He were only here for his ma, nothing else. He were to accompany his ma to a ball, nothin' else. Until you came into the room. With those pretty eyes and that soft fabric bouncing about on your hips. How could he not?

Being a Scot with a busy life, he had no time to marry... He did have time to fuck around and mess about. His ma had asked him to come with her to London, how could he say no?

And yet he finds himself here in the garden, your legs around his waist and his arms grabbing what he could while his lips travelled your exposed skin. He wasn't aware of any rules here. He never usually listens anyway. He wasn't aware of the need for marriage before any sort of intimacy.

So he didn't mind that someone had saw the both of you, even pushing up against you to make you moan out his name, loud enough for the person to hear. You, unaware, melted within his grasp. He liked that. You thought you caught a glimpse of a figure from afar, too dazed to think much about it.

"Bonnie lad/lass.. Tha's it.. Ye like my mouth on yer skin, mmh?"

You could feel him smirk against your neck, although you could feel his gaze elsewhere, where the pillars were gathered.