Page 94 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph

“As important asthatis, lass,” he murmured. “I had some other order of business in mind.”

He pulled out the knife that he had given her—what felt like a lifetime ago now—as proof that she could trust him. It had become, without either of them saying a word, the possession that they most treasured.

“I feel like this wee knife,” Edward said, “embodies me own past, the time in both of our lives when we found ourselves drawn together, the closin’ of a chapter in yer life and now, well, it’ll mark the future fer us both.”

Charlotte smiled up at him. The stars were visible through the branches of the sweet chestnut tree that covered them like the dome of some natural cathedral.

“What do you mean, Edward?” she asked.

Edward knelt down, cut a tussock of grass away from the base of the tree and pointed. In the dim light, Charlotte could just make out two names, carved inexpertly into the very base of the trunk. The names were so low that they could really only be found by chance, or by one who already knew that they were there.

“Those are me mither and faither’s names,” Edward said. “The two of ‘em carved them here on their weddin’ night.” He looked up at Charlotte. “Now, it is our turn.”

Each of them carved the other person’s name into the base of the huge sweet chestnut tree, slightly around the trunk from the name of Edward’s parents.

“Did ye ken that, when I was a young lad, I took part in a wee bit o’ prophesying with some friends o’ mine?” Edward said.

“No, I did not know that,” Charlotte said. It was hard to imagine this brave, strong man doing anything like that. “What did you do, and why?”

“It was a way to find out what the letter the name of yer future wife would start with,” Edward said. He glanced at Charlotte and grinned. “So ye kenned who to look out fer!”

Charlotte prodded him in the ribs and he laughed. “How did you do it?” she asked.

“Me and my friends, we all of us took an apple and pared it, so that the skin came off all in one long strip, then, at midnight, we whirled the strip of apple peelin’ around our heads and over our left shoulders. Whatever letter it formed was the name o’ the lass ye’d marry.”

Charlotte snorted. “And?”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “An incredulous man might be inclined to believe that Cs would be maybe the easiest letter to see. But, still...”

Charlotte laughed again and put her head against his arm.

They stood a while looking down, each of them lost in their own secret thoughts.

Charlotte was marveling, in the privacy of her own head, just how unpredictable life was.

Truly, one does not know what is around the next corner. Just when things seem darkest, light and hope can be kindled. And love can be bought with pain. Such is the world.

After a few moments Edward stirred. He took Charlotte by the hand. His own hand was warm and strong—honest somehow. Scarred and callused through work and fighting.

“I love you very much indeed,” she said suddenly to him.

Edward picked her up in his arms and twirled her around so that she shrieked with delight.

“Aye,” he said, “and I love ye, Sassenach.”

He set her down, and they walked back towards the celebrations.

“Are ye ready fer the breakin’ of the bridescake?” Edward asked, as they made their way through the tall, sweet-smelling grass.

“The breaking of the bridescake?” Charlotte asked. She felt like there was so much that she did not know. “What does that entail?”

Edward took her hand and kissed it as they made their way back towards the festivities.

“Well, me faither will break a piece o’ the weddin’ cake over yer head. If it crumbles into small pieces then our union will be a fruitful one.”

“Hm,” Charlotte said, her tone innocent, “so if it just breaks in two then we should give up all hope of children, should we?”

Edward stopped her dead in the middle of the meadow, under the innumerable stars that shone down on that little piece of the Scottish Highlands, which they were lucky enough to call their own.

Edward’s voice was a deep, pleasant rumble. “Do nae be ridiculous, Sassenach,” he said. “Superstition is one thing, but ye ken that I am nae a man to give up just because he’s been told he cannae do or have a thing.”

Charlotte marveled at just how happy she was at that moment in time. It really was, she was quite sure, the happiest she had been in her entire life.

“My, my,” she said, placing her hand on Edward’s muscled chest, “I suppose that means that, depending on what the cake does, there might be some serious work ahead of us...”

“I ‘spose there could be, aye.”

“Well,” Charlotte said, “I’m willing to put the time in if you are.”

The End?