He snorted. “Important? Maybe to my father. Not to me.”
“So where have you been all day?”
“Attending meetings. My father said he wanted me there so I could see the workings of the estate, understand what it was I’d given up. Horseshit.” She was surprised by the anger and bitterness in his tone. “He wanted me there so he could show off how well the estate has done without me, so I could see how wealthy he’d become, how powerful.” In the darkness, his eyes found hers. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I should have turned him down and given ye that tour I promised. I would much rather have spent the day with ye.”
A little tingle ran through Molly at his words. She told herself that it was just the whisky, but she knew it wasn’t. “Well, James did an admirable job showing me around. I think I could point out all the best fishing spots anywhere on the loch now.”
Conall laughed. “Aye, that sounds about right. James always did like his fishing.”
Molly leaned forward on the bench, the faint scent of smoke and whisky on his skin making her heart beat faster. “So, did you find out anything helpful for your mission?” she asked.
“Aye,” Conall said slowly. His face had grown serious again and Molly could see a crease between his eyebrows. “One of my father’s counselors let slip that an important guest is coming to stay. And from what I could tell, my father wasn’t too happy that he’d told me.” He paused, gazing out at the loch as they rowed across it, his oars slicing through the water like knives.
Molly watched him, wondering what he was thinking. He had come back to his home to investigate his own family, and she wondered how it must feel. She thought back to what James and Annie had said about the Earl being a good man. Who was right?
“Conall, are you sure about this?” she asked at last.
“Sure about what?”
“About your family being involved in something sinister. About them being behind the attack on Lanwick and the weapons coming into Scotland. Because if you’re not sure...” She spread her hands and left the thought hanging.
Conall sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure about anything anymore,” he said after a moment. “Everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.” His gaze settled on her again and she got the impression he was talking about more than just his family.
The rest of the journey across the loch was made in silence, except for the sound of the oars as they dipped and rose in a steady rhythm. After some time, Molly began to make out a dark shape against the horizon—the island.
As soon as their boat touched the dock, Conall leaped out into ankle deep water and tied it off before turning around to help Molly out of the boat. They began walking up the causeway towards the keep.
He stopped before the gates and turned to her. His face was illuminated by the pale moonlight, his eyes glittering in the shadows as he looked down at her.
“Listen, Molly,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “About yesterday. I...er...I owe ye an apology. I shouldnae have done what I did.” He rubbed his chin. “Um... I shouldnae have kissed ye, I mean. It was presumptuous of me and I shouldnae—”
He was stopped by Molly going up on her toes and kissing him. Perhaps it was the whisky, or perhaps it was just because she’d missed him all day, but she suddenly needed to touch him.
He responded immediately, his lips moving softly against hers, gentle yet insistent in their exploration. Molly felt herself melting into him as desire rose up within her, hot and biting. They kissed until they were both breathless and panting for air, and only then did Conall pull away slightly to look down at her in the moonlight.
He caught his breath for a second before pressing his forehead against hers with a sigh.
“Was that presumptuous of me?” she asked in a whisper.
“Well, if it was, ye can presume all ye like,” the hoarse answer came back.
Molly gazed up at him. She had never felt like this before—so completely consumed by another person, so swept away by the intensity of her own feelings. She searched his face, searching for some hint of what he was thinking, but found only a look of quiet intensity in his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” she said finally.
Conall smiled at her, the corners of his lips quirking up in an expression of pure delight. “Aye?” he said, his voice low and husky. “Then I wouldnae want to disappoint ye.”
He captured her lips in another searing kiss, his hands coming up to cup her face as he deepened their connection. Molly twined her fingers in his hair as she lost herself in the sensation of his body pressed against hers. She could tell how much he wanted her from the bulge that pressed against her stomach. And, oh how she wanted him too. She wanted him to—
A sudden sound broke the stillness: something scraping and then the soft plop of water.
Conall spun, breaking the kiss and looking around, a hound suddenly on a scent.
“What was that—” Molly began but Conall pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.
He cocked his head, listening intently. He pointed to the left and Molly followed him as they crept around the castle walls. They hunkered down behind a tumble of old fishing nets and peered out.
The noise came again—it sounded like something being dragged across stone—and Molly felt an icy chill run up her spine. Conall grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, before he got to his feet and motioned for her to follow him. They moved carefully through the darkness towards the sound until they finally reached an area where the castle walls came right down into the water with no shore at their base.
