Page 42

T hey reached the Scottish border at dawn.

The sun was starting to rise on the horizon as they made their way into the village.

Adrian would have to make the arrangements for their upcoming wedding.

From what he understood, anyone could perform the ceremony, but he was not entirely certain how to go about arranging for their nuptials.

He glanced at Georgina and smiled. Time seemed to stand still for that brief moment.

She took his breath away and he felt as if it would always be like this between them.

They reached an inn and he stopped his horse, then dismounted.

He strolled over to assist her down and then saw to the horses.

“I will be just a moment,” he told her as he led them to a nearby stable.

Once the horses were settled, he returned to the entrance of the inn.

Georgina was there patiently waiting for him.

“Shall we?” Adrian held out his hand to her. She leaned into him as they went into the inn. Once there, he located the innkeeper. “We need a room and some information.”

“I can help with the room,” the innkeeper said in a deep Scottish brogue. He had snow white hair and a face full of wrinkles. His eyes were a warm blue that made Adrian like him immediately. “And I may be able tae help with yer answers. What is it ye need?”

“We wish to wed,” Adrian said. “Who can assist us with that?”

“The smithy,” the innkeeper said. “He’s at the end of the main road. Ye canna miss his shop.”

“Thank you,” Adrian told him. “After we have the key to our room we will go find him.”

He did not wish to wait a moment longer to make Georgina his wife.

They took the room key from the innkeeper and then left the inn.

They walked together down the road until he found the shop that the older man had directed them to.

Adrian and Georgina stood at the edge of the smithy.

The soft clink of metal on metal filled the air, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer.

Smoke billowed from the forge, curling up into the clear Scottish sky, a stark contrast to the bright blue.

Warmth from the fire in the smithy reached him through the open door.

The scent of hot iron and coal hung in the air, a unique combination that seemed to define the rustic atmosphere of the place.

They went into the shop and glanced around.

There was no one about and Adrian frowned.

A door on the far end of the shop opened and a woman with bright red hair strolled in. “How may I help ye?” she asked.

“We are here to see the smithy,” Adrian said. “We wish to wed.”

“Do ye?” She grinned and she almost looked impish. “I am Aisla,” she said. “The smithy is my father. He is just finishing the morning meal. He should join us shortly.”

Aisla was correct. The door creaked open, and a large, burly man emerged, wiping his hands on his apron.

His broad shoulders and thick arms spoke of years spent at the forge, shaping iron and steel into whatever was needed.

His hair, much like his daughter’s, was a fiery red, though his was tinged with the gray of age.

He had a wide, solid frame and a face weathered by the years.

His eyes also matched his daughter’s and were a moss green that seemed too shrewd in Adrian’s estimation.

“Let me guess,” he began. “Ye wish to say some vows.”

“We do,” Georgina said in a soft tone. She met Adrian’s gaze and smiled. “I love him and do not want to spend another day apart from him.”

The smithy did not show any emotion. He stared at her intently and then turned that astute gaze on Adrian. “And this is your wish as well?”

“It is,” he said with conviction. “Can you marry us?”

“Aye,” the smithy replied. “I can.”

“I would also like a ring,” Adrian said, his tone firm, his decision now settled. “One that will signify my commitment to this woman for the rest of our lives.”

The smithy’s brow furrowed, and he eyed Adrian carefully before nodding. “A ring, eh? I believe I can accommodate that request. A smith can craft all manner o’ things, though a ring’s a bit different. Special, ye ken.”

Aisla stepped forward, her green eyes scanning Adrian’s face with interest. “Ye wish tae make it special, no doubt? I’ve a few ideas.

Father’s work is the finest ye’ll find in Scotland, I’m certain.

But it’s always best to know the woman’s taste.

” She turned her attention toward Georgina and smiled.

“Perhaps she should choose from Father’s selection. ”

Adrian’s lips twitched, amused by Aisla’s straightforwardness. He turned to Georgina, his gaze softening. “What do you think, Georgina? I’d like you to choose the ring, if you will.”

Georgina’s brow furrowed slightly, but there was a softness to her eyes as she stepped forward, glancing at the various trinkets and tools scattered about the small space.

The walls were lined with shelves of shining metal—iron, steel, and copper—each glowing under the faint flicker of light from the hearth.

Tools of all shapes and sizes hung from hooks on the stone walls, the firelight dancing off their polished surfaces.

The anvil stood at the center of the room, its surface battered and worn from years of use, but it held an aura of quiet strength.

But none of those things mattered. Their focus was on the velvet cloth that Aisla presented them filled with several different rings for Georgina to make her choice.

After a long moment of contemplation, Georgina’s gaze fell on one piece among the others. “That one,” she said quietly, pointing to a ring on the worn velvet Aisla held out to her.

Adrian followed her finger, his heart skipping a beat and he noticed the ring she’d selected.

It was simple yet striking—an intricately wrought gold band, delicate but strong, with a deep sapphire set at its center.

The stone caught the light in a way that made it shimmer, its deep blue depths inviting and mysterious.

In the right light it would almost match the color of her eyes…

In short, it was indeed the perfect choice.

The smithy nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “A fine choice. The stone’s a sapphire, rare and beautiful. It’ll last a lifetime, I’d say.”

Adrian’s gaze flickered to Georgina, his chest tight as the significance of the moment settled over him.

He had never imagined his life would come to this—to this small smithy, choosing a ring with the woman he loved.

But here they were and in this moment, he was certain—utterly certain—that there was no one else for him but her.

Not that he had truly doubted his decision to marry her, but somehow this seemed to fortify that choice.

He belonged to her and only her. Forever.

He turned to the smithy, his voice steady. “What is the price of the ring?”

The smithy grinned and gave a short laugh.

“Not much more than yer pride, milord. But ye’ll be payin’ me what it’s worth, eh?

We wouldn’t want tae insult the stone by not settin’ it right.

” Adrian chuckled, stepping closer to the smithy, as Aisla carefully lifted the ring off the velvet.

“What do we need to do now to be married?” he asked.

The ring was only the start of their quest to be wed.

The man was not forthcoming with any details at first. It was starting to frustrate him.

What did it take to marry the woman he loved in Scotland?

At this rate it almost seemed easier to have a wedding in England, and he knew that to be untrue.

Unless one could afford a special license, most couples had to wait weeks to say vows.

The smithy had been eager to help him purchase a ring for Georgina, but now he seemed reluctant to see the task of a wedding completed.

“The ceremony is simple enough,” the smithy said. “Say yer vows to each other now before myself and my daughter.”

Adrian turned to Georgina. Was it that simple?

What could he say to her? What vows would hold meaning in this moment?

“Georgina,” he began. “I swear by the stars above us, by the earth beneath us, and by the love between us, that I shall be yours always and forevermore.” Adrian swallowed a lump in his throat.

“You are my heart, my soul, my love… From this day forward, I bind myself to you, not only in name but in heart, in spirit, and in love. You are the light that leads me from the shadows. I never knew love before I found you. You warm even the coldest parts of my soul. I swear to honor and protect you in all things. No matter the difficulty, I will be by your side and whatever may come, you can depend on me. You own my heart. Always.”

A tear fell down Georgina’s cheek. He wiped it away.

“Adrian, my love,” she began. “I too, swear by the stars above us, by the earth beneath us, and by the love between us, that I shall be yours always and forevermore.” Her lips trembled as she fought to gain control of her emotions.

He longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

“You are my love, my breath, my home—something I never truly understood until I found you. I stand before you as a woman who has chosen her heart’s desire.

I vow to walk beside you, through every storm, every joy, every sorrow, and every triumph.

I am yours forever. My love is yours, as sure as the stars in the sky and the tides of the sea.

From this day forth, you own my heart. Always. ”