Page 59 of In the Highlander's Bed

Besides, they were wrong. She wasn’t brave. She’d never reveal the depth of her feelings for Gordon. What if he didn’t share them? It would crush her.

The subject was dropped. The other two women talked of the weather or gossiped over some bit of camp nonsense as Constance busied herself with the laundry, Fiona and Grace’s words heavy on her mind.

A part of herwantedto lay her soul bare to Gordon. But her pride wouldn’t let her. After all, she was a Cameron. She’d learned the hard way how to hold her head high.

Still, shewasanxious to see Gordon, and in the back of her mind, Grace’s words were taking hold.

Unfortunately, he did not make an appearance at supper. Constance overheard Fiona askafter him. One of the men said that he’d struck off on horseback an hour ago. Not even Thomas knew where he was going or to what purpose.

That left Constance alone. Again.

She wondered if he’d left because he received some word from the duke. The thought spoiled her appetite. Later, she paced the confines of the tent. The hour came when she usually went to bed. Instead, she waited, folding and refolding the clothes. Tad watched her as if he, too, worried.

At last Constance couldn’t take it any longer. “Why am I such a fool?” she asked Tad aloud.

The dog wagged his tail, an agreeable grin on his face.

“He can’t love me. He doesn’t have anything to give, not with this rebellion brewing.”

Tad’s response was to come over and nudge one hand with his wet nose.

Constance pushed her hair back with her hand, giving the dog’s head a pat with the other. “It’s not meant to be,” she whispered. “It never was. Grace and Fiona don’t understand, but I do.” She wanted to cry.

Suddenly, the close confines of the tent, of being surrounded by what he owned, threatened to overwhelm her. A Cameron didn’t cry over what couldn’t be changed.

Grabbing the Lachlan tartan she used as a shawl, Constance went outside. The damp night air felt good against her overheated skin. She skirted the edges of the camp, wanting to be alone. Tad trotted at her heels.

She walked in the opposite direction of the Cliffs, where she might run into someone she knew. She skirted past the stables and took the route along the shoreline.

There was a ring around the moon, a sign that the weather would change. Already clouds were drifting across the sky.

She should have brought the lantern with her, she thought. She’d left it burning in the tent. But she was just as happy to move without being seen. Tall firs lined the shore, giving her a sense of being enveloped by nature and the night. Tad left to chase game, his usual routine.

She had to concentrate on where she was going to keep from tripping—and yet, she could not rid her mind of Gordon.

Constance stopped at the edge of a small cove. So this was what it was like to love someone? They consumed your thoughts, your well-being. Such strong emotion could not be healthy. She’d been happier before he came into her life.

She decided that a swim was what sheneeded. She’d grown up on the edges of the Ohio River. Cold water would clear her mind, and the brazenness of the act would exert her independence.

Before common sense could intrude, Constance tore off her clothes to her petticoats. Tossing moccasins and skirts aside, she ran into the loch, moving fast, knowing from experience that the best way to fend off the first icy shock was speed.

It worked. She was three steps in, the water barely up to her knees, and the last thing on her mind was Gordon Lachlan. One quick dip under and she’d be so frozen she wouldn’t be able to think of anything but a warm fire.

She turned to rush back to shore when, belatedly, she realized she wasn’t alone.

A tall shadow of a man stood some ten feet away from her.

She ducked down in the water for cover, even as he made a sound of surprise.It was Gordon.

He had no trouble recognizing her, either. “Constance? What you are doing here?”

“Bathing?” she suggested, panic making her stupid. Or perhaps it was the cold. The shivers set in. Dear mercy, the water tightened her skin to numbness. “What are you doing?”

“I’d gone for a walk. I went to the tent, sawyou were up, and thought to give you a bit more privacy.”

No amount of cold water could keep the thought from her mind that what he’d actually meant was that he was wasting time until she was asleep again.

“Come here,” he said, sounding worried. “That water is too cold to stand in.”