A dam breathed hard as he tried to take control of himself. What

had come over him to kiss this Englishwoman so?
Perhaps it was the setting. While he had seen the scene before
him thousands of times, he had never done so through her eyes. The way
she had explained it sounded like lyrics to a song, and he had never taken
the time to fully appreciate the beauty that the land just the other side of his
front door held.
Or perhaps it was her. He looked at her now, her long auburn hair
cascading down her back after he had released her, the red of it shining in
the sun. Her blue eyes reminded him of the water below, and they were
dreamy now as she looked up at him. Her lips were rosy from his kisses.
Aye, she looked like she had been completely and thoroughly ravished.
Adam knew two things. The first was that he should never, ever have
kissed her. The second was that he wanted to again.
He cleared his throat and looked away, over her shoulder at the sky
behind her.
“We’ve tarried here far too long,” he said, somewhat gruffly. “We must
get a move on.”
She nodded, saying nothing, and as he noted the innocence about her,
the way she looked at him made him feel like an ass. Clearly, the kiss had
meant something to her. Perhaps it was due to the serious conversation
they’d carried out prior, or perhaps it was the effect of the loch. Whatever it
was, she had to understand that this would be the last of it, that there would
be nothing further between the two of them.
 “Will your fiancé be missin’ ye?” he asked, knowing it would anger her,
as he set into a bit of melancholy himself.
“I do not have a fiancé,” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration
as she turned to walk back to their horses. Good. He had raised her ire.
Perhaps now she would forget any other emotion toward him.
“That’s right,” he said. “I remember. But what else will you do, if you
do not marry the man? Will your father support you forever?”
“No,” she said, and he regretted his question when he saw the look of
panic cross her eyes. “I suppose I shall find someone to marry eventually.
And if not, then I will work.”
“Work?” he asked her. “What would you do?”
“I’m not sure, really,” she replied.
As she took his arm to regain her balance, he belatedly remembered the
wound in her leg. He hoped she hadn’t hurt it walking down to the water,
but she seemed fine besides the lack of balance over the craggy rocks.
“But I like to stay busy. I enjoy learning new tasks, and if my father will
not allow me to work or do business in his company then I will have to go
elsewhere. Perhaps to another company like my father’s, if he truly refuses
to allow me to work for him. Or perhaps I shall work as a secretary. I have
the skills and am very organized.”
“I dinna doubt it,” he said. “Though I canna see you taking orders
particularly well.”
She seemed to ignore him as she mounted her horse, refusing his help.
“Lead the way, kind sir,” she said mockingly, and he found the path
once more, staying silent as he led them up and out of the valley, on toward
Darfield.
They barely spoke for the first part of the ride. It wasn’t extremely far to
Darfield, but he went at a much slower pace than he typically would have
ridden it himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her skills on a horse, but
more so that he didn’t want the stitches in her leg to open up if there was
too much jarring. His mother had given him fairly precise instructions.
They had just crossed over onto MacTavish land — though, really, it
was all now one and the same since Finlay and Kyla had married and the
agreement between the clans had been forged — when the first raindrop
fell. Adam felt it on his bare shoulder, as he also noted the heat had
dissipated from the wind. It was not cold, per se, but nor was the day warm
any longer. Perhaps the unusually warm weather was finally breaking.
 He looked back. Rachel wore only her light summer gown, and he
cursed himself for not having more foresight on her dress in case the
weather should turn inclement. In the Scottish Highlands, no weather was
guaranteed, no matter the time of year.
He looked up at the sky, which had grown darker by the minute, and he
prayed the rain would hold off until they arrived.
“How does your leg fare?” he called back to her. “Can we pick up the
pace some?”
“I’m fine,” she said back to him, over the wind that had begun to pick
up. “Do not worry about me. I shall stay right behind you!”
Of course he would worry about her. The woman looked liable to be
blown away by a breeze, let alone this stiff wind. He urged his horse into a
fast canter and looked back to ensure she was following, as she said she
would.
She was a determined one, that was for sure. As fast as they rode,
however, it seemed they were only going deeper into the eye of the
gathering storm, and before long the rain was coming down in droves,
drenching both of them. Adam knew they were not far from Darfield, but
when a crack of lightning rent the sky, he realized it was more imperative
that they find shelter — and quickly.
He looked around him, taking stock of where they were. They had
neared the hunting lands, and he knew there were makeshift shelters in case
of such events. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, picturing their
location.
“There’s a hunting cottage nearby!” he yelled back at her. “We’ll stop
there until the storm clears. Follow me!”
He knew the storm might be over in moments, but one could never be
sure. He crashed through the brush of the woodland as he left the path,
taking her through the trees, where the effects of the storm had lessened, but
where they were more at risk of being hit by a falling tree.
He was relieved when the small shack popped into view, and he helped
her down before tying the horses to a branch under the overhang of the
shelter. Adam grabbed his saddlebag and ushered her inside, closing the
door behind them. The silence was instant, taking the place of the howling
wind that had assaulted their ears, until Adam could begin to hear the
pelting of rain upon the roof.
 He looked over at her, and as he did so, he quickly averted his gaze and
tried not to stare. The rain had melded the entire thin gown to her skin, and
he could see every curve of her body. No longer did he think of her as
having a childish build, for he was now very aware that she was all woman.
He took in their surroundings. There was a small wood stove, a couple
of chairs, and a cot. The shack was here for moments such as this — when
inclement weather arose and kept hunters waylaid for usually a few hours,
at most. He dumped the contents of his saddlebag on the bed, taking his
extra plaid and passing it to Rachel.
“Here,” he said gruffly. “This should help you stay warm.”
She nodded her acceptance and wrapped the garment around herself as
he set to starting a fire in the wood stove.
“I can show you how to tie that if ye’d prefer to wear it while you dry
your dress,” he said, realizing she’d get a chill in her cold garments despite
the summer weather. She looked on as he instructed her on how to tie the
wrap, and she nodded her understanding.
“I’ll wait outside while ye change,” he said and made for the door.
“No,” she stopped him. “No need to go out there again. If you turn your
back, that will be fine. But first — could you untie me?”
She turned around and he swallowed as he walked toward her, taking in
the laces that were keeping her sodden dress together. His fingers, so agile
with his fine tools, deftly untied the knotted, wet lace before he loosened it
enough that she would be able to slip out of it on her own. He tried not to
think of her body under the gown, which would be revealed as she slid out
of it.
“Should be fine now,” he said, then walked away with his back to her,
torn between needing to get as far from her as possible to keep from acting
on any foolish impulses — again — and from not wanting to return to the
rain.
He tried to focus on something — anything — else.
“You can turn now,” she said after what seemed like ages. “I’ve tied it
properly — I think.”
He did turn then, and was shocked by the sight in front of him. He was
taken aback at the feeling of possessiveness that overcame him when he
saw her standing there in his clan colors. She had draped the plaid over her
shoulder as he had instructed, tying it out front. It was huge on her, of
course, and her elfin body was dwarfed by the massive folds of fabric. And
yet she looked… warm and comfortable, soft and inviting.
“Very good,” he said gruffly, trying not to watch her too closely as she
crossed the floor and laid her dress in front of the stove to dry. “Would you
like an oatcake?” he asked her, holding one out.
“An oatcake?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Aye,” he said. “Please dinna tell me ye’ve never before had an
oatcake.”
“All right,” she said, smiling. “I will not tell you that.”
“Good heavens,” he responded. “I grew up on these things. We’d never
sit still at the table, so when my father sent us to bed without finishing
supper, my mother would stuff these in our pockets to eat later on. Here, try
one. Trust me, they’re not as bad as they look.”
She raised her eyebrows, but took it from his hand. He watched as her
small, perfect teeth bit into it, and the rather surprised look crossed her face.
“It’s not bad,” she said, and he let out a bit of a laugh.
“No, not bad at all.”
“Tell me more of your family,” she said, sitting in one of the two
roughly hewn wooden chairs around the small table.
“My family? I believe you came to know them fairly well,” he said,
taking the chair across from her.
“Yes, but I’m curious of the roles you each have. What do you do most
of the day? I know Finlay is the chieftain, but what of Roderick? Your
father?”
He nodded contemplatively then told her about the affable Callum, who
had traveled and stayed in the Northwest Territories, of Finlay and Kyla’s
marriage, which brought the clans together, and of the great Duncan
McDougall, who all respected. He told her of Roderick, his charm and free
spirit, and what their various roles were in their home and the community.
“It’s changed somewhat, now that we have tourists,” he said. “We never
had the Lowlanders or the English on these lands before, but we do what we
must to survive.”
“That’s why you begrudge us,” she said. “Because you would prefer we
were not here at all. These are your lands, and you invite us here not out of
welcome, but desperation.”
“I suppose you could look at it like that,” he replied.
 “You’re not at all like I thought you would be,” she said, looking down
at her hands, which twisted the plaid she wore round in her fingers.
“Oh? You had thought I would be something else?”
“Not you specifically, but Highlanders in general,” she said. “Scotland
is becoming more and more… fashionable, I suppose you could say. In
England, what with the Queen’s interest in Balmoral and your traditions.
And yet, the Highlanders are still often romanticized, if you will. You are
still seen as the people you likely once were centuries ago, and not who you
are today. Does that make sense?”
“Indeed it does,” he responded with a sigh. “Some are content with that.
But not me. We’re proud of our traditions, but we also want to be
recognized for who we truly are.”
“That makes sense to me,” she said, standing and walking over to him,
before surprising him by kneeling in front of him.
“I shall forever be glad to have met you and your family,” she said. “I
never thought… I never truly understood, I suppose, how a family should
and could behave. I will always remember you and your support of one
another, and I shall strive to emulate it for as long as I live.”
She looked up at him, her eyes earnest, and he wondered if she knew
what she was doing to him. He could see each and every freckle on her
nose, and he longed to trace them with his fingertips.
Leave her be, he told himself, and he leaned back, away from her. She
persisted, however, and the next thing he knew, she stood up and leaned
against him, her lips on his, his hands on her waist, and his thoughts were
swept away by the softness of the woman in his arms.
 15

R achel could barely breathe, could hardly think straight, as her

senses were so overwhelmed by the man who held her against
him. She could feel every inch of hard, thick muscle pressed
against her body beneath the fabric of the plaid wrapped around her.
He pulled back from her for a moment, and she felt his absence keenly.
He looked at her searchingly, as if trying to read what she was thinking.
“You’re not much experienced in the way of kissing, are ye, lass?”
Heat flushed her cheeks as she was overcome by embarrassment, and
she tried to pull away, out of his arms.
“I — no, but I thought — I mean, you kissed me before, and I — if it’s
not what you want, then… then I—”
“Rachel,” he said softly, putting a hand on her arm gently. “’Tis not it at
all. In fact, I rather appreciate you putting so much trust in me. You simply
don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
She raised her eyes to his.
“What do you mean?”
“You make me feel things with an intensity that I would not have
thought possible with any woman, let alone an Englishwoman,” he said,
lifting a palm to gently cup her cheek. “I want to kiss ye again, but I’m
afraid to do so.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of what it might lead to. This shouldn’t be. You and I can never be,
really. And yet… I dinna want to think of any other man showing you how
to kiss.”
 He pulled her close once more, his long fingers running up and down
her spine, his gaze dropping to her lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her
face toward him, her body sinking into his. Her hands moved of their own
accord, over his bare biceps and up his shoulders until her fingers were
twined in his dark straight locks, as his lips came to rest on hers once again.
Rachel had been raised by governesses who she had nagged to tell her
about the workings of love and relations between man and woman, but none
had been overly informative. She now realized, however, that words could
not accurately describe the desire that coursed through her bones, that made
her legs lose their strength, and filled her senses with the masculine scents
of pine and wood shavings that radiated off Adam. All she could hear was
the slight patter of the rain outside, which seemed to echo the fast beat of
her heart, and the fire that coursed over her skin where Adam touched her.
Adam was always so serious, so solemn, which in this moment was a
blessing as he held and caressed her in a way that was full of both purpose
and passion. His strong hands seemed to engulf her back where they
roamed over her, holding her tightly. Somehow this kiss seemed to be much
different than the one they had shared earlier.
Adam pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers as his lips
moved but a breath away. “Rachel, I should not want you, and yet… I canna
seem to help myself.”
She could hear the raggedness of his breathing, which now seemed to
match her own. “I feel the same,” she whispered back, surprising herself
with the words. She knew she shouldn’t say them to him, shouldn’t want
him as she did. She didn’t know what was to become of her in the future,
but if she were to make her living as a working woman, she may never have
the opportunity to find love. Why, then, could she not have this one
experience with a man? She was in the middle of the woodland in the
Scottish Highlands. No one would ever have to know, except her and
Adam.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes darkening yet holding a look of
worry as he seemed to search her face to determine what she was feeling. “I
refuse to push anything upon you that ye dinna want.”
“I am more sure of this than I have ever been of anything in my life,”
she said.
His lips came down on hers again, and this time his tongue met hers in a
tangled love play that she felt tingle through her body all the way down to
the tips of her toes. He lifted her then, carrying her over to the small cot,
where he sat down, pulling her legs around him. He deftly untied the plaid
that had taken her so long to correctly fasten, and pushed the material down,
exposing her bare skin beneath. She felt rather wicked, not wearing her
chemise, but it had been far too soaked to keep on beneath the plaid. Adam
certainly didn’t seem to mind, as he ran his calloused hands over the soft
skin of her shoulder and collarbone, before trailing them down her chest to
cup her breasts.
His lips left her then, coming to the side of her neck, where he began to
nibble on one of the most sensitive of areas, one she didn’t even know was
there. It was both utter torture yet pure bliss, and she tilted her head to the
other side to allow him better access.
As one hand held her upright, the other played with her nipple, and he
kissed his way down her neck, her chest, until he came to her exposed
breast. His tongue found it, and she heard a moan echo around the room,
which she belatedly realized she had emitted herself. As he moved to attend
to the other side, she looked down to see one of her hands still gripping
tightly to his hair, the other digging into the flesh of his upper back above
the plaid. He didn’t seem to mind in the least, however, though she didn’t
feel she could take any more of this. She wanted — needed — more,
though she wasn’t sure what it was she was searching for.
“Adam,” she cried out, and he gave a slight growl in return. His hands
came to her unbound, wet hair, which now hung loosely around her
shoulders. He found her lips again, his tongue plundering her over and over,
until she was nearly limp with wanting him.
Adam stood then, shifting her so that she had no choice but to stand on
her own two feet for a moment, just long enough for him to undo his kilt
and lay it on the small cot. She opened her eyes then, and saw his figure
highlighted from the glow cast by the fire. His skin was tanned from all of
the time spent outdoors, emphasizing the lean muscles that corded his arms,
chest, and abdomen. Before he could move, she was reaching out to feel the
hardness of him, until she caught him looking at her with such intensity that
she took her hand back.
“No, no,” he said, as sweat formed on his upper lip. “It’s fine. Go
ahead.”
She hadn’t looked below his waist — she was nervous, and when she
finally steeled her resolve and lowered her eyes, she had to gasp. She was
not quite sure how this was going to work, if it would at all. He seemed to
read her unease, as he brought a finger to her chin and tilted her face up to
look into his eyes.
“What you’re doing to me… rather frightens me, if ye must now the
truth,” he said with a bit of a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I —
I’m not sure this is right. You’ve never been with a man, and I—”
“I want nothing more right now than you,” she said with affirmation,
and pulled him back toward her, this time being the aggressor, kissing him
soundly as she wrapped her arms around him. As she did so, the plaid that
had still been loosely surrounding her fell to the floor, and she could feel the
length of him against her, pressing against her core.
As he kissed her, he brought her down on the small cot, and his hand
roamed between their bodies until he found her center, his thumb rubbing
against her, creating sensations she would never have thought possible. She
cried out then, arching up toward him, and he accepted her invitation as he
slowly sheathed himself inside of her.
She cried out, but then as she adjusted to him, she began to move
against him, slowly at first, but then with a quickening pace, and he rocked
with her, at first in a disjointed pattern, but they soon found a smoother
rhythm. As she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, she was
lost in the sensations flooding through her. When he lowered his head to
kiss her again, he nibbled on her bottom lip, and it was that action that sent
her over the edge. She could no longer think, but felt pressure building up
before it burst into vibrations that were sent throughout her body. Together
they both cried out, and as she lay back down on the bed, he collapsed
against her.
She felt the sweat on her brow, the dampness between her legs, and she
knew, with all certainty, that she would never be the same again.
“Are you all right, lass?” came the husky voice above her, one that
nearly sent her reeling once more.
“I am more than all right,” she replied, realizing how true her words
were. “I have never in my life felt so… alive.”
He chuckled with a grin. “I understand, lass, more than you know.”
“Is this what it’s always like?” she asked, staring up at him, seeing his
dark eyes dart from one side of the room to the other.
“I, ah, I wouldn’t know,” he said, pushing himself up from her and
covering her with the plaid he lifted from where it fell on the floor.
 “What do you mean?” she asked quizzically. “I am wondering — is it
different than with… with other women?”
He cleared his throat, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “That’s what I
mean,” he said. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh!” she said with a start. “You mean you — that is, I — you…”
“Aye, that was as much my first time as yours, lass,” he said, coming to
sit on the edge of the bed and gazing into the flames that licked the small
stove.
“But how can that be?” she asked incredulously. “A man like you—”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, turning toward her now.
“I mean, a man that is so….”
“So what?” he asked, and as she took in his slight grin, she realized he
was teasing her.
“Umm… good looking. Masculine. Charming — when you want to be,”
she said with a smile, though she was still very much surprised. It was not
at all what she had expected, and yet Adam seemed the kind of man to think
things through, and perhaps he had always just thought too long and never
taken the action required.
That he should choose her, though, for his first time, meant a lot to her,
more than she could likely ever show or tell him.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning over toward him and holding her palm
against his warm cheek. Their eyes met and held, until finally a bird’s call
broke the silence around them, and Rachel realized she could no longer hear
the pattern of the rain.
Gathering the plaid around her, she ran to the door and took a quick
look outside. The storm had passed, and in its place was the gentle stillness
that so often followed a rain shower. She looked up and saw color shoot
across the sky, and smiled in awe.
“Come, Adam,” she said, turning to see him retying his kilt. “It’s
beautiful.”
He came up behind her, his solid body at her back as he took in the
scene before him.
“Nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, running his fingers along her arm,
and she sighed contentedly as she leaned back into him. This had been the
most wonderful afternoon of her entire life, and she vowed she would
never, ever forget it.
 16

I t had been everything he could have wanted and yet nothing he would
have ever known to ask for.
After the storm had quieted, they had remained in the cabin for a
time, until Rachel’s clothing had dried enough that she could dress. Yet,
still, the air had somewhat cooled with the storm, and Adam saw her shiver
in spite of the sun that was now visible in the late afternoon sky. After
helping her onto her horse, he made sure the plaid was wrapped tightly
around her, and with a smile he left her and mounted Sloane.
As they made their way, now at a slow trot, the remaining distance to
Darfield, Adam’s thoughts raced. Rachel was such a contradiction. She was
small, yet so strong. She loved her pretty dresses and fine things, and yet
she wanted to know more about how things worked and seemed to be
determined to support herself if she must. She loved the affection of others,
and yet seemed to be so alone in her world.
And after everything, he kept asking himself — what was he to do
about her now? He had never felt this way about a woman before. There
had been women interested in him, of course, from the village or from
nearby towns. He had been to some of the big cities, but the women there
held no attraction for him. They were too pretentious, too concerned with
their place in society. When Adam invested himself in something, be it an
invention, a project, or, now, a woman — he did not take it lightly.
Everything he did, he put all of his time and effort into, and this was no
different.
 Except usually he planned so carefully, and with Rachel… with Rachel
it had been so unexpected. He had allowed his emotions to control him,
from the first time they had met. And without a plan, he now felt somewhat
adrift.
“Adam?” he heard Rachel call out to him, and he realized it had been
some time since they had spoken, as Darfield was already in sight.
“Aye?” he replied, looking back at her.
“You’ve been… quiet. I mean, I know that is normal for you, but at the
same time I just wanted to make sure everything was all right?” She spoke
softly, with hesitation, and Adam realized she likely had been questioning
herself to the same extent as he was, if not more so. He cursed. He should
have been more understanding, more reassuring following their time
together in the cabin.
“All is fine,” he said, trying to flash what he hoped was a reassuring
smile back at her. “How do you feel? I didna hurt your leg at all, did I?”
“I feel just fine,” she answered, though he could see the bright blush
creep up her cheeks. “Physically, I mean, more than fine. However, I do feel
somewhat… confused. What becomes of us now? What happens from
here?”
He reined in his horse so that they were side by side, allowing him to
look at her, truly look at her, while they spoke. He took in the crystal blue
of her eyes, which were now wide and searching, as if she expected him to
hold the answers to all of the questions that now plagued her.
“Do you think your father would allow you to stay here? If you should
want to, that is? I know you talked about working, and if you stayed here —
with us, with me — there would certainly be work, though perhaps not
exactly what you had in mind.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, and he swallowed hard. What was
he saying? Was he actually asking her to stay here with him — to marry
him? For that’s what it would mean, of course, were she to stay in the
Highlands because of him.
“I — I suppose I am asking you to—”
“Rachel!” The voice cut through the trees around them, causing them
both to jump. They had been so intent on one another and their conversation
that they had not heard the horse approaching.
“Darling, I have been ever so worried about you!” It was Vincent
Thompson, damn the man. If there were anyone he wanted nowhere near
the two of them in this moment, it was this man. And yet, here he was.
“Vincent,” she said, nodding her head at him as he rode up and stopped
shortly in front of them. “You needn’t have worried. I was in good hands.”
She smiled at Adam, and he thought he felt his heart stop beating for just a
moment. What was wrong with him? Never would he have thought that a
woman could have this sort of effect on him, especially an Englishwoman.
His brother Callum had married an Englishwoman and they had all thought
him slightly mad. Now here he was, pining over one himself.
“We knew you were to arrive today, and then the storm blew through.
We were worried, and I told your father I would ride out to see to your
safety,” he said, as he pulled the reins to lead his horse around so that he
came between Adam and Rachel.
“How did you suppose you would find me?” she asked him, looking up
with confusion. “And if you did, what could you have done that Mr.
McDougall could not have?”
He didn’t seem to have an answer to that, but simply held his somewhat
large nose high in the air and sent his horse forward toward Darfield.
“Thank you, McDougall, but I can take her from here,” Vincent said,
without so much as turning to look at Adam, though he could see Rachel try
to peer around the man to catch his eye. It didn’t seem she was as eager to
get rid of him, which he was grateful for.
“If you dinna mind, I will accompany you,” Adam said. “I have some
business to attend to with Rory.”
He did have to speak to Rory, but he also needed to find time to speak
with Rachel alone before she could leave.
Vincent shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that Adam’s activities were
of no consequence to him, and together the unlikely trio rode down the hill
into Darfield’s yard.
The great hall of the keep was rather loud with the many visitors, as
well as Darfield’s own servants bustling to and fro as they fed everyone in a
timely manner. As Adam entered, he nodded to Rory, who was standing
against the brick wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he kept an eye on
all that was happening in front of him.
Adam walked over to him, but before he could say anything, he was
intercepted by Rachel’s father.
“McDougall!” the robust man said, extending an arm toward him.
“Thank you for seeing my daughter home, though you are a bit tardy, are
you not? Well, never you mind. Come, have a drink with me. I have
business I would like to discuss with you.”
Business? Adam looked to Rory to see if he knew what this was about,
but Rory just shrugged his shoulders, looking as perplexed as Adam
himself. Trenton led him over to a place at one of the long tables, where
Vincent and Rachel sat. Adam really had no desire to sit with the three of
them, but he didn’t see any way of escape.
“Now, boy, I’d like to tell you a bit of our business,” he began, and
Adam raised his eyebrows. Boy?
“I know some of it,” he said slowly. “You own a power plant in London,
do you not?”
“I do,” said Trenton, seeming somewhat surprised Adam knew of him,
but waved his arm. “You know how the business works then?” Seeing
Adam nod, he continued. “We’ve made great inroads in the past couple of
years but as we grow, so do our competitors, who are numbered and just as
innovative. I’m looking to expand in ways that may not have been thought
of yet, particularly in the countryside. The type of power we generate would
never work there. Homes are spread too far apart. We need to think of a
way to create power more effectively. I think you can help us.”
Adam started in surprise. What Trenton said was true. His wind
machine certainly could help bring power to rural areas. But how had the
man known of it? He looked over at Rachel. There was no way she had
time to tell him of it, had she? He felt a twinge of ire at the thought of her
sharing his work with her father, though he hadn’t exactly asked her to keep
it a secret.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly at him, however, telling him
that no, she had not said a word. He looked back at the man, saying nothing,
but allowing him to continue.
“I should like you to come to London. Come share your work with my
partner. He will know more about how best to incorporate it into our
operations. You will be paid handsomely, of course, if anything should
come of it. Why, perhaps you can even join our business, could he not,
Thompson?”
Vincent did not look convinced, but remained silent.
“Father,” Rachel asked for him, as Adam sat there mutely, rather taken
aback at the conversation. “How do you know of Adam’s work?”
 “Adam? My, how we’ve become familiar with our hosts,” said Trenton
with a glint in his eye. “When I was at Galbury Castle I happened upon
some of his work. It was meant to be, I suppose!”
“You let yourself into my workshop?” Adam asked, gritting his teeth.
There was no way anyone at the castle would have allowed a stranger into
the building they knew Adam was so protective of.
“You could say I was led there,” the man said, letting out a bellow of
laughter which shook the jowls of his cheeks. “Come, now, my boy, does it
really matter? What matters now is the future! We have it within our reach.
We return to London in two days’ time. What do you say?”
Adam wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t trust the man, that was for
certain. Yet if what he said was true, this was an opportunity to make a
difference in the lives of many, to bring power to them and move them
forward in the future. For once, the countryside would not be left behind,
but rather, would be as advanced as the city folk.
“I would never work without being a partner myself and the Highlands
would have to be serviced first,” he finally said, not committing either way.
“But besides that, my invention… it’s not finished.”
“Aha!” said the man, pointing his finger and nearly jumping out of his
chair as if it he found the key to what he had been searching for. “That’s the
beauty of this! Together we can finish it. Together, we can find the answers
you are searching for, as I have the resources at my disposal to help. We
will create a partnership in its truest form. Will you come?”
Adam wasn’t sure what to say. There was something off about the man,
something that greatly bothered him — there had been since the moment he
arrived on their land. But then he looked at the woman sitting beside him,
her wide eyes framed by the petite face and freckles that had emerged from
her time in the sun to cover her nose. She looked at him, so hopeful, and he
realized he could not say no to her unspoken question.
“Aye,” he finally answered. “I’ll come.”
 17

A s the train clattered into the station, Rachel couldn’t help the mad
beating of her heart that seemed to be keeping time with it. When
her father had told her just weeks ago that he was coming to
Scotland, she had felt something calling to her from this land, a land she
knew hardly anything of. However, she could never have imagined what
would await her. Her life had changed so drastically in just a couple of short
weeks since she left the city she had always known, the city she had grown
up in. She had left as a girl and was returning as a young woman with a
man by her side.
Well, make that men, for Vincent was still persistently present.
However, she no longer cared, as long as Adam was there too. She wasn’t
sure exactly how deep her feelings for him ran. She was inexplicably
attracted to him — to his dark good looks, the mysterious smile that would
sometimes cross his face. And yet when he had asked her, in that moment,
to stay with him, she had felt a moment of panic.
It was too much, too soon. Rachel had always done what had been
asked of her, what was expected, despite the desire for something more that
always seemed to gnaw at her. Now that the more was here, she hardly
knew what to do with it, and she felt like a fool.
She had hardly seen Adam over the past two days. She hadn’t gone out
hunting, of course, and besides that, he was no longer leading the
expeditions. She wondered what his family was thinking of this venture. It
was only temporary, as far as she knew, but the McDougalls were so close
that it must have been hard for them to see him go, and on such short
notice.
She looked over at him, where he sat across from her in the dining car.
His dark eyes bore into her, and he gave her a half grin as he swayed back
and forth in rhythm with the wheels starting their slow grind over the
tracks.
Their time together in the hunting cottage, short as it was, almost
seemed like it had never happened. It was as if it were a dream, when time
had stood still and magic had brought them together. It had felt so right, so
predestined, and yet now in the reality of everyday life, it seemed almost
inconceivable that it had actually occurred.
Rachel was so mesmerized by Adam’s stare that it took her a moment to
realize Vincent was trying to get her attention.
“Rachel, love, have you forgiven me — for shooting you?” he asked,
and she looked over at him in exasperation.
“I’m not your love,” she muttered, but he acted as if he never heard her.
She saw Adam roll his eyes and she tried not to laugh. She needed to speak
with him again, though she wasn’t sure when she would have the
opportunity to be alone with him, what with her father and Vincent
watching her so closely. As nervous as she was about that conversation, she
also had to know if he felt something — anything — for her, and what that
might mean for their future.
“Did you bring all of your plans?” her father asked Adam, who nodded.
“I did,” he said, offering no more information.
“And your prototype?” her father pressed.
“Aye, sir.”
Adam might have come willingly with them, but he certainly didn’t
seem pleased about it. Rachel wondered at the situation — why exactly her
father had asked him to come with them, and why Adam had agreed. Her
father typically didn’t take on any more partners than he had to. Sullivan
Andrews basically ran the operation of the business, so her father needed
him, but otherwise… the situation made her nervous, anyway. Her father
was up to something.
Although she couldn’t say she wasn’t pleased Adam was coming back
with them. Was that — perhaps — why he had agreed? A tiny flame of
hope began to burn in her belly. Would he move to London to be with her?
Or was he merely trying to find the key to his invention? She knew he was
close to finding his answer. Perhaps this was what he had been waiting for,
an opportunity to collaborate.
She sighed. So many questions. Would she ever find the answers?

T HEY WERE about an hour away from Inverness when Rachel found her
head lolling back against the seat. She hadn’t slept well the night before, her
thoughts caught up in all that had happened, and now she was trying to fight
the sleep that threatened to overtake her. She fluttered her eyes open as she
heard her father and Vincent rise to join men playing cards at another table,
and she heard Adam’s low voice tell them he would be there shortly after
finishing his meal. For a moment she was alone, until she felt a hard thigh
press into hers.
“Rachel?”
She smiled. Was she dreaming? She loved hearing her name like that
roll off his lips. Her eyes sleepily drifted open, and she saw him next to her.
“Alone at last,” she murmured.
“Somewhat. Your father and Thompson are a few tables away, although
we will not be overheard. I thought perhaps we should speak about what
happened,” he said, casting his eyes downward.
Speak about what happened — the way he said it made it sound like it
should never have occurred. Was that why he had been asking her to stay?
Because he felt he had no choice, now that he had taken her innocence? She
would not agree with that. She was an equal partner in what had transpired
between them.
“You do not have to feel obligated to me for any reason,” she said
softly, her fingers clutching the soft muslin of her dress, a pretty one that
was also comfortable for travel. “What happened was… well, it was
absolutely lovely and breathtaking, and more than I could have imagined.
But that does not mean you should feel beholden to me.”
She looked up at him then, meeting his eyes, which showed no glimpse
of whatever emotion he was feeling.
“You have to know that it was more to me than a simple bedding,” he
said. “You must know that I would not take such an experience lightly. I
hope you understand.”
 She nodded, her heart beating as she was unsure of what to think, what
to say. Suddenly it seemed harder to take a deep breath at the intensity of
his gaze and the thought of what he might say next.
“Following this… foray into London, would you come home with me?
Back to the Highlands? Do you think you could live there, with me and my
family? I know it’s not the fancy city you’re used to. You would no longer
have as many pretty things, or the opportunity to buy all you wanted at
fashionable stores. But you would be valued. You would be — loved. My
family, I mean, they have so much love to go around. You saw how much
they enjoyed having you in their company. Peggy would be thrilled, would
she not?”
He looked at her expectantly, and her mind raced. He had said she
would be loved, true, but not once had he mentioned his own feelings.
Would he love her? He had not even asked her to marry him, simply to
come home with him.
“Would that mean that you and I….” she started shyly, not knowing
how to ask.
“Aye,” he said. “You and I would be together. Husband and wife. Would
you… consider it?”
“I… yes,” she said in a rush, feeling the smile break out on her face
before she could help it. The words came of their own accord as she
subconsciously overcame her fears because of her feelings for this man.
“Yes!”
His usually solemn face now grinned back at her, and they sat there
smiling at one another like a pair of fools until she finally had one thought
to add.
“We should, however, first speak to my father,” she said.
“Your father?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I know he has other plans for me, with Vincent,
to keep the company in the family, but he must understand by now that I
would not be happy with him. I do not think it would be too great a request,
as truly I am of fairly little consequence to him, but he has raised me, and
given me so much that it would not seem fair to simply leave him without a
word or a say in it all.”
He nodded, though his grin slowly faded. “If nothing else, I do
understand family obligation,” he said. “Though at some point you must do
what makes you happy as well. My eldest brother stayed in the Northwest
Territories with his wife. My father was displeased for a time but eventually
realized that Callum would not have been happy had he returned. His heart
was there, and not only with his new bride, but with the land as well.”
“We’ll give it a few days, after you have begun your business with him
— what do you think?” she asked.
“I think that sounds just fine.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the
lips, so quick she almost missed it. “I’d better go join them before they
come looking for me.”
And with that he was off, leaving her staring after him, her heart all
aflutter, her mind filled with visions of the two of them at home on the
Highlands. Was it truly possible?

“G ENTLEMEN ,” Adam said with a nod to Trenton and Thompson as he sat

across from them at the table. He could hardly stand either man, and yet if
this is what Rachel wanted, for him to have her father’s blessing, then he’d
do his best. Besides that, these men could help perfect his wind machine,
allowing him to improve the lives of so many people – people like his own
clan.
“Tell me, McDougall,” said Trenton as he flipped a card onto the table,
“Have you ever been to London before?”
“I have,” answered Adam, accepting his own hand.
“You must have felt somewhat… out of place, perhaps?”
“Somewhat,” Adam responded. “Though ’tis not much unlike hunting
the woodlands of the Highlands, now is it?”
Trenton gave out a humph, while Vincent looked at him with narrowed
eyes.
“Now, you must not worry about all the business dealings,” Trenton
continued. “I know it will be somewhat new for you. You must trust that I
will handle everything for you.”
Adam tried not to laugh at that. What did Trenton take him for? “Are ye
not the man I’ll be having business dealings with? I’m not sure that’s sound
advice.”
“You don’t think I would look out for you, boy?” Trenton asked, and
Adam tried not to let the anger simmering inside his belly show. How could
a woman as gentle, as beautiful both inside and out as Rachel, have been
raised by this man?
He said nothing, but gritted his teeth, picked up his cards and focused
on the game as he tried to block out Trenton’s voice and the din of the train
around him.
 18

A train ride had never felt so long. True, Adam had rarely been on
any train journeys, but when he had they certainly hadn’t felt so
abominably drawn out. The farther they got from the Highlands,
the less green he saw out his window, and the more he already longed to
return home, back to his family, his work, and his land. However, as soon as
he would begin to feel melancholy, he found solace by turning to look at
Rachel, reminding him of why he was doing this. All would be well until
Trenton or Thompson opened their mouths, and then his impatience would
grow once again.
He didn’t know how Rachel was continually able to shut them out. He
supposed she was used to it, and he wondered at her patience. Her gaze
would remain out the window at the passing landscape, except every now
and then she would turn and look at him with that knowing smile that Adam
cherished yet was worried would give them away. He had begun to realize
that it would take some time to prove himself to her father. Were Trenton to
find out Adam’s intentions too quickly, all would be lost.
When they finally pulled into London’s King’s Cross Station, Adam felt
his anxiety grow as he looked out the window. People milled about
everywhere, and he began to feel as if he was suffocating. He took deep
breaths as they filed off the train, and as the crush of bodies closed in on
him, he closed his eyes for a moment, the memories of the one and only
time he had been in London flooding back to him. Now he recalled just why
he so rarely visited Edinburgh or Glasgow. So many people in such a little
space made him feel such apprehension. Breathe, Adam, he thought, and as
he tried to focus he felt a light touch on his arm.
“Adam,” came Rachel’s soft voice. “Are you all right? Is there anything
I can do to help?”
He opened his eyes and saw her standing in front of him, concern all
over her face. He kept his gaze on hers, and it steadied him, helping him
slowly relax.
“I’m fine,” he said, managing a small smile which he hoped was
somewhat reassuring. “Perhaps I had a bad bit of food on the train is all.
Now, where have your father and Thompson got off to?”
“They went to find our luggage,” she responded. “We’d best hurry and
find them, however, before they get too far ahead.”
For a man who continued to claim a betrothal, Thompson certainly
didn’t pay much mind to ensuring her safety, thought Adam, as he and
Rachel wound their way through the crowd. He reached out and touched her
fingers, clasping them for a moment as she turned her head and flashed a
smile. He kept his eyes on her, not wavering to look about him to either
side, and while he could still feel the anxiousness in the pit of his stomach,
he managed to find his way to the baggage cart without incident.
He helped the men gather the bags, and soon enough they were out on
the street, calling for a hack.
“We’ll go to our townhouse, McDougall, would that do for you?”
Trenton asked him, to which Adam nodded. “I suppose you can stay in one
of our extra rooms for a short time. Should our arrangement prove to be
extended, we will find you a place to stay. Does that suit you?’
“Aye, and I thank you,” said Adam, to which Trenton shrugged his
shoulders. When neither Trenton nor Thompson made to help Rachel into
the hackney, Adam held out a hand to lead her inside. Trenton eyed him
warily but said nothing.
The townhouse that Rachel shared with her father turned out to be a
well-structured building, though Adam could see where repairs were
required, where paint had faded and furniture needed replacing. There were
few adornments on the walls of the foyer, the house seemingly fairly
utilitarian with minimal touches to make it a home.
“Would you like a tour?” Rachel asked, turning to him.
“I’m sure Jackson can see to it,” said Trenton, nodding his head at the
man who had opened the door to them. Adam assumed he was the butler.
 “Oh, but I don’t mind at all,” said Rachel with a smile. “Though if
Jackson should like to accompany us, he is more than welcome.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Thompson. “It wouldn’t be right for you to
be alone with a man who is not your fiancé, now, would it?”
“For heaven’s sake, Vincent,” she sighed. “But if you would like to
come with me, so be it.”
She turned with a huff, and Adam fixed a glower on the man as the two
of them began to follow her. The rest of the house turned out to follow
Adam’s initial impression until they came to the second-floor drawing
room.
“This,” said Rachel, “is my sitting area. Father hardly ever sets a foot
inside so I can do with it as I please.”
She opened the door to reveal a room that Adam would have recognized
as hers, even had she not said a word of it. The room was bright, with
paintings of landscapes adorning the brightly painted yellow-toned walls,
flowers in vases on the side tables needing refreshing upon her return, and a
comfortable-looking couch in a floral pattern sitting against one wall. There
was a small piano in one corner, as well as an easel.
“It’s lovely,” Adam murmured, “very much like you, Rachel.”
She blushed while Thompson eyed him with a look of unveiled
contempt. Adam could not understand why the man persisted in his pursuit
of Rachel. Could he not see that, as much as her father was pushing the
match, she did not want him?
Rachel walked them down a long hallway, pointing out the bedrooms
but not providing any looks inside. She finally stopped at the end of the
long hallway.
“I believe this is the room the housekeeper has prepared for you,” she
said to Adam. “Your bags shall be brought up shortly, and we’ll be having
supper in the dining room.”
She opened the door, and Adam looked into a room that was sparsely
furnished with a bedside table, water basin, and an old armoire that had
seen better days. The furniture was mismatched, and Adam wondered how
well Trenton’s business was doing, despite what he said of his success.
Power was a growing business to be sure, though it was rather new, and
Adam supposed that Trenton likely would have struggled over the years.
Rachel gave him a bit of a hesitant smile as though she could read his
thoughts. “I’m sorry it isn’t much,” she said. “I hope the bed should be
comfortable enough. You are welcome to join us in the drawing room or
parlor at any time, of course, so you shouldn’t have to spend much time—”
“Rachel,” said Thompson with exasperation. “Your father is providing
the man a place to stay, while also going above and beyond in business
dealings with him. There is no need for you to apologize. He should be
thanking you.”
Thompson crossed his arms and looked over at Adam, who was leaning
nonchalantly against the doorjamb.
“The room will do just fine, Rachel,” he said, ignoring Thompson while
looking at her and flashing a smile. “Thank you very much.”
Without a glance at Thompson, he pushed himself off the wall and led
the way back down the stairs to retrieve his belongings, already wondering
how soon he — they — could leave.

R ACHEL COULD NOT EXPLAIN the awkward feeling that had settled in her gut
as soon as they had arrived in London. Adam clearly was not comfortable
in the city. She had seen the moment of panic at the train station and was
relieved her father and Vincent hadn’t noticed it. It would have been
something they could use against him, which she certainly didn’t want.
Supper was a rather tense affair, with Vincent asking Adam all sorts of
questions, and he responding with his typical one-word answers. He had
seen to his own bags instead of allowing the sole footman of their
household to carry them upstairs, which had caused her father some
consternation. She was, however, beginning to grow tired of Vincent’s
constant presence.
Once Vincent had finally, blissfully left, Adam bid them goodnight and
headed to his room to take a final look at his plans before their meeting at
the power plant tomorrow. Left with her father, Rachel knew it was finally
time to put one item to rest.
“Father,” she said, taking a seat across from him in the drawing room in
an old, cracked, leather wingback chair. “I must speak to you about
Vincent.”
“Ah yes, Vincent,” he said. “Are you finally ready to set a date to wed
the man? The poor chap has been waiting for some time now!”
 “Father, I have told you before, and I would like to tell you for the final
time, I am not marrying Vincent,” she said with some frustration. “I can
hardly stand to speak to him, let alone marry him! I do not understand why
you are pushing this on me, nor why Vincent continues his attempts to court
me despite the fact I have been more than clear that I am not interested!”
She pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes during her
impassioned speech, and looked up at her father, whose face was becoming
more and more red as she spoke.
“Rachel,” he said, drawing out each syllable of her name as if she were
a simpleton. “Why are you fighting this? You and Vincent marrying will
secure not only the business, but our family’s future as well. Andrews and I
will not be able to run things forever, and Thompson will come on board as
a partner soon. In the meantime, you will marry him, and then I can be
assured you are looked after.”
“I appreciate that, Father, I do, but why does it have to be Vincent? Why
can I not find someone who loves me, and whom I love in return?” she
asked earnestly.
“Why… have you found that, daughter?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I — I’m not sure, Father,” she said, not wanting to say anything about
Adam until she had the business with Vincent squared away. “All I know is
that I do not love Vincent, and for as much as he may say so, he does not
love me in return. I would know if he did.”
“Love is not the most important thing, Rachel,” her father said back to
her. “What is important is that you will be looked after. Vincent has
promised to take care of you.”
“There is something more at play here,” she said, rising and looking at
him suspiciously. “Something you are not telling me.”
She stopped and leaned over the desk so that they were eye to eye. “Tell
me now.”
He looked up at her in surprise. She typically allowed him to have his
way, or at the very least win the arguments with her. After a time, he sighed
and waved at her to sit back down.
“Fine, then, Rachel, I will tell you if you must know, although why it is
important to you, I am not sure. What you should care about is that you are
being looked after. But, anyway. Thompson’s family, as I’m sure you know,
come from some means. His father owns a shipping company, which has
done quite well. However, Thompson has three older brothers, all of whom
are already working with their father. The eldest does not seem to want
Thompson working within the company, for whatever reason, but his father
wants to make sure his son is well taken care of. He approached me with a
proposal. Once Andrews and I have the power plant up and running,
making a reasonable income, they will buy it from us for Thompson to
manage, at a price that is more than it’s worth. We would then be able to
move on to something else, or live at our leisure if we’d like. They simply
had one stipulation.”
“Which was…?”
“Thompson had seen you before, of course, at the power plant as well as
at various events. He rightly decided you are quite beautiful. And so, he
determined that he wanted to have you as his wife. A deal was struck —
they will buy the power plant, likely in about a year’s time, you will
become Vincent’s wife, and we will all ensure you are well looked after for
the rest of your days. It is more than I ever thought I would find for you,
what with you being born out of wedlock and all.”
He sat back, a smug, satisfied smile on his face, as if he were quite
proud of himself for finding the answers to all of life’s quandaries. Rachel
could only stare at him as she tried to comprehend what he had just told her.
“You bartered my life for your company? For your own financial
prosperity?” She sat rooted to her chair, taking in the man she realized she
had never really known.
“Not your life per se, but yes, I struck the best deal possible! It’s what I
do, and Rachel, I do not see how you can be upset with this. I was only
thinking of you.” His jowls shook as he spoke, and Rachel could feel the
quiver of anxiety building inside her.
“But Father… how could you not have told me of this?” she asked,
trying to placate him and yet keep herself from agreeing to the situation.
“Surely, I deserved to, at the very least, know what was to become of me?”
“You knew what you needed to. Now I have been more than
understanding toward you, Rachel. I allowed you to come on this trip to
Scotland against my better judgment, and I turned out to be right! Do you
not realize that everything works out so much for the better when you just
listen to what your father says? For heaven’s sake, child, do you know, not
many men would raise a daughter on their own, but I did everything for you
— everything! Now the thanks I get is for you to question me thusly? I
cannot stand for it.” He pushed himself back from the desk and stomped
over to the door. “I have told you more than I should have and I cannot
stand for any further insolence!”
With that, he wrenched the door open, and was off; to where, she had no
idea.
Rachel sat, staring after him, turmoil in her heart. She had thought this
would be a simple discussion.
How wrong she had been.
 19

A dam rose early the next morning. He had stayed up late trying to
complete his design. It was nearly finished, and he was looking
forward to speaking with Trenton’s business partner, Sullivan
Andrews. Apparently, the man was the genius behind the business, the
partner who understood the inner workings of the operation of the plant. He
had been successful in other endeavors but had never had the interest or the
knowledge in running the business operations, according to Rachel. He and
Trenton had grown up with one another, and when Trenton began his
businesses, he and Andrews determined they could mutually benefit from
one another’s expertise. Hence, the partnership was born.
Trenton was rather surly at the breakfast table, while Rachel kept her
eyes downcast, not saying much at all. Adam wasn’t sure what it was about,
but he could feel an underlying tension in the room. He tried to catch
Rachel’s eye, but she would scarcely look at him. A slight uneasiness crept
over him, but Adam tried to push the feeling aside, wondering if perhaps he
was reading too much into this, and he returned to his room to gather his
plans and his prototype.
He and Trenton took a carriage to the plant. Adam tried to spend the
ride focused on the plans on his lap and not so much on the many people,
horses, and vehicles around him. Just get there, do your business, and
leave, he told himself. His thoughts were interrupted by Trenton’s voice.
“Tell me, McDougall, do you have a woman back home in the
Highlands?”
 “I do not,” Adam replied, uncertain as to where this conversation was
going.
“I must tell you that I am glad you are here, but I must make one thing
clear,” he said, his eyes taking on a steely glint. “I have seen the way you
look at my daughter. She, however, is not for you. Do you understand me?”
Adam was shocked at the man’s words, for he hadn’t realized Trenton
knew anything of the understanding between the two of them. “Did Rachel
say something to you?” he asked, though he was fairly certain she had
wanted to wait some time before speaking with the man.
“She didn’t have to,” he said. “She only told me she had no wish to
marry Thompson any longer. She will not, however, have a choice. This is
the way it is to be, and the sooner both you and my daughter realize that,
the better.”
Adam sat stunned for a moment, unsure of how to react or what to say
next. “But Trenton, I—”
Before he could say another word, the carriage drew to a halt and
Trenton had flung open the door, walking down the steps to the stone
building in front of them.
“The plant,” he said simply, by way of explanation, though it was fairly
clear to Adam where they were. Trenton led him inside as Adam’s thoughts
whirled around his head. He realized saying anything now would only
further turn Trenton against him. He would concentrate on business for the
moment and resume their discussion of Rachel at a later time.
It was fairly loud inside, as Trenton led him around the floor, which was
filled with sweat-soaked men. They finally stopped at the back of the plant,
where there sat a scarred oak desk, and behind it a man deep in
concentration, his head bowed over plans spread out in front of him.
“Andrews,” Trenton called out, causing the man to look up suddenly,
startled out of his concentration. “This is Adam McDougall, the man I was
telling you of. He’s brought with him plans for wind power that could be of
great benefit. Spare us a minute? McDougall, this is Sullivan Andrews, my
business partner.”
The man stood, and Adam reached out to shake his hand. Where
Trenton was short and wide, Andrews was tall and broad, clearly much
more used to physical efforts than Trenton. His face seemed kindly,
however, and the smile he gave Adam was genuine. It was somewhat a
relief after his dealings with Trenton, though he would see what it was like
actually working with Andrews.
Trenton led them into a workroom, where he bid them both to sit.
“Now, McDougall has a design that he’s nearly finished. I think we —
of course, more so you, Sully — can help him complete it, and of course we
have the means of distribution. Together, gentlemen, we can provide power
to all the countryside — what do you think of that? Now, McDougall, do
you think you can provide us those plans you were working on?”
Somehow, it didn’t feel quite right to simply hand over his designs to
the man, although wasn’t that why he had come all this way?
“Oh come, now, how are we supposed to get anywhere if you keep them
hidden away in your bags?”
Adam sighed, realizing perhaps he did have to let go. He nodded, then
pulled them out, spreading them out on the desk in front of him. He saw
Andrews’ eyes light up as he looked at them, and the man gazed at the
paper in front of him over his glasses, admiration coming over his face.
“How intriguing,” he said, running his finger over some of Adam’s
sketches. “Where did you think to create such a design?”
“Have ye ever been to the Highlands, Mr. Andrews?” Adam asked and
the man shook his head.
“No need for formalities. Call me Sullivan, everyone does. The answer
is no, however. Unfortunately, I have not had the pleasure. I’m a slave to
my work, you see, and she is an unyielding mistress.”
“Well, the wind blows through the Highlands with the same frequency
that you and I breathe. It’s a part of life. I had recently read an article in a
journal about power plants, such as the one you have here yerself. I was
racing through the wind one day and my mind began working, trying to
determine how we could process this energy into something else, some kind
of power source. You see where I’m stuck, however, do ye not?”
“I do,” said Andrews, nodding his head, and as he began to generate
ideas to help solve the problem, Trenton began retreating to the door. “I’ll
leave you to it, then gentlemen. We will all convene soon!” And with that,
he was out of the workroom, and Adam had an instant sense of how this
business operated. He was somewhat glad to be rid of the man, however,
and spent the remainder of the day entrenched in the workroom, deep in
conference with Andrews. He was impressed with the man’s knowledge and
the way his mind worked, and the time passed quickly. He nearly forgot all
of his worries regarding his future with Rachel and the fact that her father
— and Thompson — stood so firmly in their way.

A SLIGHT BREEZE rustled her skirts as Rachel walked along Bond Street, her
spirit lifted by the wonderful array of wares on display in the windows of
all her favorite shops. The Highlands held so much wondrous beauty, and
yet there was something about the thrill of a new bonnet or a beautiful dress
that called to her. She met her friend, Eloise, and together they entered the
shop of their favorite dressmaker.
“Oh, but would you look at this fine silk,” Eloise said, her eyes lighting
up as she trailed her fingers along a bolt of fabric hanging by the door.
“What a beautiful gown this would make, would it not?”
Rachel smiled at her in agreement, before coming to stand beside her.
“It would look most becoming on you, Eloise,” she said. “Perhaps it is
meant to be yours.”
“Perhaps,” her friend said, a smile upon her lips. Eloise’s father and
Hardwick were acquaintances. He was one of the newly rich, a man her
father had been trying to impress for years.
Rachel and Eloise had met at a function both of their families were
attending. They had gotten along fairly well, and while they would never
have a deep friendship, they had bonded over their affinity for beautiful
things and their love of the latest fashions.
“You must tell me about your travel to the Highlands,” said Eloise.
“What were the people like? What type of houses did they live in? Was it
all rather rugged?”
“It was… intriguing,” said Rachel. “I’ve never seen such beauty as the
countryside, and I saw everything from castles to basically shacks that
looked as if they were made of the earth. It’s like anywhere I suppose —
there are differing ranks and classes. The people there, however, were likely
the loveliest I’ve ever met. No matter how rude or horrid a remark was
made to them, they were lovely and gracious.”
“Our fathers — rude?” Eloise laughed, then added with a sly grin, “And
did you have some time to better get to know Vincent Thompson?” Rachel
knew that Eloise could not understand her hesitancy toward the man, and
continued to push the match on Rachel nearly as much as her father did.
“You will never believe this, Eloise,” she said, feeling rather justified
now in her opinions of the man, “But Vincent shot me.”
“He what?” Eloise whipped around and Rachel nearly laughed at the
look on her face. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I accompanied them on a hunting excursion, and Vincent got it in his
mind to go off on his own. He lost track of his surroundings and took a shot
that went right into my leg.”
Eloise stared at her as if she had grown another nose on her face.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am. I am still limping some.”
“Why, I did not even notice. Why ever would you go on a hunting
excursion?” she asked, irking Rachel.
“Why ever not?” she countered. “What would you expect? That I would
sit inside all day while the men went out? I wasn’t even actually hunting; I
was just sitting there on my horse!”
“Still,” said Eloise, her nose in the air. “I do not understand it. Surely
you cannot fault Vincent for that.”
Rachel shrugged, finished discussing this with Eloise. “I cannot say I
blamed him, but nor was he completely faultless,” she said. “Regardless, I
was well looked after and all is now fine.”
Eloise moved on from the subject as she walked toward the next dress
that caught her eye. “And tell me, are you and Vincent any closer to setting
a wedding date? Or, at the very least, officially announcing your betrothal?”
Rachel felt a twinge in her stomach at the subject. Since the
conversation with her father she had, of course, thought of little else than
her future. She had always been so sure that there was nothing to truly bind
her to Vincent besides her father’s preference. And now… she felt guilt at
thinking of anything but her father’s arrangement, and yet she was also
equally pulled to Adam and all he had to offer her. Everything her father
proposed made sense, from a practical side, and she owed her father for
keeping her, for raising her when her mother did not. Her heart, however,
had other ideas. Which was she to follow?
She sighed.
“No,” she said simply. “I must be going, Eloise. Can we revisit the shop
on another day?” She had, suddenly and certainly surprisingly, lost all
interest in the dresses before her, and wanted nothing more than to leave
Eloise and her probing questions and return home once more.
 20

T he next couple of days passed in a swirl of focus on work for

Adam, as he spent nearly all of his time in the power plant,
hunched over the desk in the workroom with Sullivan Andrews.
Adam enjoyed the man. He was intelligent, slightly absent-minded, and yet
together they worked in comfort, understanding one another with few words
required. They had built a second prototype, and Adam could feel they were
close to a breakthrough on the inner workings of the machine to generate
the power.
Adam had always discussed his projects and ideas with his brothers, but
they lacked the same interest and regard as a man like Andrews.
His evenings, however, were altogether different. Trenton, who Adam
rarely saw during working hours, blatantly ignored him, treating him almost
like an employee rather than any sort of business partner. Adam still
detested London, finding it so busy and crowded with the buildings
seemingly falling down on him from where they stood crammed together on
the congested, teeming streets. And Rachel… Rachel was difficult to read.
She seemed to have closed in on herself. She was still lovely as always, still
spoke with him and sent smiles his way, but it was as if the happiness didn’t
quite reach her eyes, like there was something more going on.
He had not spoken to her about their future together since the day her
father had warned him off in the carriage, and he needed to know where
they stood, yet it seemed there was never a moment when they were truly
alone.
 One night he retired to his rooms shortly after their evening meal, but he
could no longer focus on the work in front of him. Instead, he worried. He
worried about his family and how they were doing at home. He worried
over the duties he had left behind. And, more than anything, he worried
about Rachel. When they had been in the Highlands, everything had seemed
so right. And now they were like pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit
together quite as they should.
The house was still and silent, the few servants having left for the day,
as none of them lived in the house. Adam rose from his bed and quietly
opened his door, listening for movement in the hall or rooms beyond.
Hearing nothing, he slowly padded down the corridor in his stockinged feet,
before coming to a halt outside Rachel’s door. He had not been in her
bedroom before, of course, and if he were caught, there would certainly be
repercussions. But what would those be? Forced marriage? That was what
they wanted, anyway.
He tapped on the door so softly that he wasn’t sure that even Rachel
would hear it. He stood, his senses on full alert, and nearly jumped when
she opened the door.
“Adam?” she said quietly, surprise etched on her face as she pulled the
door open wider. “What are you doing?”
“I need to speak with you,” he said, realizing the words sounded much
more serious than he had intended as her face fell. “I just… I need to know
how things are between us.”
She nodded her head and bade him to enter. He swallowed hard at the
sight of her in her nightgown, long as it was. It completely covered her
from neck to ankle, but somehow even the small, perfectly formed toes that
peeked out the bottom seemed to call to him.
Her bedroom was an extension of the drawing room — bright, cheery,
and clearly thoughtfully designed. Her love of florals was evident, and he
made note to bring her a bouquet for one of the vases that lined the room. In
such contrast to his own chamber here, her bed was covered in a red floral
pattern, with matching drapes hanging above. She sat on the bed and he
perched himself on the window seat.
“How are you?” he asked suddenly, looking up at her, and she blushed.
“I’m fine,” she answered. “And you?”
“Fine as well,” he said. “Sullivan is a joy to work with, though I am
looking forward to completing the project and returning to the Highlands.”
 She nodded, though she had a bit of a sad look on her face.
“Do you — do you still want to come with me?” he asked, suddenly
afraid to look at her, fearing her response. When he finally did raise his
eyes, he saw she was looking off in the distance over his shoulder, perhaps
out the window — he wasn’t sure.
“I do want to,” she said softly. “I’m just not sure if I can any longer.”
He swallowed, trying not to show the emotion on his face. It was what
he had been afraid of, why he had put off asking her. He had felt it in the pit
of his stomach, and yet he hadn’t wanted to allow it out into the open.
He cleared his throat. “Can ye at least tell me why not?”
She sighed. “My father has an arrangement with Vincent’s family. They
will buy the power plant for a good price, allowing him to run it. In return, I
must agree to marry Vincent.”
“And you are going along with this?” he asked incredulously, shocked
at her words. “I thought you were always against marrying Vincent, despite
what your father wanted. How many times did you tell me so forcefully that
you were not marrying him? And now ye would change your mind, for your
father’s benefit?”
“I was against it and I was not going to marry him,” she said, looking
down at her clenched hands. “I didn’t know of this arrangement. And it’s
just that my father has done so much for me. He raised me. He provided a
roof over my head. He—”
Adam stood abruptly, walking over to her. He attempted to tamp down
his rising frustration. “And just because he did what any parent should, you
feel ye are indebted to him? That you must spend the rest of your life doing
what he wants of you?”
“No. Yes. That is, I — I don’t know.”
“Does he care nothing about how ye feel?” Adam asked, his voice now
hardly more than a whisper. “Tell me, Rachel, I need to know. How do you
feel?”
“I… I…” Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You
know how I feel,” she whispered, and raised her face to him, offering her
lips. His thoughts and all reason left him as he lowered his head, taking her
hungrily with a passion that had been building within him for some time.
She was all that he wanted, and yet it seemed she was slipping away from
him. He deepened the kiss, as if trying to convince her with his actions to
stay close to him. Could she not understand that she belonged with him and
not with a man who would suck the life out of her in too short a time?
Her hands came up and fisted in the front of crisp linen shirt that still
felt so foreign on his body, as was the entire world here around him. He ran
his fingers through her unbound hair flowing down over her back, the
waves soft in his rough, calloused hands. He pressed closer to her small
body, relishing the feel of her, the taste of her. She spun such a spell around
him, making him want more of her even when he knew there was such a
great possibility that he would have to say goodbye to her forever.
He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, tasting her sweetness and
loving every moment of it. She gave a soft moan into his mouth, and as
much as he wanted to continue, to take all that she had to give him,
somehow it no longer felt right, here in her father’s home, in the middle of a
city he hated, with a woman who would rather follow the wishes of her
father than her heart. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t fault her for
that. He understood the allegiance to family, as it was part of what he
admired about her. She was loyal to a fault.
He broke his mouth from hers, lifting his head but not pulling away,
resting his lips on her forehead, where he planted a sweet kiss before
bringing her head into his shoulder. He held her tight, and as he did, he felt
a slight wetness on his shirt. He pulled back to find silent tears running
down her face, and he gently wiped them with his thumb. He didn’t say
anything, as no words were required. She didn’t need to tell him this was
goodbye. He knew.

S LEEP REMAINED elusive for the rest of the night. Adam tossed and turned,
thinking of all that had happened. He did not regret making love to Rachel
in the cottage, but he did feel a deep sense of guilt that he had taken her
innocence without marrying her. It did not seem right, and yet he could not
very well force her to become his wife. His mind spinning, he rose from his
bed and pulled out his plans from his bag. He took them home with him
from the power plant every night, as he never knew when inspiration might
strike. Besides that, something within him prevented him from leaving them
there. He trusted Andrews, but Trenton… Trenton, he did not.
 As he sat there on the hard, cold bed, staring at them, he looked closely
at his drawing, picturing the inner workings of the model in his mind. If this
piece connected with that… he closed his eyes, trying to see how it would
all come together, when suddenly the answer sprang into his consciousness.
“Yes,” he whispered softly. “That’s it.”
He found his pencil and began stroking in the final piece that had so
eluded him. The despair that had gripped him from his encounter with
Rachel remained; however, it was ever so slightly edged out by a growing
elation over this project. He didn’t know what had made the final change
allowing him to see the solution, but he could hardly believe it had come to
him.
The next day he practically raced to the power plant to share his news
with Sullivan Andrews, not noticing who else was present as he rushed to
the man’s desk.
“Andrews! You will never believe it,” he said, as he pulled the plans
from his bag and spread them over the assortment of papers that littered the
man’s workspace. “I’ve got it!” Andrews looked up at him incredulously
while he skimmed his eyes over the work, bringing his gaze up to Adam.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve done it, son.” He grinned.
“You’ve done it!” He clapped his hands briefly, picking up the plans.
“Come, now. We’ll finish the model, and then can hopefully begin a
working prototype!”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Adam said, with a nod to the
man. “You helped me think it through.”
It was only then, when he turned to take his new plans into the
workroom, that Adam noticed Trenton standing at the entrance to the room,
leaning against the doorjamb. He hadn’t joined in the celebration, yet a
smug expression covered his face. What was the man about? Adam felt a
sense of unease, yet could do nothing but simply nod at him, before turning
to follow Andrews into the workroom.
 21

T he cloud of melancholy that had begun to follow her around left

Rachel feeling not at all like herself. She thoroughly enjoyed
keeping a rather sunny state of mind, and yet, since the
conversation with her father, she felt nothing but regret that the life that had
seemed so clear since her time with Adam in the woods had become so
dismally cloudy.
The more she was with him, the more she wanted him — for now, and
for the rest of her life. And yet, how could she so directly go against what
her father wanted, what he had been planning for her? Her father had given
her everything while her mother had wanted nothing to do with her. To
betray him now seemed the ultimate form of ungratefulness. So why did
following his expectations feel so wrong?
That morning, long after Adam had left for the power plant, Eloise
came to visit her. After she was shown into Rachel’s drawing room, she had
a smirk on her face as she sat on the armless green easy chair.
“Good morning, Eloise,” said Rachel, lifting the teapot in front of her
and pouring her friend a cup as she tried to inject cheer into her voice.
“Lovely of you to visit this morning.”
“How could I not?” asked Eloise, bringing the cup to her lips. “For I
could not help but come to congratulate you on your engagement.”
“My engagement?” Rachel looked up at her in surprise.
“But of course,” said Eloise, raising her eyebrows. “It was in today’s
paper. Surely you must be aware?”
 “No… I have not yet had the chance to read the paper,” she said, her
heart sinking. It would be just like her father to post the announcement
without even telling her about it. She rose, walking over to the side table
where the papers were piled. She had honestly not even looked at them the
past few days, so caught up was she in her own melodrama.
She opened the page to the announcement section, and there it was, in
print in front of her face. Hardwick Trenton, owner of Trenton Andrews
Power Plant, was proud to announce the engagement of his daughter,
Rachel Trenton, to Vincent Thompson, son of Bosworth Thompson and a
recent partner in the business. Vincent had been made partner? Then Rachel
realized that was the least of her worries. Her engagement was now public,
for all of London to see, and she had not even agreed to it. Anger began
rising in her chest, and she made for the door to find her father and tell him
exactly what she thought of his—
“Is it what you expected?” Eloise’s voice cut in, and Rachel suddenly
remembered the woman, who was all smiles as she sat at the table, looking
at her in a way that said she knew exactly what was at play here, that
Rachel had no say in this. Yet Eloise seemed somewhat pleased by the
entire situation, and it made Rachel’s skin crawl.
“Yes,” said Rachel, pasting a smile on her face and returning to her seat.
“It was.” She sipped her tea, biding the time until Eloise left. She would not
show the woman an ounce of weakness, but would instead wait until she
left to determine her next actions.

H AVING CONCLUDED a productive morning completing the model, Adam

leaned back from the worktable with a feeling of satisfaction. Andrews
gave him a similar nod of approval as they reviewed the work in front of
them.
“Have you spoken with Trenton regarding your compensation?”
Andrews asked, looking at him over the tops of his glasses.
“My compensation?” asked Adam. “My partnership, you mean?”
“Partnership?” echoed Andrews, concern wrinkling his forehead. “He
never said anything to me regarding a partnership. No, as far as I was
aware, he was going to pay you for your work and for the design. In fact,
Thompson has recently been made a partner in the business, and I know
Trenton was not interested in any further divesting of shares. I’m sorry, son,
I thought this was the agreement you had come to with him. It seems I was
wrong… or perhaps Trenton mislead one of us.”
The unease that had been simmering in Adam’s gut regarding this
arrangement began to slither up his belly and into his throat. So, Trenton
meant to keep him out of future profits, did he?
“Excuse me, Andrews, it seems I need to have a word with the man.”
He shoved open the door before making his way to Trenton’s office,
entering without knocking. The office was empty, though the cup of coffee
steaming on the desk told him the man hadn’t been gone long and should be
returning shortly. Adam sat in the chair in front of the desk, arms crossed as
he stewed, waiting for Trenton to return. Who did he think he was, cutting
him out like that? Although, he realized, he partially had himself to blame.
He had known from the beginning what kind of man Trenton was, and he
should never have trusted him at all.
As he sat tapping his foot, his eyes wandered around the office, as stark
as the man’s home. His gaze fell on the desk, where he saw papers strewn
about with… designs and writing that looked intimately familiar. He rose,
coming around the desk now to take a closer look at what Trenton was
working on. They were patent application papers. He had seen them before,
having considered filling them out himself for other inventions. He picked
up the first page, seeing the information on the front of it. As his eyes
skimmed the script, his ire began to grow, his naivety sickening him. In the
application information, not once was his name mentioned. This was not a
partnership at all. Rather, Trenton was taking the ideas for himself. Adam
felt like he was going to be sick. This had all been a ruse, a ploy for the man
to take his idea and use it for his own means.
Adam picked up the papers, clenching them tightly in his fist as he
turned to the door when it suddenly burst open.
“What do you think you are doing in here on your own?” Trenton asked,
his jowled cheeks vibrating with his words.
“Waiting for you,” Adam answered, not backing down an inch. “What
do you think you are doing, stealing my work, presenting it as your own,
and not offering me any of the initially agreed upon partnership or profits?”
“Partnership? Ha!” Trenton said, throwing his back and laughing. “Did
you honestly ever expect I would partner with a man like you? A Scot from
the backward Highlands? Truly, the idea is laughable. And it is not your
invention. The plans were made right here in my power plant. I will pay
you for your time, as an employee of my business. You will have little
means to prove this is anything other than that. I must thank you, however.
You have advanced my little company far beyond what I ever thought it
could be!”
He rubbed his hands together gleefully as he pushed past Adam to
round his desk. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his checkbook and
a pen. He scratched something onto it then held it out to Adam.
“Here. A week’s honest work. It is a little more than you would have
received leading a hunting group around your woods, no? Anyway, take it,
enjoy it, and I hope to never see you again. You should be able to make the
evening train. We’re celebrating my daughter’s recent engagement tonight,
so there is no need for you to stay.”
At that, Adam froze, turning around to stare at the man.
“Oh, that’s right, you thought you had something with her too, did you
not?” He laughed again. “My, you think rather highly of yourself. She asked
me to say goodbye to you. She is certainly a good girl, that one. Why, she
has proven herself so helpful to our business. I am sure she will continue to
be equally agreeable as wife to Mr. Thompson.”
Adam no longer cared if he showed his true feelings, nor his
vulnerability. He only cared for the truth.
“Rachel knew of this plan?” he asked, his voice wooden.
“But of course!” Trenton said, his face full of mirth. “She was, in fact,
the one who suggested you come to London with us. She is a much smarter
girl than she lets on, is she not? Leave those papers where you found them,
will you Mr. McDougall?”
Adam looked at him in the eye, holding his gaze as he slowly, carefully,
ripped the papers in half once, twice, and three times before following suit
with the check.
“Ah well, I can always draw them up again, never fear,” said Trenton
with a wave of his hand. “Farewell, Mr. McDougall! It has been a
pleasure!”
His voice followed Adam as he shoved open the door, storming through
the building and out into the busy streets of London. He looked around him
in disgust. He wanted nothing more to do with this city, this family, or this
business. He was a complete, utter fool. All he wanted now was to collect
his things and go home. He could think of nothing else but to return to the
Highlands and be rid of this blasted place.

R ACHEL HAD SCARCELY finished showing Eloise out the door when she
heard a knock come once more on the front entrance.
“My goodness,” she muttered, as she assembled the teacups back on the
tray. “What in heaven is happening today?”
Her heart fell further when Jackson showed in her apparent fiancé.
“Vincent,” she said in surprise, “What are you doing here? It is the
middle of the work day!”
“Ah, but I couldn’t wait one more moment to hold my fiancée in my
arms, now that we are finally, officially betrothed.”
Anger simmered in Rachel’s belly as she looked him square in the face.
“Did you know about this? The public engagement that I have never
actually agreed to?”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. “Your father suggested it and I agreed
that it was an excellent idea.”
“And neither of you ever thought to ask me?”
“Does it really matter?” he asked, picking up her cup of tea and
finishing it himself. “The end result would be the same.”
“But—”
“Come here, darling,” he said, reaching out a hand to her.
“No, I’d really rather—”
Her words were cut off as he pulled her to him, his mouth coming down
hard on hers. She was so taken aback, she hardly knew how to respond. His
lips were cold, his kiss unfeeling, unlike the warm, loving kisses she had
shared with Adam. How she longed for his touch instead, which brought
warm feelings of pleasure through her body, rather than the cold slither of
ice chilling her through from Vincent’s touch.
She reached her hands between them, positioning them on his chest. She
pushed with all her might, and while she didn’t move Vincent far, she did
manage to put space between their bodies.
“Vincent, I—”
Movement at the doorway caught her eye. “Adam?”
 She heard the tread of his boot on the wooden floor as he continued past
the doorway and strode down the hallway, and, forgetting all about the man
in front of her, she raced after him, her slippered feet barely making a noise
as she ran up the stairs, following him to his bedroom.
“Adam!” she gasped. “Stop.”
“I’ve seen enough,” he said, keeping his back to her as he found his bag
and began throwing the few items of clothing he had brought with him into
it.
“Where are you going?” she asked as he moved about, seemingly in
great haste.
“Home,” he said curtly, and her eyes flew up from his bag to his broad
figure.
“Home? Back to the Highlands?”
“Of course. Where else would you figure my home to be?”
“But I — Adam, what you saw in the parlor, I did not ask for it.
Vincent, he came and he took me aback, it was so sudden, and I — I was
pushing him off me when you entered. It was not—” She stuttered as she
somehow felt the need to tell him the truth of the matter so that he would
know where her heart still lay.
“You need not explain anything about that to me,” he said, his voice an
emotionless tone that seemed to dismiss her as if she meant nothing to him.
“I knew you were to marry the man. It was not unexpected.”
“Then why are you so angry? Why are you leaving?”
“Why do you think?” he turned around and faced her, his face tight with
anger and emotion, all now trained on her. “I know, Rachel. I found the
patent letters on your father’s desk. Tell me, was anything you felt for me
real? Did you really think you had to sleep with me, to pretend to love me,
in order to get what you wanted?”
She reeled back at his words, in utter shock at his anger. Who was this
man who would speak to her like this? Why was he being so cruel?
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to remain
stoic. “I made love to you because I wanted to and for no other reason. I
thought it was a good idea for you to come here in order to help you with
your invention. I don’t know what papers you are speaking of, but I have
nothing to do with that. I have no part of my father’s business, as he will not
share any of it with me. And whatever it is you think I did, there is no
reason to speak to me as you are.”
 “Your father has told me the truth, that you helped lure me here in order
for him to steal my work.”
She gasped. “I would never do such a thing. Is that what he told you? Is
that what he’s doing?”
“He is,” he said, and hefted his bag on his shoulder. “Now will you get
out of my way?”
She stood as tall as she was able, coming as close to eye-to-eye with
him as she could. “You should know me better than that,” she said, trying
not to allow the tears to form in her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her
throat. “I would never, ever do that to you. If you actually believe such a
thing, well, there is nothing I can do about that but feel sorry for you.”
“Goodbye, Rachel,” he said, pushing past her, down the stairs and out
the door. All she could do was simply gape at him as she watched him
leave.
 22

A s the train pulled into Inverness, a sense of calm settled over

Adam’s soul. Never again, he vowed. Never again would he leave
the peace of his homeland for a city full of people who cared for
nothing but their own lives. Never again would he work with another who
might steal his work away from him. And never again would he trust a
woman with a pretty face, gentle words, and kind, open eyes. He had been a
fool, but he would learn from this lesson.
As his parents and siblings were not aware of his imminent arrival, he
was fortunate to find a ride with a family headed in the direction of
Aldourie. He did his best to remain somewhat friendly with them and left
them with a wave as he disembarked and walked the remaining miles to his
home.
When he entered the front door to find his family gathered around the
table for dinner, a tear nearly fell from his eye at the familiarity of it all.
“Adam!” his mother exclaimed as she rose from the table and came to
envelope him in her arms. “What a surprise! We had no idea you were
coming home so soon, though it is absolutely wonderful to see you.”
The joy at seeing his family was stalled for a moment as he thought of
Rachel, but all it did was cleave a hole in his heart, and he pushed her from
his mind. No, he was home now, returned to all he knew, all he loved, and
he would put London — the city and the people — far behind him. He
forced a smile on his face as he hugged his mother back, deposited his bag
in the corner, and took his regular seat at the table after grabbing a plate and
beginning to fill it.
 “It was a surprise to me too,” he said. “My business there concluded
sooner than I had thought, and you know how much I hate the city.”
“What happened with the wind invention?” asked Roderick, as Adam
tried to ignore the concern he could see etched on his family’s faces.
“It’s finished,” he said, feeling ashamed at how he had been deceived
and not wanting them to know of it. “At least, my role in it. I worked with
Trenton’s partner, and together we came up with the piece of the solution I
had been searching for.”
“That’s wonderful!” said Kyla. “You must be thrilled!”
“Yes,” said Adam, forcing a smile on his face once more. “I am.”
“You don’t seem very excited,” Peggy said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“What happened with Rachel?”
“Rachel? Nothing at all,” he said, shrugging a shoulder and feigning
nonchalance.
Peggy snorted. “We’re not stupid, Adam, we know you had something
with her.”
“Hush, love,” their mother said, though Adam cringed at her concern as
it would clearly mean questions to come later. “Dinna bother your brother.
Let him enjoy his meal.”
Adam sat, silently forcing himself to eat as he felt the stares of his
family upon him. Suddenly here, surrounded by everyone he loved, he had
never felt so alone.

R ACHEL PACED HER BEDROOM . She was usually fairly even-tempered, but
never in her life had she been so angry — at Adam, at Vincent, and most
especially at her father. Men. Always thinking they knew everything, that
they could play her as they wished. She was done with it.
After Adam had left, she refused to go downstairs for dinner, feigning a
stomachache. She felt like a coward, staying in her room to wallow in self-
pity, but she didn’t know what she would even say if she went downstairs.
Her engagement had been announced, but could she truly spend her life
with a man whose kisses made her want to be sick?
The next day, once the house was quiet, she dressed in a simple blue
muslin and after eating a quick croissant from the kitchen, she slipped out
the door and hailed a hackney. She gave the driver the address of her
father’s power plant. If nothing else, she was going to determine what had
happened, and she knew there was only one man who could — and would
— give her truthful answers. Sullivan Andrews.
When she disembarked, she squared her shoulders, willing herself to be
strong, to not make any rash decisions until she had discovered the truth.
Thankfully, her father and Vincent were nowhere in sight as she entered
the power plant, where she made her way around the huge machines and the
men that stared and nodded at her, until she came to the desk where she
knew she could always find the man.
“Sullivan?” she said softly, not wanting to startle him. He was always so
focused that he never heard anyone approaching.
“Oh!” He looked up, jumping anyway. “Rachel.” His face broke out
into a smile. “How are you?”
“I’m not sure,” she said truthfully.
“No?” he asked, his strong, dark eyebrows drawing together as his eyes
roamed over her face.
“Sullivan, what can you tell me of the agreement between you and my
father and Ad— Mr. McDougall?”
“I cannot say I know much of the agreement, my dear,” he said, sitting
back in his chair and winding his pen between his fingers. “I worked with
McDougall on the actual invention itself — that boy has a brilliant mind, I
will tell you. I was quite impressed, and that doesn’t happen often. Anyway,
Hardwick had always told me we were paying McDougall for his work,
both for the intellectual property as well as his time with us. I mentioned
this to McDougall just yesterday that he should follow up with Hardwick to
determine all that was agreed upon, and I haven’t seen the lad since. I
assumed Hardwick paid him and he returned home, although I have to say I
am a bit put out that he didn’t bother to wish me farewell. I thought we had
become friends of a sort.”
Rachel nodded, a lump in her throat. It was as she had thought. Her
father had manipulated Adam, lying to him in order to access his idea and
then take it for himself. She sat mutely in front of Sullivan, unable to put
into words what she was feeling. Oh, how betrayed Adam must have felt.
As much as she still somewhat resented the fact that he thought her to be
complicit in all of this, in the same breath she could now understand his
reaction to it all. He had been duped by the lot of them. And now, not only
had she reneged on her promise of marriage, but her father had taken from
him something he had worked so hard for.
“Was that not what McDougall was told?” Sullivan asked, his gravelly
voice cutting through her thoughts.
“No,” she said, shaking her head morosely. “Not at all. Adam was told
he would be made a partner. Not in the company, but in this venture. That
the three of you would come to a solution and then put it into practice, with
all of you seeing the profits. Not that Adam was particularly concerned with
making money off of this. He was more focused on ensuring that people
could benefit from his work. He agreed to come only because he saw it as a
way to put his work into practice and also… also…”
“Perhaps we should take our conversation into the workroom,” said
Sullivan quietly. “There are fewer ears in there.” He ushered her into the
room around the corner, and as she sat at a stool, she looked at the tools and
the metal strewn about the table in front of her and realized this is where
Adam had been working so diligently for the past couple of weeks. He had
been here, likely where she was sitting. It made her feel close to him again,
yet still so far away.
“Did Mr. McDougall come to London because of something to do with
you, my dear?” asked the man who had known her since she was a child,
and was almost more of a father figure than her own flesh and blood. He sat
across from her at the table, his kind blue eyes taking her in with such
compassion that she wanted to weep.
“I… we… yes,” she said, bowing her head as she tried to keep the tears
from falling. “When I was in the Highlands we… we spent time together
and we fell for one another, I suppose you could say. I thought he was my
future. All I asked was that my father bless our marriage and he did not, of
course. No, he is bent on me marrying Vincent. As much as I wanted Adam,
how could I go against my father’s wishes after all he has done for me? He
raised me when my own mother gave me up. If I say no to the marriage,
then all plans for your business are ruined.”
“Plans?” asked Sullivan, a frown coming over his face. “What plans are
you referring to?”
“Why, the plans for the Thompson family to buy your business, for
Vincent to take over,” she said in surprise, thinking that Sullivan would
know exactly what she was speaking about.
 “That’s interesting,” he said slowly. “Particularly since this is the first I
am hearing of such.”
“Oh,” she said, her mouth rounding and her eyes widening. “Oh, dear.
Was I not to speak of it? I assumed that because you and my father were
business partners—”
“We are,” he said, standing and beginning to pace back and forth. “And
yes, because we are business partners, you should have been free to speak
of it with me, as I should have known of such a plan. What the hell is
Trenton up to now? Oh, excuse me, Rachel, I should not have spoken such
in your presence.”
“It matters not,” she responded, in shock that her father would treat the
man who was responsible for all of his success in such a way. “I am sorry,
Sullivan. I know my father can be deceitful but this…”
“Is unforgivable,” he finished. “As is what he did to your Mr.
McDougall.”
“He’s not my Mr. McDougall any longer,” she said in hushed tones.
Sullivan walked over to her, lifting her face to look at him. “Do you not
love him, child?”
“No,” she said immediately. “How can I love a man who would suspect
me of such treachery? I understand his thoughts but still…”
“How do you feel now that he is gone? Do you think of him?”
“Do I think of him?” she asked, looking down, her eyes tearing up of
their own accord. “I do more than think of him. I see him everywhere I go.
Every time I turn a corner around a street, I expect him to be there. Every
time I walk down the corridor of our home I expect he will be awaiting me.
Every time I walk into a room, I want to see his smile. Even now, I can
almost feel his presence in this room, and yet the fact that he is not here… it
makes me feel utterly bereft.”
“And yet you say that you do not love him?”
“Oh bother, of course I love him!” she burst out, the tears now flowing
down her cheeks, and yet she felt no shame. “I love him with every cell of
my being. And yet I have tried so hard to deny it, to push it away so that it
does not hurt quite so much when I come to the realization that I shall likely
never see him again. Yet I will think of him for the rest of my life.”
“Rachel,” Sullivan said, placing one hand on her shoulder as he handed
her his handkerchief. “You have been a wonderful daughter to your father.
You have supported him, you have done his bidding, you have kept his
house for him. But to give up the rest of your life because of a deal he made
without your knowledge goes above and beyond what any parent should ask
of their child. Be happy, my dear. Find your man and do what gives you the
most joy in your heart.”
Rachel began crying earnestly as she launched herself into his arms,
tears flowing into the shoulder that smelled like tobacco and dusty
bookshelves.
“He will never take me back now. He believes I was part of a scheme to
bring him here and steal his plans,” she said, wiping her eyes and nose as
she pushed away from him.
“I think, when he truly considers the issue, he will realize that you could
never betray him like that,” said Sullivan gently. “And besides, that — I
have a plan.”
 23

F or the first time since he had returned from London, Adam stepped
into his workroom and looked around it in silence. It was near
completely bare now but for wood shavings and the odd piece of
metal he hadn’t seen fit to use sitting on or under the table. He was typically
fairly particular in keeping his space tidy, but he had left in a rather bit of
haste. It had only been a few weeks, and yet it seemed like it had been a
lifetime ago that he had held such high hopes for both his work and his life
with Rachel. Now the emptiness of the room reminded him of all that he
had lost.
He sighed as he threw his bag on the table, emptying it of the contents
he had managed to bring back with him. His mind was as blank as the
workspace when he tried to think of what next to work on. Clearly, anything
regarding his wind model was no longer an option, as Trenton would have
the patents on it. If nothing else, the man had enough guile to cover
anything that might be required to keep Adam from having any sort of
claim to the invention.
He turned around and leaned back against the table, looking out the
building’s lone window at the hills beyond. At the very least, he was back
where he belonged.
His attention was directed to the door as he could hear footsteps
approaching. Not the heavy footsteps of one of his brothers, but the light,
skipping pattern he would recognize anywhere as his sister’s. The girl never
walked anywhere, he thought with a grin, but rather ran or floated her way
through life.
 “Adam!” she exclaimed as she came sailing through the door. “I thought
I might find you here.”
“Find me you did,” he said as he pushed away from the table and stood
to face her, knowing what was to come. “Is there anything I can help you
with?”
“We just haven’t had any time alone since ye returned—”
“I only returned yesterday.”
“Aye, but still,” she said, determined to say whatever it was she had
come here to say to him. “You must tell me what happened, Adam. Tell me
all of it. And not just about your wind invention, but about Rachel. And
don’t try to tell me there was nothing, because I saw the way the two of you
stared at each other, thinking no one was looking. You have feelings for her,
I know you do, and I know she feels the same for you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Peg,” he said, as he pulled the two stools
of the room from under the table and carried one over to her. “Sit. ’Tis a
long story.”
He told her, then, of all that had transpired, leaving out their activities in
the hunting cottage, of course. He told her of what he thought he and
Rachel had felt for one another, of the proposal her father made to him, and
his decision to travel to London. She knew most of that, but when he told
her of their marriage agreement she gasped, light coming into her eyes
before seeing his expression. For once, she sat and listened, as Adam spoke
more words than he likely ever had in one sitting before. Somehow, as
much as he had tried to bury the whole situation, it felt good to say it all out
loud, to put it out there and get it off his chest. Peggy, for her part, made for
a rapt audience, tearing up when Adam told her of Rachel’s decision to do
her father’s bidding and marry Thompson, gasping when he told of
Trenton’s betrayal.
“So I came home,” he finished. “Where I never should have left.”
“Oh, Adam,” she said softly, her eyes full of tears of pity for him that he
didn’t want. “I’m so sorry. What a despicable man.”
“He is,” he said, nodding in agreement.
“But are you absolutely certain of Rachel’s involvement?” she asked
hesitantly.
“What do ye mean?” he said, not answering her question.
“It’s just that, when she was here, she was so sweet, and so wonderful,
and I could tell how much she not only admired you, but seemed infatuated
with you,” she said. “And not only that, but she told you about Vincent and
her decision to follow her father’s wishes. Do you really think she would
have given you that information if she knowingly betraying you?”
He shrugged. “When I returned to the house she was in his arms.”
“Did she say anything about that?”
“She tried. I wouldn’t let her — what is there to say when actions speak
louder than words?” he asked, as he tried not to let Peggy’s own words
sway him in any way.
“I just think, Adam, that perhaps ye should have given her the
opportunity to explain herself. She may have known nothing of her father’s
plans and was as shocked as you were. She was probably betrayed by the
fact you would think she was capable of such.”
“Peggy, why are ye speaking to me of this if you are only to take her
side?”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” she said. “I am simply pointing out that
perhaps there is another option ye never considered.”
He nodded, not wanting to listen to her words, but they slowly
penetrated his consciousness anyway.
“Adam… have you ever considered just why ye’re so angry at her?”
“What do you mean?” His head snapped up to her face, which was
awash with sympathy for him.
“You wanted to marry this girl, and suddenly she told you she was
going to marry another. No matter her reason, that must have hurt. Did ye
perhaps so easily believe she had betrayed you in order to provide an outlet
for your anger? When you love someone—”
“I dinna love her.”
“No?”
“No, I simply… cared for her.” He uncrossed his arms and began pacing
back and forth over the worn wooden floor in front of her.
“I dinna believe you would have such deep emotions for someone you
simply cared for,” she said softly.
He rubbed his temples. “I don’t know, Peg. I just… dinna ken what to
do.”
“Well,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “What do you admire
about her? What made you want to marry her?”
He sighed. “I admire her gentle spirit. She appreciates the beauty of life,
be it a lovely dress, the crystal of our loch or rain falling from the sky on a
cloudy day. She has not an opposed word to say about anyone, be it her
father or even the fiancé I know she dreads. She sees the best in everyone.
And she has a loyalty unlike any I’ve ever seen. While ’tis the reason we
are apart, I also admire her for it.” He paused for a moment, reflecting on
the words that had come unbidden from his mouth. “Damn it. I do love
her.”
Peggy let out a stifled giggle, and he looked up at her to see what she
found so humorous.
“Oh, Adam,” she said, and he could see the smile she tried to hide
behind her hand. “Never have I seen a man so angry to discover his love for
another.”
“What does it matter?” He shrugged. “’Tis not as if anything will come
of it.”
“Adam,” she said, hopping off her stool and walking over to him. “Do
you know, before she left back to London, she gave her beautiful fine
dresses to the women of the village? Molly and some of the others had
expressed such envy over her garments that she gave them all away. And
when she was here, we had so much time together. She told me of her hopes
and dreams. She wants love, Adam. She’s a romantic. She lives by her
emotions, wanting to spend her life in the arms of a man who will love her
in return. That vile man you say is now her fiancé — the man who shot her,
Adam — he is not that man. You say she is loyal, but you must make her
understand that there is more to life than that. Save her, Adam. Be her
knight in shining armor. Sweep her off her feet, and throw her over your
mighty steed, bringing her back to the castle where she belongs.”
“Oh Peggy,” he said, with his first laugh since his return to the
Highlands. “You are the romantic, sister. But you’re right. You’re right!”
His heart began to race. He would never admit it to his sister, but he had
been a fool. While Rachel was loyal to a fault, she was too kind, had too
gentle a spirit, to have ever conspired against him. She was too honest, and
he had taken his anger out on her. If nothing else, he needed to apologize to
her, to tell her how he truly felt. If she still decided to resign her life to that
of a martyr, then so be it. But he had to do what he could.
“And maybe, if you return, you can get your wind design back?” Peggy
asked hopefully, brightness coming into her eyes.
“Trenton can have the wind machine,” he said. “But his daughter… his
daughter I will fight for. Even if it means I must remain with her in London,
I— I’ll stay there with her.”
“But you hate, London!” said Peggy, a troubled look coming over her
face. “And your family is here!”
“I do and ye are,” he agreed. “And of course, I would love nothing more
than to return here to you, with Rachel by my side. But… but I dinna ken if
I can live without her.”
“Then that,” said Peggy, smiling at him despite the tears in her eyes, “is
true love. I’ll pack you a lunch.”
And with that, she marched over, enveloped him in a huge hug, and then
walked out the door, leaving it open behind her.
 24

T he plant was never silent, but it certainly wasn’t as busy at midnight

as it was during the daylight hours. Rachel tiptoed quietly along the
floor in her leather-soled boots, following Sullivan Andrews
through the back door and down the corridor, where he unlocked the door to
her father’s office.
“My father allows you to have a key?” she whispered softly over his
shoulder as he pushed open the door.
“No,” he responded. “I had one made when we first moved into the
building. I felt it was prudent to have two copies of each key made in case
of an emergency. I suppose this situation can be considered as such.”
Her eyes widened as she took in the man she had known for so many
years. He had always been her father’s opposite, and while she knew the
two of them had never really gotten on as friends, they worked together
well, each filling the role required for them. For Sullivan to do this for her,
behind her father’s back, well… she would be forever grateful.
They entered the office, Sullivan lighting a candle so as to not shed too
much light over the room, and they made their way toward the desk.
Sullivan sat behind it, picking up the pile of papers and beginning to sort
through them.
“What are those?” she asked softly.
“Your father had me complete another set of the plans for the invention,
as your Adam destroyed the papers he found,” said Sullivan in a low tone.
“I saw him once again filling out the patent papers. Ah! Here they are. He
had them prepared for mailing, though he required one additional piece of
information. I don’t believe he will again look at the documents
themselves.”
He slid the papers out of the envelope, laying them flat on the desk
before him.
He took a pen from the side of the desk, dipping it in the inkwell before
taking it to the page. Rachel watched as he found the line with the names of
those requesting patent, and he added to the names of Hardwick Trenton
and Sullivan Andrews, Adam McDougall. He reviewed the rest of the paper
and the proposed design, adding in a line here or there to note Adam’s
contribution to the work. Rachel’s heart swelled with gratitude for the man.
“There we are,” he said as he allowed the ink to dry. “It will now be as
was originally intended. Your Mr. McDougall will receive the same
recognition and the same pay for any design fashioned out of the original
idea.”
He folded the papers once more and returned them to the envelope.
“Your father should not note any differences come the morrow.”
As he rose from the desk, Rachel put her arms around him. “Thank you,
Sullivan. I really, truly appreciate it.”
“’Tis only what is fair, Rachel,” he said, awkwardly patting her back.
“Now, let us see about finding the copies your father made and adjusting
them as well, hmmm?”
He found the papers in the cabinet, quickly scratching in the changes
but, rather than returning them to the shelf, he folded them and placed them
in his pocket. “Trenton hardly looks in the cabinet, and even if he did, what
would he say?” he said. “I do not very well believe he would accuse me of
taking them, for what motive would I have? Come, child, we must go
before anyone happens to see us.”
He ushered her out the door, and Rachel, despite feeling utterly useless,
was glad she had insisted on accompanying Sullivan. Not only would he not
be solely complicit were he to be found out, but she felt a true sense of
accomplishment at having outwitted her father. They settled back in the
hack that had waited for them, and Sullivan looked at her questioningly.
“What are you going to do now, Rachel?” he asked, concern in his
voice. “I do understand your wish to be true to your father’s desires for you
and yet… I cannot help but not want to see you spend the rest of your life
unhappy. You have a loving heart, Rachel, and I do not want to see it
squandered on someone who cares only for himself.”
 Rachel nodded slowly, agreeing with his words.
“The more I learn of my father’s treachery,” she said, “The more I have
realized that he has simply been using me as a pawn. I am still grateful for
what he has done for me and yet… I do realize that he has done no more
than a parent should. However, when I think of the children I hope to have
one day, I realize that I would never want for them a life of unhappiness. I
would want for them a life of love, laughter, a better one than I had. No,
Sullivan,” she said, with resolve, “I will not marry Vincent. Adam may no
longer have me, but at the very least, I must let him know that he still has
his design, that he will still benefit from it, as will the people he cares for.”
Sullivan smiled at her. “That’s a girl,” he said. “I’m proud of you. I
believe McDougall may surprise you. Despite his serious countenance, he’s
a good sort, and I can tell you, Rachel girl, that man loves you. All of our
days together here, he may have been focused on his designs, but you were
always on his mind. You could see it in the way his eyes sometimes were
looking off into the distance, the way his head turned so suddenly whenever
your name was mentioned, how he looked with such distaste upon
Thompson.” He shrugged. “Although I suppose most people look upon
Thompson with distaste. Go to Adam, tell him how you feel. Take the copy
of the documents with you. Adam can keep them, to have as proof of his
role in the project.”
“Thank you, Sullivan,” she said as the carriage came to a halt. “I
appreciate ever so much all that you have done for me.”
“Do not thank me!” he said. “I have no wish to be involved in a scheme
that steals from others, though I am looking forward to the success we can
all find together. Now, just be sure to invite me to the wedding, all right,
young lady?”
Rachel refused to raise her hopes at his words, as much as they caused a
fluttering in her stomach that was difficult to ignore.
“All right, Sullivan,” she said. “If it comes to that, I will.”
Returning home, she dragged her valise out of the closet. If she could
leave before her father arose, she would not have to face him with the
knowledge of what she had taken from him. As much as she knew she was
in the right, it was still difficult to go against the loyalty she had always
shown to him and was so used to. It was just past two in the morning so she
had some time, and she looked through her dresses to determine what to
take with her. She didn’t have many appropriate garments for the trip, but
now she knew better what was required for the Highlands, and she found a
few skirts and blouses that were more practical, though she couldn’t help
but take some of her favorite, prettiest dresses.
Her two pairs of boots, her brush, and comb. As for the bonnets, she
laughed as she found the bonnet Adam had so hated. She would definitely
be taking it with her. She had always been very careful to keep her face
covered from the sun, for her freckles were liable to show the moment a
sun’s ray hit her face. And yet Adam seemed to enjoy her freckles, so did it
really matter? She packed a couple more anyway then surveyed her room.
Yes, there were beautiful things here. Things she would miss if she would
not return. She felt a slight panic rise in her stomach as she thought what
she would do if Adam were to not return her sentiments. Would her father
take her back? Would she have to marry Vincent? Or could she forge her
own path?
She swallowed the fear and resolved that for once in her life, she would
put herself first and take the chance to find happiness.

R ACHEL FOUND the first train out of London to Perth that morning. Her
palms were sweating as she purchased her ticket with a few of the funds she
could call her own. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to the
Highlands with the chance that she could end up completely and utterly
alone?
Yes, she told herself, beating back the doubt that crept in. While perhaps
not entirely logical, at the same time this was the only step that made sense.
If she didn’t go to him, didn’t try to explain what had happened, then she
would always be left with the question of “what if” — what if her life could
be altogether different? What if she could have had the love she had always
longed for?
She lugged her bag toward the train, smiling graciously when one of the
porters took it out of her hand and helped her with it, depositing it into the
car for her. It was near to bursting after she had packed everything she had
thought she might be able to use and also what she couldn’t bear to part
with. She realized this could possibly be one of the last times she would
ever see London. She knew Adam hated it, and she wasn’t sure if her father
would ever forgive her.
That thought gave her pause. She had tried so hard to always be a good
daughter, to do as he asked. Reflecting on it, she thought that perhaps he
had tried, as much as he could, but it just wasn’t truly in his nature. At the
very least, he had not abandoned her like her mother had.
She had left behind a note for him, one in which she tried to explain her
feelings. She had told him how she did appreciate him, and she wished the
very best for him and his business, but that she could not condone how
underhanded his methods had been, and she could no longer do his bidding,
particularly when he had been so dishonest. She felt she had to put her
happiness first, and that was exactly what she was going to do. She had not
actually told him where she was going, although she felt he was certainly
intelligent enough to put the pieces together and determine where she was.
She also had not, of course, mentioned what she and Sullivan had done.
Her father would determine that for himself in due time, when it was much
too late for him to do anything about it.
Rachel leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as she listened to
the sounds of the train around her, of the people boarding and finding their
seats and the distant hum and squeal of the other trains leaving and rolling
into the station. She opened her eyes to look out the window, at the bustle of
people pushing their way through the crowds to find their trains. It was so
busy here, everyone moving so fast. It was something, she realized, that she
wouldn’t miss.
She began to close her eyes again, as the adrenaline that had sustained
her throughout the night was beginning to ebb, to be replaced with a fatigue
that was hard to ignore. Then suddenly her eyes alighted on a figure out the
window — a familiar figure, with dark, straight hair, stilted movements
amongst the crowd of people, and broad shoulders that seemed tight and
tense. No, she thought. No, it couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t be here, back in
London. She was seeing things.
She blinked, shaking her head to clear it, and then looked out the
window again. She found him once more, as he was beginning to walk
toward the exit of the station. As much as her mind wanted to deny what
she thought she saw, there was no escaping the matter. It was him. He was
here.
 25

R achel now bolted upright, the tiredness once again fleeing as her
heart started to race. She scrambled out of her seat, rushing down
the aisle of the train as passengers stared at her in surprise. She
practically stumbled down the steps as she began pushing her way through
the people, weaving her way in and around as she kept herself directed
toward the last place she had seen him. “Adam!” she called out as she
caught sight of his dark head once again, taller than most people in the
station. “Adam!” she cried, although it seemed her voice was lost amongst
the crowd.
He must have heard something though, as she saw him stop and look
around, before shrugging and continuing on his way. She was inching closer
to him, though, ever so slowly. “Adam!” She called, and this time he
stopped and turned, his eyes searching to find her. Finally he saw her, his
eyes alighting on her as she struggled through the crowd. At first he stood
motionless, as if in shock upon seeing her, but then he began to move.
“Rachel!” he called out, making his way toward her with much more
success.
They reached one another, but stopped as they stood inches apart, taking
in each other, unsure of what to say, what to do.
“Are you—?”
“How did—?”
They both spoke at the same time, and Rachel longed to launch herself
into his arms and kiss him as she remembered.
 “Adam,” she said instead, breaking the silence between them as the
noise of the station disappeared and the world seemed to now be composed
of only the two of them. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for you,” he said simply, and with that she did what she had so
badly longed to do, jumping from the ground into his arms. As he caught
her in his strong embrace and held her tightly, he brought his lips down to
hers, kissing her with such passion, such promise, that no words in the
moment were necessary. He finally set her down on her feet, but kept her
close to him, his forehead resting against hers. She couldn’t help the smile
that broke out over her face. She could hardly believe he was here, that this
was real, that he had forgiven all that had happened to seemingly want her
anyway.
“Adam,” she said finally, “I’m so sorry for what my father did to you.
He stole your work –your design – and that is unforgivable.”
“That is not your fault,” he said, brushing her cheek with his fingertips.
“I know,” she said, nodding her head slowly. “That is true. However, I
was not fair to you, agreeing to marry you, to return to the Highlands with
you, and then so quickly turning my back when my father disapproved. It is
hardly any wonder that you thought me to be a part of his scheme.”
“That was wrong of me,” he said. “I know you better than that. I know
your loyalty. I should have understood why you made the choice you did to
follow your father’s wishes of marriage, but that you were not part of the
plan to lure me to London. You are far too trusting, far too good a person to
ever do anything so deceitful. Forgive me?”
“Of course,” she said. “Always.”
“I should never have left you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “I
should have fought for you.”
“You’re here now,” she said with a smile. “That’s what matters.”
“Rachel,” he said slowly, and her eyes widened as he dropped to his
knees in front of her, on the dirty stone floor of the station. “I told you
before I cared for you, that I wanted ye for my wife. But what I didn’t tell
you was that I love you. I love you with all my heart, and promise to
forever be there for you, providing you all that you would ever want and all
ye could ever need. Will you marry me? No matter what happens, I promise
to love you for the rest of my days, but I wish to do so not from afar but
with you by my side.”
 “Oh, Adam!” she said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “I love you
too, with all of my heart and all that I am. Of course I will marry you.”
She gave out a choked cry that was part laugh, part sob, and he rose and
gathered her in his arms.
“Do you not want to get away from all of the people?” she asked,
realizing that they could not have found a busier place in likely all of
London to be standing in. She looked around, suddenly embarrassed when
she saw all the people staring at them, though many wore smiles on their
faces.
“When you are with me, I see no one else,” he said, and she felt the
blood rushing to her face at his words.
“And what has brought you to the train station?” he asked suddenly, not
letting go of her hands.
“Oh! I was coming to you,” she said, looking at the clock in the corner
of the station, realizing the train was to leave in but minutes. “Should we go
back? I realize you just disembarked, but… well, I will explain, but perhaps
now is not the time to return to my father’s house.”
“Is that what you’d like?” he asked. “Do ye truly wish to return to the
Highlands with me?”
“Well, of course,” she said with a laugh. “I just agreed to marry you, did
I not?”
“You did,” he said. “But if you would rather stay here, if you feel
London is the only place you can make home, then I will stay here with
you.”
“No,” she said adamantly with a shake of her head. “You belong in the
Highlands, and I belong at your side. There is nothing and no one holding
me here, while you have an entire family at home in the Highlands, a family
who I know will welcome me, as they did for those few days I stayed with
you. I would love nothing better than to return with you. The question is,
when? We have but moments to purchase you a return ticket and be on our
way.”
“We shouldna waste any more time then, should we?”
He picked up his old, battered bag as they raced toward the ticket
counter and purchased his ticket just shortly before the close of the window
for the journey. She led him to the train, climbing the stairs she had
disembarked just minutes before. As they entered, she saw faces smile at
them, and a couple of people murmured “Congratulations.” Rachel smiled
back shyly as she realized they must have seen everything that had
happened.
They took their seats in her car and she snuggled closer to Adam,
content simply to be in his arms. As the train began rolling out of the
station, in no time she was completely, deeply asleep.

A DAM relaxed into the seat as he held Rachel tightly, with no care for the
stares of the passengers around him. He could hardly believe all that had
just happened. Never could he have expected that Rachel would be there,
waiting for him. He was concerned, however. She had clearly defied her
father, and he knew how difficult the decision must have been for her. What
had made her change her mind?
As much as he wanted to know all that had happened, Adam was a
patient man, and he allowed her to sleep in his arms, for he had seen the
exhaustion in her eyes. She awoke as the train pulled into Perth, and he
allowed his sleepy fiancée to lean on him as they switched trains. When
they boarded the Highland train that would take them to Inverness, he asked
her if she felt the need to sleep longer or if she would like something from
the dining car.
“We should eat,” she said, and together they rose. Never had Adam felt
such a protectiveness, such a possessiveness, over someone, and he
intertwined his fingers with hers. She looked back at him with a smile, and
he could not help but feel the most fortunate man in all of the country that
this beautiful woman was now his.
They sat, ordered their food, and then she rested her hands on the table
as she looked at him with determination in her eyes.
“You must want to know the whole story.”
“I do,” he said, “when you are prepared to tell it to me.”
“Of course I am ready to tell you,” she said. “I simply needed a little
sleep first.”
She laughed then continued, telling him of how she had spoken with
Sullivan Andrews, allowing her to determine the true extent of her father’s
treachery and thievery of Adam’s designs. She also told him of her father’s
plans for her with Vincent Thompson, and how she discovered that
Andrews knew nothing of the scheme. “It was not only you who he was
fooling,” she said. “It was Sullivan, and me as well. Sullivan made me
realize that while my father put a roof over my head and was ensuring that I
would always be cared for, my happiness mattered naught. If he was not
concerned about it, then I must take care of it myself.”
Adam reminded himself to thank the man for helping Rachel come to
the awareness that she likely would have found herself at one point, but
perhaps not until it was too late.
“Oh, and I have something for you,” she said, surprising him by
standing. “I’ll be right back.”
He watched her take off back down the aisle to their seats, and it was
but minutes until she returned, clutching papers in her hand.
“Here,” she said, holding them out to him.
“What is this?” he asked, then began to slowly skim his eyes down the
page, realizing what he was reading.
“Are these patent papers?” he asked, somewhat in disbelief.
“Yes,” she said, a smile breaking out on her face. “Sullivan and I…
slightly altered them.”
“You did what?” he asked, somewhat aghast.
“We broke into my father’s office and changed the patent papers before
he mailed them in,” she said, seemingly quite proud of herself. “What you
hold in your hand is a copy. It was what I was going to use to convince you
that I truly did not conspire against you.”
“Rachel, this is… this is amazing,” he said. “I can hardly believe it, to
be honest with you. Not that you needed to do anything to make me realize
your true intentions. I should have known—”
“Hush,” she said. “We are over that now and onto the future. It will be
some time until we hear anything further, but Sullivan will ensure
everything goes according to plan.”
“We have much to thank him for,” said Adam quietly, looking at all that
was in front of him – the papers and, much more importantly, the woman.
“He’s a good man,” she said quietly. “I know it seems strange that he
continues to remain in business with my father. As odd as it seems,
however, they complement one another well. Perhaps this has been the final
straw for him. We shall see.”
Adam laced his fingers through hers. He had an inkling that Andrews
had a lot to do with the kind, caring person this beautiful woman had
become as well. He smiled at her, looking forward to the remainder of the
journey, not only to his home, but through the rest of their lives.
 26

N ever in her life had Rachel been witness to so much love as that
which welcomed them at Galbury Castle. She had expected it
from Peggy and Jane, who she had grown rather close with during
her time there, but she was entirely taken by surprise when even the
typically gruff Finlay embraced her in a warm hug.
“Yer making my brother very happy, lass,” he said. “We weren’t sure if
this day would ever come, so bent over his inventions he always is. We
canna thank ye enough.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” she said with a shake of her head.
“He’s an easy man to love.”
Roderick laughed at that but they all seemed to agree with her, and soon
the table was full with a feast to celebrate.
“Now for the best part,” said Peggy as they sat down to eat. “It’s time to
plan the wedding!”
The men groaned, but Rachel felt excitement course through her at the
thought. She had been thrilled to simply witness a wedding, and now here
she was, planning one of her own. Jane gave Peggy a warning not to
overtake Rachel’s own wants and desires, and Peggy looked slightly
chastised but agreed.
Later that evening, Rachel and Adam sat close together on the leather
chesterfield, watching the flames crackle in the grate. She leaned against
him, nestling her head into his broad shoulder as she filled her lungs with
his unique scent of pine and wood shavings. He held her tight against him,
his muscular arm drawing her close.
 “Are ye sure ye’ll be happy here, love?” he asked, turning his face
toward her to look into her eyes. “It’s no London. No fancy dresses, no
shops besides those which are necessary to live. I understand if ye need
more than that.”
“Oh, Adam,” she said, looking up at him as she reached her hand to
stroke the side of his face. “This place holds so much more artistry in its
hills and lakes and forests that I don’t need to create beauty to feel at ease.
It’s already here, so much more natural and fulfilling. Until I came here, I
never knew the peace that could be found simply by being and not spending
all my time making engagements and bustling about with the city crowds.
Besides that, the man I love is here, and the family that has accepted me as
their own. It’s more than I could have ever asked for, could have ever
thought possible. And besides that,” she grinned, “your tartan is rather
lovely, and if I ever need something else, material can be ordered.”
“I think I could arrange that,” he said, smiling back at her.
“About our wedding…” she began, looking down at her hands.
“Aye?”
“I know it may seem rather strange given all that has happened, but I
would like to invite my father. I am unsure whether he will actually attend
or not, but you wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Of course not,” he said, his brow furrowing, and she could see the
hesitancy in his eyes but he gave her a bit of a squeeze. “He’s your father.
No matter what has happened between us, between you, he is your family
and you may certainly invite him. There is only one thing you may want to
consider.”
“What’s that?”
“You best write him soon, for I dinna believe I can wait much longer to
make you my wife. A man can only take so much,” his eyes seemed to
darken as he looked down at her, and she felt her cheeks warm.
“It’s a bit late for us to worry about my virtue, is it not?” she murmured
in a low voice.
“Perhaps, but I feel ’tis best to make you my wife before the next time,”
he said, and she nodded. The day in the cottage had been magical, but now
that they were here, in his home, it somehow seemed wrong to be together
again before they were truly man and wife.
“I can hardly wait,” she said softly, for his ears only, and they smiled at
one another, truly lost in the moment.
T HE DAYS LEADING up to the wedding seemed to stretch an interminably
long time, while in the same breath came rather quickly, which Rachel
thought hardly made any sense, yet that was how it came to be. In truth, it
wasn’t altogether much different than the crofters’ wedding they had
celebrated just weeks before, but it being her own, it was special in a way
that no other wedding would ever touch.
Rachel had written her father and Sullivan Andrews the morning after
her conversation with Adam about inviting them, and while Sullivan
responded that he wouldn’t miss it for anything else, she had not heard back
from her father and was unsure if she should expect him or not. Despite her
happiness, it created a weight in her heart that she carried around, unable to
rid herself of. While she would not change any of her actions leading to this
moment, she did regret the way their relationship had been left.
She dressed that day in a beautiful white lace dress, with a tight bodice
on top that descended in folds of silk. She and Peggy stood at the front door
as they waited for the carriage that would take them to the chapel.
Sullivan had arrived on the train the previous day and was staying in
one of the guest bedrooms at Galbury Castle. In the absence of her father,
she had asked him to give her away, which he was more than pleased to do.
She heard the hooves of a horse from down the road leading up to the
castle, and prepared herself for the arriving carriage. When the horse
crested the hill, however, she was shocked to see her father atop it.
“Father?” she said in disbelief as he slid off, not exactly gracefully but
without upending himself on the ground.
“Rachel,” he said with a nod, as if he had come to call upon her on an
ordinary day.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, as she saw Peggy step backward
from the corner of her eye, giving the two of them a few moments alone.
“I’m here to see my daughter married,” he said gruffly. “Is that not why
you asked me here?”
“Well, yes,” she said, hesitatingly. “When you didn’t respond, nor arrive
with Sullivan, I had assumed that you chose not to attend. I know you were
not in favor of this marriage, so I have to say I wasn’t surprised.”
He sighed. “I cannot say I was pleased — at all — to find my daughter
had left in the dead of the night to run off to Scotland.”
 She lowered her eyes but refused to apologize for her actions. Had she
not left, he would never have agreed to her marriage to Adam.
“But that being said, I can see why you did it,” he admitted, and her
eyes flew up to his in surprise.
“You do?”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. “I would have done the same myself.
Sometimes, Rachel, you must do what is required to get what you want.
’Tis what I have been doing all my life.”
“Yes, but—”
“Oh, I know, you would never do anything as purposefully underhanded
as you believe I am. But perhaps now you might better understand some of
my actions.”
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “What you tried to do to Adam with the
patents, and to me and Sullivan in your secret deal with Vincent’s family, it
was utterly shameful and—”
“True,” he said, though he did not look overly contrite at his actions.
She guessed he was mostly regretful that he had been found out more than
anything. “But one must do all he can to get ahead, must he not?”
Rachel realized then that she and her father would never understand
each other. They held different values, saw the world in a different light.
And yet, if they could make some sort of peace with one another today, then
that would be enough.
“Tonight, after the ceremony,” she said firmly, “apologize to Adam.”
“Apologize?” he repeated, his heavy eyebrows rising. “Why, it seems
the man is getting compensated enough, according to the patent letters I
received. I’ll have to discuss business with him in the coming days, but we
can leave that to later. I don’t suppose you know anything about the patent
now including him, do you, daughter?”
“No,” she said, hoping her face didn’t betray her, though if it did, did it
really matter? “It sounds as if all is as it should be,” she said with
confidence. “Now we must go. I do not want to be late for my own
wedding.”
Sullivan actually seemed rather pleased to see that her father had
arrived. He had always steered away from conflict, so she supposed he was
rather happy to see that he wouldn’t be stepping into his old partner’s shoes.
As she stood at the back of the church, looking down the aisle at her
tall, handsome, and oh-so-serious husband-to-be staring back at her, she felt
a sense of peace settle in her very soul, and finally realized what it meant to
be complete.

W HEN A DAM SAW Hardwick Trenton at the back of the church, he was both
relieved as well as slightly anxious. When Rachel hadn’t heard back from
her father, he had contacted Hardwick himself. While he couldn’t stand the
man and wanted nothing to do with him ever again, he knew how much the
estrangement was eating away at Rachel’s gentle soul. He nodded at
Trenton before fixing his eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever
seen. She took his breath away every time he saw her, and he still could
hardly believe he was to be married to her.
When she reached him at the front of the church, he took her hands,
kissed them both, and stared deeply into her eyes. Never before had his
heart been so full. Never before had he known what it could mean to love
someone with all of one’s soul, all of one’s being.
The vows seemed to be said by another voice, another person, and yet
he could feel his lips moving. The handfasting complete, he was proud to
see the McDougall tartan colors around her. The ceremony was finished in
what felt like mere minutes and soon they had returned to Galbury, where a
roaring reception awaited them.
This time, his wife was not sitting and watching the dancers in front of
her, but rather was in the center of the celebrations, the huge smile not
leaving her face, and it warmed his heart to hear her laughter, whether she
was dancing with him or another of his family. Any reservations the people
of the McDougall clan may have had about an Englishwoman in their midst
had been chased away by his lovely wife and her kindness, and she was
soon accepted as one of them.
Adam was smiling as he watched her dance next to his sister when he
felt a presence at his shoulder and turned to find Trenton beside him. The
man was about a head shorter than he and yet a good deal wider though in a
much rounder fashion. Today, however, he had a different air about him,
one that included some hesitancy. Trenton cleared his throat.
“Ah, McDougall,” he said slowly. “Thank you for having me.”
 “Of course,” Adam said with a nod. “’Tis yer daughter’s wedding, after
all.”
“Yes. Well. You know you weren’t what I wanted for her. Not you, not
Scotland,” he said with a bit of vehemence that had Adam righting himself
and turning to face the man with indignation. He might be his wife’s father,
but that was no reason for him to come here and insult him and his country.
“Hold on now,” Trenton continued. “I must say that it seems she is happy
here, and as long as you promise to take care of her, that’s what matters,
does it not?”
“It does,” Adam said cautiously, somewhat surprised.
“She, ah, asked me to apologize to you regarding the wind machine,” he
said, not meeting Adam’s eyes. “So consider this my apology. Perhaps there
was some miscommunication. But, ah, I do have some news to discuss with
you. We can delve further into it tomorrow, but the patent’s been approved,
and we will start production shortly. You will receive your fair due.”
“That’s… wonderful,” he said, somewhat in shock that the design that
had been just a prototype in his workshop weeks prior was now going to be
put into production.
“You will be sure to bring it here, to the Highlands?” he asked, eyebrow
arching as he looked at Trenton.
“I suppose we could look at it,” Trenton said, not promising anything.
“We will have to draw up some sort of contract,” Adam said, crossing
his arms, not allowing the man any room to escape the conversation.
“Very well,” said Trenton with a bit of a sigh of defeat, as he noted
Sullivan Andrews standing nearby, listening to the conversation.
Apparently, he and Andrews had some sort of new understanding as
Andrews gave Trenton a nod when he agreed with Adam.
“Business on the morrow, then,” said Andrews joining them, and the
three unlikely partners had a drink to the new start.
 27

R achel was so exhausted from the revelries of the evening that she
could hardly climb the stairs to the room she and Adam would
share. Well, continue to share, she thought with a sleepy laugh, as
it was where she had first stayed in the house some weeks ago. She wasn’t
sure how all the Highlanders were all able to stay awake for so long. She
could hardly keep her eyes open, and she was one of the first to retire.
Adam followed her up the stairs, and she let out a bit of a shriek when he
perhaps saw her fatigue and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her the
rest of the way.
He carried her through the doorway to the bedroom, before gently
laying her down on the bed. He looked down at her, a bit of a wicked grin
on his face.
“How tired are you, wife?”
Her eyes flew open. “I am suddenly not so very tired any longer,” she
said, feeling rather shy, though why she wasn’t sure. She had known this
man before, and yet then it had seemed like something of the dream, while
this felt all so real.
The smile remained on his face, however, and she focused on that. She
loved to see the grin break through when he was usually so serious, and she
would do all she could to keep it there. She sat up and he drew her to him.
“You made me a very happy man today, Rachel,” he said softly as his
mouth neared hers, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips.
She felt her eyes close as he continued to rain soft kisses over her face,
and her belly tightened in anticipation before spreading heat lower within
her. “What are you doing to me?” she gasped as he turned his attention to
the skin that swelled above the top of her dress, and as he inched the lace
lower, he trailed kisses along the newly exposed flesh.
“I am making love to my wife,” he said, his hands coming to her hips,
and she felt the hard length of him pressed up against her through his kilt. A
moan began to climb in her throat as she felt a returning, aching pressure
pulsing inside her, and she moved against him in an attempt to ease that
ache. He groaned at her effort as he ran his hands up and down her hips in
rhythm with her movements.
He reached his hands around her back, fumbling for a moment as he
began to undo the row of tiny buttons that climbed the back of her dress.
She tried not to laugh as he muttered and cursed his way through it, before
finally sighing in relief as the dress gave way. He worked the material down
her body until the white fabric pooled over the floor underneath them. He
lifted her shift up over her head before tossing it away as well.
She felt rather than saw the heat of his stare, and she lifted her arms to
cover herself. She knew she had the look of a boy rather than a young
woman, her breasts small and her body rather unshapely.
“Do not,” he said harshly. “You are beautiful and I want to see all of
you.”
She heard the desire in his voice, and let her arms fall to the side. He
looked at her in worship and wrapped his palm around a small breast,
deliberately exploring it. Her breath caught in her throat as he caught the
small pink tip of her breast, rubbing it back and forth. He teased it until her
hips began to buck against him, wanting more than he was giving her.
“You are exquisite,” he whispered, dipping his head, his lips coming
around the bud of her nipple. He suckled, and she would have collapsed had
he not been holding her. He guided her down to the bed, never breaking
contact with her. He left her breast for a moment, only to bring his tongue to
the other.
She bit her lip so as to not cry out too loudly, and he lifted a knee to
gently nudge her legs apart. She felt his rigid, hard thigh against her core,
and she could not keep herself from moving against him. She struggled to
breathe and moaned, feeling scandalous and yet unable to help her response
to him. What she truly felt was a hunger for more of him.
“I have been waiting to feel this again, ever since our time together in
the cottage,” he whispered against her ear. “It has been far, far too long.” He
kissed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She could no longer
speak, but simply reveled in his strength and power, hardly believing that he
could be so tender and yet evoke such strong emotions from her. He slid his
hand atop her, and found her center with the pad of his thumb.
“Adam,” she cried, reflexively squeezing him with her thighs. He
continued, palming her, apparently lost in his actions as Rachel let her legs
fall open, wanting more of him. He slid a finger inside her, and she nearly
came apart, her head falling back as she softly panted. He pushed back from
her for a moment, and she felt utterly bereft until she saw he was dispensing
of his kilt, untying the beautiful plaid, and pulling the leine over his head
until he stood in front of her.
She could hardly breathe as she took in the beauty of the tight, corded
muscles of his body. As he leaned over her again, she ran her fingertips
along his biceps as they strained, holding himself up above her. She trailed
her hands up, over his shoulders and down his chest, along the ridge of his
abdomen. She peeked up at his face, seeing his eyes dark and his lids heavy,
and she felt powerful knowing that she was able to wring such emotion
from him.
He finally caught her hands in his, and came down overtop her, his
mouth covering hers. Gone were the gentle kisses, and in their place a
hunger for her that she eagerly matched.
He broke away from her for a moment, as he whispered softly, “You
were made for me, lass,” and she felt a tear at the corner of her eye as she
reached up to palm his cheek. He caught the wetness with his finger before
claiming her lips once more, slipping his tongue inside. He dragged his lips
down her body, and she bit her lip with a groan. She twined her fingers into
his silky dark hair as she felt the desire building in her core. Suddenly she
realized where he was going, and when his lips touched her, her half-closed
eyes flew open.
“What are you —” her voice broke off as she felt his tongue on her nub,
and she collapsed back on the bed, giving herself over to the sensations
running through her. She was near to coming apart when he suddenly left
her, and she soon became aware of the hard length of him pressing against
her. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze as she felt him slowly slide inside
her, and she twined her arms around his back, pulling him closer.
Then he began to move, and her hips instinctively rose to meet his, back
and forth, in long strokes. The rhythm soon intensified until she felt the
sensation building, and she felt his thumb come to her most tender of places
once more. As he brought his lips down to hers, she suddenly stilled as she
came undone, calling out his name, no longer caring how loud she was.
He soon followed her, his body tightening in her arms, until they both
collapsed back on the bed, breathing rapidly. Adam rolled over beside her
to keep his weight from her, and tucked her inside the curve of his body.
She said nothing, but smiled a slow, easy grin. She ran her fingers over his
forearm to his hand, where she caught his fingers in hers. Yes, she was
where she belonged, she knew with absolute certainty. Nothing, and no one,
could keep her from this man, and she had no desire to be anywhere but
here.
He kissed the top of her ear, tickling her, and she shivered against him.
“I thought the first time was magic,” she said incredulously. “I never
knew it could happen again.”
“If ’tis magic you want, magic is what you shall get,” he said.
“Whatever my lady desires. Over and over again…. Yer in the Highlands
now, love. Anything is possible.”
She laughed and rolled over, bringing her lips to his once more,
complete in her love for him.

R ACHEL WAS SOMEWHAT nervous the next day as Adam, Sullivan, and her
father spent much of it together in the laird’s room. Duncan joined them for
a time to offer his advice on business within the countryside. She knew her
father was focused on England, but Adam and his family would see to it
that the Scots got their due.
When Adam finally emerged, he took her in his arms and gave her a
quick kiss on the top of her head.
“A walk to the loch, love?” he asked, and she smiled.
“I think that would be a fine idea,” she said in response.
As they began strolling down to the crystal blue waters, the green of the
hills surrounding them, Adam put his arm around her and drew her in close.
“All seems to be well,” he said. “We have a plan going forward and a
contract in place to ensure we all — your father, Andrews, and I — receive
our fair due for our work. Your father and Andrews will look after the
production in London, and hopefully in due time more people will benefit
from the wind energy. I think I’ll build our own machine here to start, and
see what can be done with it.”
“That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I would so love to see
your work.”
“And ye shall,” he said, his gaze wistful as they came to the water’s
edge and he stared out over the horizon.
“What of the dealings with Vincent’s family?”
“The agreement remained that Vincent can one day assume control of
the business – but only if, at the time, your father and Sullivan both agree to
it. Sullivan was concerned about your thoughts on the matter, but I
conveyed your wish that you would prefer to make your home here. While
Vincent wasn’t particularly pleased that you were no longer part of the
agreement, it is still in his favor.”
She nodded in agreement, pleased that it was all done with.
“We do have one problem,” he added.
“And what is that?”
He turned to her and grinned. “We are going to have to teach you how
to swim.”
He shucked off the kilt he wore around his hips before diving into the
water. Rachel stared at him incredulously. “What are you doing?” she
gasped.
“Come inwith me!” he said, “I’ll keep you afloat, I promise.”
“It’s the middle of the day!” she exclaimed, but began laughing at him.
This behavior was rather unlike him, and she couldn’t help but be pleased
by the dimples brought out in his cheeks.
“Leave your shift on,” he said. “The water is fine. I’ll make sure Nessie
doesna eat you. I’ll tell her yer one of us now. Don’t be scared, love.”
Feeling somewhat ridiculous, she nevertheless lifted her dress over her
head, leaving it on a large rock beside the water before removing her shoes.
She tentatively waded in and then let herself fall into his arms. As his strong
arms came around her, she felt his powerful legs kick to keep them afloat.
“Well now, I think I’m going to have to come up with something to help
you swim,” he said, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Perhaps something
that would keep you afloat. Hmmm…”
She saw his thoughts start to wander onto whatever invention he was
drawing up in his head, and she laughed, looking around her in wonder.
This land had drawn her, and here she had found a home, not only in her
surroundings, but in the man who held her.
“I love you, Adam McDougall,” she said, bringing him out of his
thoughts and his attention back to her.
“And I you, my little English wife,” he said, capturing her lips with his,
and she knew she would never, ever be alone again.

THE END

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 AFTERWORD

I have borrowed from history in this novel when it comes to the wind
turbine. The first use of a wind-powered machine to generate electricity
was, in fact, by a Scotsman, Professor James Blyth, in July of 1887, used to
light his home in Maykirk, Scotland. He received a UK patent in 1891.
However, most people credit the first use of a wind-powered machine to
generate electricity to an American, Charles Brush, although his operated
for the first time during the winter of 1887.
 RODERICK’S PURPOSE

Preview Roderick and Gwen’s story, book 4 of The Victorian

Highlanders…
A SNEAK PEEK…
1886 - Qu'Appelle, Northwest Territory

“S top, right there!”

Gwendolyn Malone did no such thing. No, to stop would
be utter foolishness and would mean the demise of herself and
her father. Instead, she churned her legs even faster, willing herself to keep
up the torrid pace until she reached her horse, who was standing at
attention, waiting for her at the end of the town’s dusty street.
Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she reached the horse and without
breaking stride jumped and hauled herself on his back. She was thankful
she had the foresight to remove her skirt in favor of the pair of trousers
underneath, and to gather her long hair under her hat while she was inside.
“Hi-ya!” she shouted, and the horse, well trained for such a
circumstance, took off at a gallop, the brown dirt of the road flying up
behind them. Her heart pounded, and a sense of elation rose within her. She
had gotten away with it! Alone, without her father or his men to help, she
had what she came for — and, she thought with a bit of satisfaction and
relief, no one had been hurt in the process, unlike a typical Doc Malone
robbery.
Her exhilaration quickly faded, however, when she heard the pounding
of hooves behind her. She stole a glance over her shoulder, cursing when
she saw the horse closing the distance between them. How was it possible?
She had one of the fastest horses in the area, thanks to the light fingers of
her father, and she was an expert horsewoman. How could this man
possibly best her? She urged her mount even faster, but despite the fact she
had tracked the getaway path earlier, she wasn’t completely certain of
which way she was going, nor did the horse appear to know. Perhaps this
man knew the path better. Perhaps his horse was equally as fast. Perhaps —
no, not possible. He could not be better on a horse than she was. She had
never met a man who was.
Yet, he was keeping up with her. She risked taking a quick left turn
when the path forked, though she had no idea where it led. She hoped he
would be thrown off by her abrupt change in direction, but when she looked
back, he was still with her, though she had gained a bit of ground. She
caught a glimpse of him and realized it was the man who had been sitting
on the bench. Blast it all! He must have been in wait, she thought, shocked
at herself and her inability to see the man for who he was. Typically, her
instincts were much more reliable. She had been distracted.
She returned her focus to the path ahead, realizing with a start that there
didn’t seem to be anywhere to go — in just a hundred yards or so she would
be surrounded by a copse of trees and would have to lead her horse through
the woodland. It would be completely fine in normal circumstances, but not
when being chased. Tightening the reins slightly, she slowed to find a way
out. All the breath suddenly left her as a solid weight slammed into her side
with such force she was knocked off her horse and taken to the ground. She
grunted when her body hit the dirt, and her assailant tried to catch her hands
behind her back, likely to tie her up.
Gwen strongly resolved to ensure that would never happen, and she
quickly rolled out of the man’s grip, clambering to her feet and running
back toward her horse. Before she could get very far, however, he grabbed
her ankle and dragged her back, and she realized she wouldn’t be able to
outrun him. Instead, she remembered everything Doc had taught her and
swung with a right hook he would be proud of, connecting with the man’s
jaw. His head snapped back, and he bellowed with anger. A sense of
satisfaction settled over her despite the pain that radiated through her
knuckles and up her arm.
The man was strong, however, and grabbed onto her right upper arm
with such force she couldn’t move it. She brought her left arm up,
scratching at his face until he reached out to stop her, letting her go in the
process. She scrambled out of his grasp once more, and when he went to
reach for her, she brought her knee up, hard, into his groin. As he cried out
again, Gwen brought her feet up and onto his shoulder before she used them
to propel herself back in a somersault.
She picked up the bag that had fallen off her shoulder, and slowly crept
backward, away from him. She had to get free. Her father’s life depended
upon it.
“Listen,” he said slowly, although she could hear the rising frustration in
his voice, that deep, warm voice with the Scottish lilt and charming
vibration that she was sure had charmed many a lady. “I willna hurt you if
you simply come with me. We’ll return what you stole, you give me the
names of who you work with, and you can maybe even go free. All right?”
She would never agree to his terms, and apparently, he saw it in her
face, for he launched himself at her again, coming over top of her, pinning
her arms with his hands, his weight on her legs so that she couldn’t move
them. Damn it, she thought. She was well and truly trapped.

R ODERICK CURSED as the man moved underneath him. How had he not seen
him enter the building? Had he fallen asleep and let the man get by him?
Callum would never let that go, and he wasn’t sure Angus McLaren would
forgive him for it either. Would he still have a job? His attention returned to
the thief as the man tried to bite his hand. What sort of man bit—
“Oh dear God,” he said, his mind suddenly processing what — or
rather, who — lay underneath him. Big green eyes filled with contempt
stared up at him, and he looked down the soft contours of the face, the high
cheekbones, the rosy lips overtop teeth that were not quite perfect, but a bit
crooked … he swallowed hard, for it was not a man he straddled but a
woman. And not just any woman, but the woman he had felt himself so
attracted to when she walked up the stairs.
“Something surprise you?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow, the rest of her
face a mask of innocence.
“Not at all,” he said, pulling her into a sitting position and tying her
hands behind her, although with a little less force than he would were she a
man. His mind worked furiously. She was as strong as she was tall, but now
that he took a closer look, he saw the swells of her curves, the delicate lines
of her face — and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her. Were she male,
that would be an easy decision. He might rough him up some to convince
him to not try to escape, then he would put him on the horse — hands tied
— and lead them back to the station. But a woman, now, that was
something else entirely.
He realized he was still straddling her lap, and he felt a stirring in his
loins. She might be a thief, true, but that didn’t make her any less alluring.
He looked up and found her staring at him, and a flare of recognition at his
desire came into her wide eyes, which reminded him of the color of the
grassy stretches of his Highland hills on a beautiful summer day, and made
him unexpectedly long for home.
She smiled coyly at him. “Yer a Scot, are ye not?” she asked, her
Scottish lilt suddenly much more pronounced, nearly as much as his own.
 “Aye,” he said warily.
“I made a mistake, true,” she said, looking up at him from underneath
long lasses. “Do ye think perhaps you could make an exception — let me
go, just this once? You can tell whoever yer working for that I escaped. No
one would be the wiser.”
He snorted. “I’m an officer of the North-West Mounted Police. We’ve
been looking for you for some time. And I’ll not let any think a woman
bested me.”
“No one needs to know I’m a woman. You nearly didn’t.”
He shook his head. “Anyone who has seen ye up close would know.”
There was truth to his words, for despite her build, she was striking. Her
nose had a slight curve to it and a bit of a bump, making him think perhaps
it had been broken at some point — his cousin Gregor’d had the same
happen to him as a child. She had freckles covering her face, clearly from
spending a great deal of time in the sun, and her full bottom lip was a rosy
pink that drew him. He had never been so attracted to a woman at first sight
before — and clearly, she recognized his attraction.
Strong, lean legs came up around him where he sat in front of her, and
she bit that lower lip and looked at him. “What will it take to get you to
release me?”
He pushed back in disgust at how easily she had ascertained his feeling
toward her, and stood abruptly, pulling her with him, her hands now firmly
tied in front of her.
“There’s nothing ye can do but come with me,” he said, and she pouted,
tilting her head to the side. “Perhaps ye can make a deal with the sergeant if
ye give up the rest of your gang.”
“Never,” she said, her head held high as he led her to her horse.
“You’ll have to help me up,” she said, holding up her tied hands, and he
sighed but did as she asked, cupping his hands together as a step. She put
her foot into them, resting her hands on his shoulder, and warmth flooded
through him where they touched. She gave a bit of a hop and swung her leg
around the horse. He reached to gather the horse’s reins, but as he did so,
the woman gave a “hi-ya!” and squeezed her legs around the horse, who
shot forward. The leather reins burned his hands as they slid through and
dragged behind her.
“Bloody hell!” he shouted as he ran to his own horse to chase after her.
R ODERICK ’ S P URPOSE is now available to preorder on Amazon.
 ALSO BY ELLIE ST. CLAIR

Standalone
Unmasking a Duke
The Stormswept Stowaway
Christmastide with His Countess
Her Christmas Wish

Happily Ever After

The Duke She Wished For
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
He’s a Duke, But I Love Him
Loved by the Viscount
Because the Earl Loved Me

Happily Ever After Box Set Books 1-3

Happily Ever After Box Set Books 4-6

Searching Hearts
Duke of Christmas
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Hearts of Trust
Hope of Romance
Promise of Redemption

Searching Hearts Box Set (Books 1-5)

The Unconventional Ladies

Lady of Mystery
Lady of Fortune
Lady of Providence
Lady of Charade
 Blooming Brides
A Duke for Daisy
A Marquess for Marigold
An Earl for Iris
A Viscount for Violet

The Blooming Brides Box Set: Books 1-4

The Bluestocking Scandals

Designs on a Duke
Inventing the Viscount
Discovering the Baron
The Valet Experiment

The Victorian Highlanders

Callum’s Vow
Finlay’s Duty
Adam’s Call
Roderick’s Purpose
Coming Soon
Peggy’s Love
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ellie has always loved reading, writing, and history. For many
years she has written short stories, non-fiction, and has worked on
her true love and passion -- romance novels.
In every era there is the chance for romance, and Ellie enjoys
exploring many different time periods, cultures, and geographic
locations. No matter when or where, love can always prevail. She
has a particular soft spot for the bad boys of history, and loves a
strong heroine in her stories.
She enjoys walks under the stars with her own prince
charming, as well as spending time at the lake with her children,
and running with her Husky/Border Collie cross.

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