Domhnall opened his mouth to answer, then stopped, because Margaret had reached for the fastening at the back of her gown. He couldn’t help but stare.
“Margaret, what are ye daein’?” he asked, although the answer to that was pretty clear.
She glanced over her shoulder as she loosened the ties with practical calm.
“Preparing tae enter the water.”
“That is obvious.”
The gown slid from her shoulders and she folded it carefully, placing it beside her shoes on the rock. Beneath it she wore only her long linen shift. It fell to her calves, the thin fabric catching faintly in the breeze.
It was modest and entirely proper for bathingalone. Yet Domhnall found himself abruptly uncertain where to look. Margaret noticed immediately. Her mouth curved with quiet satisfaction.
Domhnall cleared his throat. “I thought ye came here fer a walk.”
“And now I am going fer a swim.”
“That was nae part of the plan.”
“Yer challenge suggested otherwise.”
He still couldn’t believe that she would do it. He could not think of a single woman who would wade into the freezing loch just to prove a point.
“Ye take challenges far too seriously,” he shook his head. “Just… stay there.”
Margaret stepped to the edge of the rock, then gave him a wicked look.
“In that case, ye should nae offer challenges so carelessly.”
Then she stepped into the loch. The cold water struck her ankles first. Margaret inhaled sharply.
“Oh, sweet heavens!” she hissed and gasped, pressing her hand to her chest.
Domhnall laughed despite himself. “Aye.”
“That is freezing!”
“It’s the loch.”
She waded another step forward, the water climbing over her calves. The thin linen of her shift darkened where it touched the water. Margaret shivered as the water reached her knees.
“Ye dae this every morning?”
He was still smiling as he watched her come closer to him. “Nae every morning, and usually without witnesses.”
She shot him a look. “I am nae a witness.”
“What would ye call yerself then?”
“A critic,” she said with a dignified tilt of her head.
“That explains a great deal,” he smiled.
Margaret moved another step deeper, then despite the cold, another. The water surged higher and her breath caught again as the cold reached her thighs. Domhnall took a step forward through the water. The distance between them narrowed again. The loch rippled softly around them, cold and clear, the morning light sliding across the surface like pale silver. Margaret stood watching him with her arms folded lightly across herself as though defying the chill.
“Ye should come farther in,” Domhnall urged gently.
She raised a brow. “This is already quite far enough.”
