Sorry for the wait, everyone.

It was just a little before the group breaking of the fast. Evey had awoken just as the first ray of sunlight hit the sky. Although she was exhausted, her mind was buzzing far too much to let her rest more than a few hours. How late had she stayed up last night, thinking? It seemed only natural that she should wake up to just that, thinking.

Why punish her ladies for her wild mind? Evey dressed herself as best as she could, choosing a simple gown instead of the elaborate one she knew her mother expected her to wear. She wanted to get something from the kitchen, to walk off some of the anxiety that came from yesterday. When she'd return, that was when she would dress properly for the feast with the clans.

Evey didn't have to focus terribly much on where she was going. Her feet traveled with a mind of their own, tracing the path she often took to the kitchen without command. All the while, she was wondering what would happen for the next week. After all, a week with the…"wrong" people could make it last forever and a day.

Just as she got to the door, to push through it and grab an apple, she bumped into someone. The young lady was about to apologize to the servant – no one else besides her would be up that early – when she froze. The person she walked into froze as well.

"George."

"Evey."

Their names left each other's lips with ease. A moment passed, then another. Evey finally cleared her throat although her body remained poised and tense. "I believe you should call me 'Lady Elward', sir." She had to reign it back, to bring it round to their statuses once more.

It didn't help that there was a flesh of hurt in George's brilliant eyes as he stood up straight. He was a good few inches over her, a little shorter than Lord Macintosh…if you counted the height of his hair. "Of course, Lady Elward." He spoke almost in regret. "Though in just a few days," he added, "it should be Lady Macintosh, won't it?"

Evey's cheeks warmed and she suddenly wished it was winter instead of spring. At least then she could hide her embarrassment – if it were winter, she wouldn't be facing her old heart right now. "You always find a way to be so…"

"Intimate?" George offered the word. They had had that sort of…relationship back then. They could guess what the other meant and would suggest a word to match it.

Evey's jaw tensed. "Insolent." There was a pause before she spoke again. "If you'll excuse me, musician."

She made her way around him but just as she pushed the door open slightly, he spoke. "Before, it made sense…your silence, that is. Now that we are no longer an ocean apart, your indifference confuses and injures me, m'lady. You may be just a stone's throw away, but you feel a world distant."

While not all poets were musicians, all musicians were poets – so the saying went. And how accurate it was now. Evey's hand was shaking, her heart speeding up. She couldn't look at him, she didn't dare. Who knew how she might react if she saw his hurt look, his suspiciously bright eyes, his soft features…

And who knew who may be listening in right then and there. The last thing she needed was someone like Vailean's friends, their servants, Annis, or another clans' servants to hear all of this. The wedding would be called off and she would be shamed into an early grave, laughed all the way back to England. She couldn't risk that.

"You go too far, Mr. Smeaton." Though her voice was stern, her body trembled. "You know nothing of my person, so I beg you to refrain from making such a public spectacle of yourself about it. Good day." She pushed on. She always had to push on.

They were of different worlds, different lives. They both knew it. Had she not told the Macintosh men about George though, assuring them that he was gone and done with? She thought her words had been true, but she never expected to see the man again. She never thought she'd hear his sweets once more once. And god, she had forgotten the effect he had on her.

But she couldn't risk it all now. She went through the kitchen and grabbed whatever piece of fruit was on the counter, grateful that no one had been hiding in and listening. She did not love George like she once did. She adored Vailean and Magnus. She loved Scotland now. It was no longer a duty to do, but a desire she wanted to fufill.

And in order to do that, she had to be stern with her past.

Even if her heart wasn't entirely certain in the decision, she still did what was proper.

Damn propriety.

Quick chapter written up at midnight. The next chapter will have some Evey/Macintosh men, Evey/George nonsense. Maybe a little more of her mother/family. Soon though…all three men will be talking. And watch out when they do!