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.
The 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
