Page 47 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

Anne gasped, offended by this. “We are not old!”

The blacksmith lifted his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Shall we begin, then?”

“But—”

“Are you old enough to marry?” The blacksmith then laughed quite loud. “We can skip that one. Are you related to each other?”

With eyes round as saucers, Anne looked at Victor.

They were in the middle of a wedding ceremony, their wedding ceremony!

But he wasn’t saying anything, or doing anything.

Had he gone mad? Instead, he was staring at her, his jaw clenched tight.

She had to get this cleared up posthaste.

“No, we’re not related! Sir, I must say—”

“Have either of you been a resident of Scotland for at least twenty-one days? That’s a requirement since the 1850s and not enough people know about it.”

“No, we haven’t!” Anne was now fully panicked. Good God, what was happening?

“ I have,” Victor said.

Anne inhaled sharply. “Victor, you are not helping right now.” What in the blazes was he doing? He should have been putting a stop to this madness, not encouraging it!

“Excellent! Then you are married.” The blacksmith picked up his hammer and raised it above his head.

“Stop!” Anne took a few steps back from the anvil. “Mr. Blacksmith, sir, we are not here to get married. Victor, have you lost your mind?” She nearly hissed at him, her heart pounding against her ribs.

But a horrifying thought hit her. Had they really just gotten married?

Oh, blast it all!

Victor blinked as if coming out of some sort of trance. “Wait.” His eyes flew up to hers and then widened. Their travel bags tumbled to the floor. “Wait!”

The blacksmith looked quickly between them. “So, do I ding the anvil? Or no?”

“No!” Both Anne and Victor shouted together. Somewhere off to the side, the two witnesses let out small gasps.

The blacksmith lowered the hammer hesitantly and then set it to the side. “Hmm.”

Anne took in a deep breath and told the blacksmith their purpose for being there. She described Mary and Mr. Ashby, but the blacksmith, unfortunately, didn’t know if the couple had come through or not. But he also seemed quite distracted. “Sir, did you hear anything I just said?” Anne sputtered.

The blacksmith rubbed his palm over his cheek. “Something about your daughter.” He took in a deep inhale. “Look. I’ve never had a ceremony interrupted like that before.”

Anne shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

The portly man laughed nervously. “I went through all the required questions and words for a wedding. But I didn’t ding the anvil.” He scratched at his chin. “Were either of you married before this moment?”

“Well, I’m a widow.”

“Recent?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” The blacksmith went over to a window, where a few books were stacked. He picked one up and begun thumbing through.

Anne and Victor exchanged a look. Something was happening, and she didn’t like the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Thankfully, though, Victor took charge of this moment.

Finally.

Victor cleared his throat. “Forgive me, but what is interesting ?”

The blacksmith was mumbling to himself as he looked through the book and stopped at some page. And all he said was “Hmm. Interesting.” There was that word again.

“Victor,” Anne said in a warning voice. They couldn’t have been married—that had to have been impossible. Neither of them wanted to be married to the other.

Right? It was her biggest nightmare, to be married again. And so unexpectedly, to add!

The mere thought, coupled with the chaos, was starting to make her feel dizzy.

“So.” The blacksmith turned back to them with the open book. “This is a quite awkward.”

“What. Just. Happened?” Victor’s darkness had decided to return. Finally.

The blacksmith paled. “It’s funny really.” He laughed. “You two, ah, might be married.”

Anne gasped and faltered back.

“But…” The blacksmith raised his pointer finger. “You also might not be.”

“How do you not know if we are or not?” she snapped back.

“Well…” He thumbed through the book again. “I can’t determine if the anvil ding is required or not. It’s the sound that indicates the anvil ceremony is completed, you see.”

“But it’s not required for other ceremonies,” Anne said.

The blacksmith hesitated. “That is true, but it is a requirement for the anvil ceremony. I don’t know if there’s some strange law that means it must be a part of it for the type of ceremony only.

Anyway, don’t you want to know that for certain either way?

I know I would.” He chuckled. Rather inappropriate for the moment.

“As the expert, what is your professional opinion?” Victor asked through clenched teeth.

“I’m only a blacksmith, sir.” The blacksmith said this with round, innocent eyes. “Honestly, I’ve never had this happen before. I really, truly, don’t know. But if I had to make a wager on it, I would wager you’re married. But I could lose that wager, too.”

Anne took a deep inhale through her nose at this wishy-washy man, turned around, and stormed out of the building.