Seth didn’t mind the lapse in manners at all. He rather looked forward to sampling the local whisky again and meeting the men of the village. From what he knew, there would be more than drinking at the party—perhaps feats of strength, which the Scots were known for. One thing Seth had always striven to do was keep himself in top form. A physically weak man was not fit to lead or to sire sons. And he would use this celebration as an opportunity to prove himself to the locals. He’d earn their respect one way or another.
“There is one other matter, sir,” the barrister said.
“Yes?”
Mr. McLain handed him a missive. “I will wait over there while you read it, for the lady requires an immediate answer.”
“Lady?” Seth gazed down at the paper in his hand. A note from his Rosie. He unfolded the delicate paper and read it out loud. “If you find it in your heart to make an exception to our arrangement, please meet me at the lake on my uncle’s estate at half-past two today.”
Seth folded the missive and shoved it in the inner pocket of his jacket. Hadn’t he made it clear he thought it best the two of them waited until their wedding to meet in person? Years of excitement had built up in his mind and heart for the blessed event tomorrow. And though he hadn’t been a saint over the years, sharing intimacy with women of questionable reputations when he was younger, once he sailed for Scotland, he had pledged to never stray from his beloved Rosie. She was all he thought about, day and night.
Her cherished letters had provided him with a sense of purpose. A need to be successful. A need to grow into the man he’d become—passionate yet tempered. Reluctant but honest. If he dared to see her today, would he be able to control the desire that threatened to burst forth at any moment? She was beautiful, intelligent, and all his. But if she wanted to see him, there must be a good reason.
“Well, sir?” The barrister stirred him back to the present.
“Yes. I will meet her. Tell me, where is the lake?”
Once Mr. McLain gave him directions and hurried away to make whatever arrangements he needed to, Seth stared at his pocket watch. In just under an hour, he would be united with his betrothed.
*
Lady Rosalind waitedwith trepidation—her body quivering with anticipation. What if he didn’t like the sound of her voice? Or the feel of her hand in his? What if she disliked him? So many doubts ran through her mind that she did not hear the horse approach at first. She was stunned when she turned and found Seth walking in her direction.
Sunlight reflected off his glossy, dark hair. And his form—tall and strong, with wide shoulders, and eyes the color of spring grass, delighted her. The single photograph she possessed of him had been a poor representation of the man she beheld now. Days of stubble on his face added an air of pure Highlander about him, and she knew he was everything she had hoped for in a physical sense. But would his heart be what she so desperately longed for in a man? Could he carry an intelligent conversation? Was he kind? Interested in anything beyond himself?
Though his letters suggested yes to every question, he could have easily misrepresented himself just to snare her into this marriage, for she came with a generous dowry—thirty thousand pounds and property.
She had selected a blue walking dress, and it complemented her curves. But she had also chosen to wear a heavy lace veil, the type a widow in mourning would cover herself with so he could not see her face clearly. Still hiding behind the trunk of the tree, she sucked in a breath as he stood on the other side of it, calling her name.
“Lady Rosalind?”
“I am here,” she squeaked, stepping out so he could see her.
They were frozen in place as they gazed upon each other.
He cleared his throat, looking her up and down, shifting on his feet. “T-this is highly irregular.”
These would be his first words to his future bride? She smiled, knowing he was nervous to meet her for the first time, and raised a gloved hand for him to take. “Is that any way to greet me, Seth?” Surely she must present herself as confident, so he would speak with her without reluctance.
He rubbed his chin, nodding in agreeance before he took her hand and grazed her knuckles with his lips. “Forgive my lack of manners, Rosalind.” He gave a slight bow and slowly released her hand, an enigmatic smile taking form on his face. “This meeting was unexpected and goes against everything we agreed to. I am a creature of habit, my sweet Rosalind. Have I not explained this clearly in my letters?”
“I understand a man of your reliable nature cannot afford to stray from the known path in his business affairs, Lord Belware. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I am sure you can recognize the value and appreciate the need for occasional surprises. Unless you wish us to lead very unremarkable lives once we are married.”
He simply stared at her, either unwilling to answer her, or unable to because her words had shocked him into silence. Had she chosen incorrectly by inviting him here? She’d done everything to still honor their agreement to notseeeach other until their wedding day, for he could not make out her features through the veil. But she could see him, and admired everything about him, even his deep voice, which soothed her, drew her in, even.
“My intentions were to take a moment to explain why my uncle has chosen to host a party in your honor.”
“I must admit the earl has been less than cordial at times when dealing with me.”
“He is overly protective of me at times.”
His expression softened then. “As I, too, shall be.” Seth reached for her hand, and she gave it to him without delay.
Though they both wore gloves, she felt the heat of his fingers through the leather—or was that simple attraction—physics in a rudimentary sense? The physical processes of things in nature had always intrigued her, and her betrothed was no exception, it would seem. She curled her fingers more tightly around his. “Are you sure we cannot abandon our original promise to one another and allow me to remove this veil so you can finally see me?”
“No,” he said sharply, letting go of her hand. “Try to understand, I have waited years for this moment—for the day of our marriage. That excitement of unveiling you in the church, well, it…” He turned away from her, his emotions palpable.
“I must apologize, my lord. My impatience and excitement lead me to this moment…”
