Her father caught her arm as she made for the door.
“You cannot think to be joining us, Rebecca,” 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. Rebecca 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 Rebecca 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.”
Rebecca 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 issue. Rebecca 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.
* * *
Adam 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
