open the door, announcing that they had arrived at Gretna Green. She stared at the man across from her, ‘Do you agree to my terms, Mr Felkirk?’
‘Call me Adam, my dear.’ He was staring at her with increased intensity, and for a moment she feared that he meant a closer relationship than she intended. And then he said, ‘I am sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name. Oh, well. No matter. Why are we stopping?’
‘We are in Gretna Green.’
‘There was something you wanted me to do, wasn’t there?’
‘Sign a licence?’ she prompted.
‘Of course! Let us do that, then. And then we shall have some more brandy.’ He seemed to think it was all jolly fun, and reached for the door handle, nearly losing his balance as Jem opened it in front of him. The servant caught his elbow and helped him down out of the coach, before reaching a hand up to help Penny.
When they were on the ground together, Adam offered his arm to her. She took it, and found herself leading him, steadying him, more than he ever could her. But he went along, docile as a lamb.
She led him to the blacksmith, and listened as Jem explained to the man what was required.
‘Well, git on wi’ it, then. I have horses ta shoe.’ He looked critically at Penny. ‘Da ya mean ta ha’ him?’
‘I do,’ she said formally, as though it mattered.
‘Yer sure? He’s a drunkard. They cause no end a trouble.’
‘I wish to marry him, all the same.’
‘And you, sir. Will ya ha’ the lady?’
‘Marriage?’ Adam grinned. ‘Oh, I say. That is a lark, isn’t it?’ He looked down at her. ‘I cannot remember quite why, but I must have intended it, or I wouldn’t be in Scotland. Very well. Let us be married.’
‘Done. Yer married. Na off with you. I ha’ work ta do.’ He turned back to his horses.
‘That is all?’ Penny asked in surprise. ‘Is there a paper to be signed? Something that will prove what we have done?’
‘If ya wanted a licence, ya coulda staid on yer own side o’ the border, lass.’
‘But I must have something to show to my brother, and the solicitors of course. Can you not provide for us, sir?’
‘I canna write, so there is verra little I ca’ do for ya, less ya need the carriage mended, or the horse shoed.’
‘I will write it myself, then. Jem, run back to the carriage and find me some paper, and a pen and ink.’
The smith was looking at her as if she were daft, and Adam laughed, patted the man on the back and whispered something in his ear, offering him a drink from the brandy flask, which the Scot refused.
Penny stared down at the paper before her. What didshe need to record? A marriage had taken place. The participants. The location. The date.
There was faint hammering in the background and the hiss of hot metal as it hit the water.
Their names, of course. She spelled Felkirk as she expected it to be, hoping that she was not showing her ignorance of her new husband by the misspelling of her new surname.
She glanced down at the paper. It looked official, in a sad sort of way. Better than returning with nothing to show her brother. She signed with a bold hand and indicated a spot where Jem could sign as witness.
Her new husband returned to her side from the forge, where he had been watching the smithy. He held a hand out to her. ‘Now here, angel, is the trick if you want to be legal. Not married without a ring, are you?’ He was holding something small and dark between the fingers of his hand. ‘Give over.’ He reached for her.
‘I think your signature is all that is needed. And that of the smith, of course.’ She smiled hopefully at the smith. ‘You will be compensated, sir, for the trouble.’
At the mention of compensation, he took the pen and made his mark at the bottom of the paper.
‘Here, here, sir.’ Her husband took another drink, in the man’s honour. ‘And to my wife.’ He drank again. ‘Your Grace.’
She shook her head. ‘Now, you are mistaking me for someone else,