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“I was supposed to be tendin’ sheep with Duncan when we found this place,” Alisdair revealed, settling down on a large rock and looking out at the view.

“Let me guess,” Isla drawled. “Ye werenae.”

“Duncan was,” Alisdair replied. “I managed to escape and ended up finding this spot.”

“And ye come here to escape ever since.”

He looked at her. She was staring at the sea gleaming under the sun.

“Aye.”

“And what are ye escapin’ now?” She turned to him.

They held each other’s gaze for a while, and Alisdair realized this was the most they had talked.

It was true, he was running from something. Perhaps the way he noticed her before he saw her, how his eyes followed her no matter how hard he tried. How her sadness was unbearable to him.

And now here she was, in the one spot where he usually came to put things in order, and he found it hard to concentrate as the light reflecting off the blue sea softened her.

“Alisdair?” she prompted.

“Duncan.”

She blinked.

“I am escapin’ Duncan.”

She stared at him for a heartbeat and then burst into laughter. “Ye are a terrible liar.”

“I am an excellent liar,” he quipped.

They both looked out at the view for a while, the silence growing comfortable between them.

“I had a spot too. Nae as breathtaking as this one, but it was mine,” Isla admitted.

“Back in Sinclair Castle?”

Her face darkened. “There was no escaping Sinclair Castle. But back in me faither’s castle.”

Alisdair said nothing. He knew well how difficult it was to dredge up bad memories.

“There was a great pine tree there,” Isla murmured. “No sunlight would come through. I went there whenever I wanted to escape needlework.”

Alisdair snorted.

“Daenae laugh,” she chastised him. “I hated it. Prickled me fingers each time.” A pause. “I will never get to see that pine tree again.”

Something in Alisdair’s chest tightened at the sight of her like this. He tried reminding himself that she was only a wife of strategy, but his mind refused to cooperate.

“Ye can have this place,” he offered.

She turned to him, her eyes a little wet, and shook her head. “It isnae good,” she teased. “I need somewhere to hide from ye too.”

Alisdair laughed. Then he rose to his feet and offered her his hand. “Hiding from yer husband?”

“Especially from me husband.” She took his hand.

They rode back toward the castle, still carrying the feel of that hidden spot with them, the castle itself not yet visible over the hills ahead.