Rose leaned back against the wooden panels that made up the back wall of the stall and she pulled Andrew towards her as they kissed. It felt more natural now than it had before. No longer was she concerned with the strategies of finding a husband. Andrew was going to be her husband. He loved her. Or at least he thought she was pretty. And she could surrender to all this delightful excitement, the joy of knowing that someone loved her, and the wonderful feeling of his strong arms.

Henry crossed her mind again.

He was an asshole.

It was suddenly so clear. When he pulled back, she beamed at him, but there was a burning sensation in her eyes of tears forming. She let out a shaky laugh and gave him a playful push. "Are ye complainin'?