Page 63 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

There was a path leading away from the door, the sort of path that had been worn away by countless feet over the years. The woods pressed in closely around, the earth smelling of wet grass and turned earth.

She knew more or less where she was going, though. She’d seen it on the carriage ride here.

Sure enough, the path wound through the trees for a little while longer, then opened up onto the shores of a shimmering, iridescent loch. The moonlight shone down onto the shifting water, turning it silver. In the background, the hills rose up high.

She remembered following the road up and down those steep hills, the carriage shuddering underneath them. She didn’t think she’d ever been as sick as she was through that endless journey.

But that didn’t matter now. None of it did.

Carefully setting her lantern down on a flat rock, she advanced down the shaley shore toward the waterline. It was probably too cold for a swim, and in any case, she didn’t much feel like slopping all the way back up to that little doorway, soaking wet, for that sentry to laugh at her.

Besides, it was probably dangerous to swim in the dark. Alone.

Still, she pulled off her boots and left them beside the lantern, before picking her way across the pebbles. She moved close enough for the water to lap over her feet, cool and silky.

Breathing in, she closed her eyes, letting the murmur of the water wash over her.

I did the right thing by coming here. I ken that I did.

Suddenly, the pebbles crunched behind her. She froze, her eyes shooting open.

“Before ye start to panic and do something foolish like leaping into the loch, let me assure ye that it’s just me,” came a low, faintly amused voice.

She spun around, nearly losing her balance and splashing backward into the water.

“Hunter,” she gasped. “What are ye doing here?”

He stood back in the shadows, the breeze blowing his kilt around him. He wore a loose shirt beneath, with no cloak or coat over it.

“I could ask ye the same,” he drawled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Odd time for a wee walk.”

“Well, I couldnae go during the daylight hours. Willow wanted to play. God kens I spend little enough time with her as it is. Go on, then. Tell me what an awful mother I am, sneaking out and leaving me wee lass sleeping alone in our room.”

He took a step toward her. “Daenae snap at me, lass. I’m nae going to say anything of the sort. I only wanted to tell ye that this used to be me favorite spot, once upon a time. And this time of day is good. It’s beautiful in the moonlight, but sunset is better. I prefer sunrise, because ye get to watch a new day start. It’s beautiful.”

Daphne bit her lip, feeling a rush of guilt. “I didnae mean to presume.”

“Daenae worry, lass, I take nay offence. Come, sit.”

He moved forward, carefully moving the lantern and her boots from the flat rock, and sat on the edge, leaving a spot for her to sit. Tentatively, she inched toward him, pebbles sticking to her wet feet.

“Ye daenae come here anymore?” she queried.

He shook his head. “No time. Running a keep is busy work, to say nothing of managing the clan itself. I actually daenae ken if many people ken about this spot. The loch is popular, of course, but folks mostly follow the main path out of the keep and take the east road, which takes them to the opposite side. It’s good for swimming, but ye daenae get the same view of the hills.”

Daphne gingerly lowered herself onto the rock beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room, so their hips and shoulders pressed together.

Almost at once, she thought that she’d made a mistake. She could feel him, a sensation running through her like a live thing, tingling and taking her breath away.

He made no move to lean toward her or do anything except look out at the loch. She stole a quick look at him, the moonlight illuminating his profile.

“Did ye miss Scotland?” he asked abruptly, not looking at her. “While ye were away, I mean.”

“Aye,” Daphne answered at once, not needing to take time to think. “I missed it a lot. England is beautiful in its own way. Very green, very mild. But I missed the Highlands more than I could have ever imagined. I… I’m glad to be back.”

He turned to face her. She could feel his eyes on her.

“Is that all ye missed?” he whispered.