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Trevor was sitting in the local inn, taking in supper and warming his stomach with some ale. His coat was stained with mud thanks to the altercation with the girl from earlier. He couldn’t help but replay the incident in his mind because there was something quite captivating about her and something that seemed different from the other people in the village.

The tavern was a cozy building and was far busier than the one he had stopped in on the way there. The people of the village were in good spirits, which he put down to the Beltane festival. Wreaths were draped all over the village, and other decorations had been hung as well to signal the arrival of summer. Even though they had been busy with this, it hadn’t escaped their attention that a stranger was in their midst, and from the way they looked at him, they weren’t used to receiving strangers.

Because of the crude map, he couldn’t be completely confident that this was the village he sought. In his experience of the Highlands so far, he knew that they had settlements and villages tucked away in the strangest places. It didn’t help that the people were not forthcoming with information either. Whenever he asked about Lyndsay Smythe or an Englishwoman, a steely look came upon their eyes, and they all claimed that they knew nothing of such a person.

Such a blanket denial made him suspect they knew more than they were letting on, and his suspicion was fueled by the reaction of the woman beforehand. There had been a twitch in her eyes that suggested she was surprised, so he assumed that Lyndsay was indeed in the village. It was just a matter of finding her now. He was willing to bide his time as he knew that if he pressed too forcefully, the people of the village might well take offense and seek to throw him out. While he had confidence that he could put up a good fight, even he wasn’t naïve enough to believe he could take on an entire village by himself.

The stew there was thicker than the one he had tasted at the inn, and the meat was better quality. Thick bread accompanied the broth, as well as a knob of cheese. The ale slid down his throat well, and he pricked up his ears, listening in on the conversation around him to see if he could pick up on any tasty morsels. Most of the conversation revolved around the festival and the plans people had, as well as some idle gossip about people who seemed to be tangled in a web of romance.

Since nobody was willing to speak to him about Lyndsay, Trevor knew he was going to have to be a little more surgical in his effort to find her. He was certain that at least one person was going to be willing to speak to him if he showed them enough coin, although perhaps they were afraid to sell their knowledge in front of the others. He examined the people to see who might be weak enough to give him what he needed. The only other recourse he had was to sneak around all the houses and peer into the windows, which he was not prepared to do.

There was one man who presented himself as a worthy target. He was in the middle of a game of cards and was not enjoying any share of luck. One hand followed another where he slammed his cards on the table and threw up his hands in frustration, bemoaning the gods for cursing him. Others around him muttered that he shouldn’t speak about the gods that way and that perhaps they were giving him a sign that he should stop playing. The surly man glowered and ignored their warning, instead throwing down yet more coin and collecting some cards.

From the look on the man’s face, Trevor could tell the gods had not favored him in this instance either, and it would surely only be a matter of time until the coin had slipped through his fingers. Trevor sipped his drink and waited for the opportune moment when he could strike.

As it happened, he didn’t need to wait for this man at all. The door opened, and his gaze darted to see who was coming into the tavern. He arched an eyebrow when he saw the girl from earlier. She was a pretty thing, with blonde hair that she decided to hide under a shawl, a trim figure, and pale blue eyes. There was a certain kind of strength about her as well. It was in the way she moved, he decided, like a ship surging through the waves, inexorable in its purpose and unable to be restrained once it had reached its full speed.

He imagined that perhaps she was at the inn to meet some friends or even a romantic companion, but instead, she headed straight for his table and didn’t wait for an invitation to join him. She pulled out a chair and sat opposite him, meeting his gaze.

“Hello again,” he said.

She bowed her head, and as she did so, a few locks of blonde hair brushed against her cheek. She swept them back. So far, he hadn’t seen anyone else with the same color hair.

“I’m surprised to see you. You rushed off so quickly before,” he added.

“Aye, I apologize for that. I was a wee bit shaken. I should hae made sure ye were alright.”

“The only damage was to my coat, and I suppose a little to my pride. I’m not usually knocked off my feet like that,” Trevor punctuated his words with a smile. “And I am a little surprised that I did not get your name…”

“Emma,” she said, and he noticed that she did not offer her last name.

“Well Emma, it’s a pleasure to have you join me. I couldn’t help but notice that people were keeping their distance. Are Englishmen not welcome here?”

Emma snorted. “If ye hae tae ask that, then ye truly are new tae the Highlands. Dinnae ye know about the history between the countries?” she asked, laughing.

“I’ve never been much of a student of history.” Trevor waved his hand dismissively through the air. “As far as I’m concerned, I have never done any harm to a Scotsman, so why should they have a problem with me?”

“I dinnae think it’s that simple,” she said.

“And yet you are here with me. Would you like a drink?” he asked. “If it’s not beneath you to drink with a Scotsman, that is.”

“It is nae,” she said, and called out to the innkeeper, who promptly brought over a mug of wine. Emma licked the dark stain from her lips, the soft, full lips that twitched and curled into a beautiful smile.

“Here’s to a better relationship between our people,” Trevor said, lifting his mug.

Emma pressed hers against his and they drank to the toast, although neither took their eyes off each other.

“Sae what is an Englishman daeing sae far from home?” Emma asked.

“I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?”

Trevor arched an eyebrow, for Emma’s questions were blunt and hardly subtle at all. Did he detect fear in her eyes?

“Well…that’s really between myself and the person I’m looking for.”