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Well, that was interesting. “Sexual tension, you’d say?”
“Most likely,” the younger man said.
Despite his gallantry with the ladies, Lachlan was the hot-headed one of the family, not Fingal. But Drostan needed only to remember how his second brother had treated him the day he went to the stockyard to see the lass in action. Fingal had looked very much…jealous. “Should I tell her to stay here, you think?”
At that, Lachlan snapped his eyes to the laird. “She holds her own quite easily.”
She would; she seemed the strong-willed type. Question was if Fingal would hold his own, seeing as he’d got
to the punching point with his younger brother. Not that he blamed any man for wanting a woman. He was in no position to judge as he could not keep his hands from Freya even after years of marriage.
“No one is pressing him with the McTavish chit,” Drostan mused. “We could delay the affair.”
“Said he’s sure of his decision,” the younger man informed him.
So Lachlan must have taunted Fingal, if he understood his brothers the way he thought he did. No wonder Fingal lost his temper.
“What about you?” Drostan asked. “Any lass with whom I should help you make a match?”
“Ha, too soon,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand.
“Soon? You’re thirty!”
“Aye, time flies,” Lachlan jested.
“There are a few proposals on the table, should you care to look into them,” the laird told him.
“I might,” the younger man agreed. “But I’d like to enjoy my freedom a little longer.”
“Take your time.” The McKendrick finished his whisky. “Just don’t wait until you’re old enough to be a grandpa.” And he stood up to go get ready for dinner.
“Not a bad idea,” Lachlan said under his breath.
After luncheon, Catriona took Debranua for a ride. Another day with a warm sun and blue sky made her contemplate how it was a good decision to come to Scotland this summer. She veered through a track leading east and let her eyes drank in the green land around her.
Rides in the country always held the power to calm her but would not give back these sleepless nights staring at the embroidered canopy above her head. Should the blasted laird think her punctuality was due to a restoring night, he would be in for a fall. She started early exactly because she got exasperated waiting for sleep and jumped out of the fluffy bed as soon as she could.
She must leave and would if Fiadhaich was ready to do everything she knew him to be capable of. She possessed no doubt he approached that point. In the last weeks his progress had been steady as he became more confident and realised people here would not mistreat him. Catriona sensed him close to bearing a rider. Her happiness flowed so intensely that tears came to her eyes. The horse had suffered too much and deserved a second chance, poor thing. After that, she would be done and free to leave. The horse came first; he was the reason she had come here, after all.
It did not take long until mare and amazon came across a loch. It must be the one she saw from her window though it sat amidst high trees. The placid water reflected the blue above, the soothing silence broken only by numerous birds. Dismounting, she let the mare drink from the fresh water while she stood on the grass, sighing at the view.
If only the blasted laird did not stir these feelings, this would have been the perfect reprieve from unattractive London. Not that she was complaining. The chance to come to the Highlands had been a precious one. But the strain to keep the man at arm’s length took its toll. She felt emotionally drained, like she was using her last resources. She just hoped she did not snap before she reached the grey, sooty city. The mere thought of their exchange in the entrance hall on Sunday got her skin feverish. The awareness of emptiness in her core rose to an unbearable point.
Her eyes darted to the loch. Its inviting water gave her the urge to swim. Memories of her girlhood flitted in her head. Anna and she used to go swimming in the lake near their manor on sunny days like this. Her father had taught them to swim before they had even learned to count. It became second nature to Catriona.
She did not hesitate. Her hat had already been discarded on the grass under the tree where the mare stood tethered. Boots and stockings followed the same route. Her hands lifted her ample skirts before she submerged her feet in the loch. Oh, it was deliciously fresh! Her eyes peered into the surrounding woods, but there was not a soul in the vicinity. Dare she swim? After undressing, that is. No waste of time thinking twice. In rapid movements she undressed and piled the clothes neatly under the tree. In her flimsy chemise and nothing else, she entered the water at a point hidden by the foliage. It soothed her overheated skin like paradise. Practised arms and legs swam from right to left and back again, her chemise floating with her movements. Better not stay long lest someone come, she warned herself, but she continued to revel in the water a while longer. Five minutes more and she would leave.
Not even a minute had elapsed when she heard horse hooves pounding on the earth. Her body lowered deeper into the water, garment glued to her curves, and she turned to the shore.
Tall, broad, and compelling, the giant stood on the shore, gazing straight at her. “Well, well, never thought a stifled Sassenach miss would shed her precious garments and enjoy a dip.”
She looked at him, trying not to stare too much, her heart at high speed with surprise and—sod it—anticipation. “What are you doing here?” she blurted.
“Hot day is it?” he said as if he met with her half-naked person every day. “Had the same idea, you know, cold water and all.”
“Alright. Give me a moment to dress and leave,” she said as though she did this every single afternoon, winter included. “Then you can have the lake for yourself.”
“Oh, no!” His square hand raised to the pin fixing the tartan on his shoulder. “I have you exactly where I never dreamed I would.” He undid the pin, and the tartan fell. “Stay right where you are,” he commanded.
