Highlander Unchained (26 page)

She supposed she could have returned to her cousin’s lodgings in Edinburgh or gone to Hector or Rory, but for all she knew, they would force her into a marriage of their liking. She gazed at the handsome man riding beside her, ignoring the self-satisfied look on his face. Although Lachlan wanted to marry her, he gave every indication that he would not force her to do so—which was more than she could be assured of from her brothers. Marrying him was one way of getting a reprieve from her brothers’ agendas, she thought with a wry smile.

But Flora knew the real reason she’d agreed to stay was that she couldn’t bear the thought of saying good-bye to him.

But that was before he’d tricked her. The wretch. She looked at him again, this time taking in the expression on his face.

On one condition.
She should have known better.

Lachlan glanced at Flora as she rode beside him, her blond hair shimmering like a diamond in the sunlight. The sky was a wide swath of endless blue stretching to the hills rising in the distance. He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in quite some time.

It was a perfect day for a swim.

His companion, however, did not share his enthusiasm. Her expression landed somewhere between peeved and furious.

“Now, lass, don’t look so sour. You did promise. And wasn’t it you who told me that I would get more bees with honey?”

The look she turned on him was scathing. “I don’t think you understand the concept. Honey is not the same thing as blackmail.”

He shrugged unrepentently, trying to hide his smile. “You wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Besides, it won’t be so bad. The water is shallow, and I won’t let go of you. I used to swim at this loch all the time when I was a boy. Actually, it’s more of a small pool. It’s private and sheltered by a thick copse of trees. There will be no one there to see you.”

“You’ll be there,” she said pointedly.

Aye, and he couldn’t wait. Just the thought of her all wet in a thin linen sark made his blood heat. Teaching her to swim would definitely have his rewards. “But I’m harmless,” he said with mocking innocence.

She didn’t even dignify that with a response, simply snorting her disavowal.

They rode a few minutes longer, and he broached the subject that had been bothering him. “Why did you never learn to swim?”

She eyed him carefully, drew a deep breath, and recounted the episode at Inveraray when she was a child. The story made his blood run cold. Twice she’d nearly drowned.

The chilling episode also explained more than her inability to swim. He could almost see the lonely girl—much younger than her siblings—so eager to belong that she was willing to do anything. And he also saw what it had cost her, leaving her firmly entrenched on the outside looking in.

“And you’ve avoided the water ever since?”

She nodded. “Not an easy prospect in the Highlands, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

That was an understatement. Especially in the Isles, where both her brothers resided. He wondered if that perhaps explained some of her reluctance to travel to Dunvegan Castle on Skye, or to Duart Castle on Mull, for that matter.

He frowned, remembering something. “You did not seem unusually nervous on the boat ride to Drimnin.” And as he recalled, the sound had been particularly choppy that day.

His observation appeared to fluster her. He thought a touch of pink heightened her color, but it could have been the effects of the warm day and the vigorous ride.

“I think I was more concerned about the immediate threat of having just been abducted.”

He held her gaze. “You were never in any danger, lass.”

“I wasn’t so sure of that then.” A soft smile turned her lips. “Or now, for that matter.”

It was clear that the prospect of learning how to swim truly frightened her. Perhaps if he’d been aware of the circumstances, he would not have been so forceful in his method of persuasion. But then again, she wouldn’t have agreed. And in this case, the end justified the means.

The lass had every right to her fear, but she could not let it control her. “Trust me, Flora. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He saw a slight shiver run across her shoulders and wished she were closer so that he could gather her in his arms and soothe away her fears.

“You don’t understand. I’ve tried. Truly, I have. But something comes over me in the water. My pulse races so hard that my heart feels weak. My mind goes blank. My entire body goes rigid and my blood runs cold. My hands start to sweat and I feel queasy and light-headed.”

He’d seen men with similar symptoms in battle. It was a type of extreme panic. “Your reaction is certainly understandable under the circumstances. But holding on to your fear has only made you more vulnerable to the very thing that frightens you. And I know you are no coward, Flora.” He held her gaze, telling her with his eyes that he meant what he said. “I won’t lie to you, lass. Teaching you to swim will not make you invincible. I’ve lost too many men to the sea to make such a claim. But it will give you a fighting chance. And believe it or not, there is also great pleasure in it.”

She nodded, but he could tell that she wasn’t convinced.

The copse of trees appeared beyond the hill like an oasis. He hadn’t been to this place in a long time, and unexpected memories of his father came back to him, recalling a more carefree time in his childhood. His father had brought him here one summer when repairs were being done on Breacachadh and the family had moved to Morvern. Only a few years before the death of his mother and then his father only a year later. When there had been time to ride across the moors and to fritter away a long summer day swimming in a loch. It seemed a fitting place for teaching Flora, as this was where he himself had learned to swim. Of course, his father had unceremoniously tossed him in and told him to figure it out—Lachlan had a slightly more civilized method planned for Flora.

He led her through the trees to the small loch. It was exactly as he remembered it. Surrounded by jagged rocks and filled by a burn that led from the mountains, the circular pool was no bigger than a hundred feet in diameter. There was something magical about the place. Without a doubt it was picturesque, with its clear blue green waters, black jagged rocks, and lush emerald green backdrop; but there was more to it than that.

He heard Flora draw in her breath. She turned to him. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”

“The Faerie Pool.”

He half expected her to laugh at the superstitions of the Highlanders who’d given the loch its name, but instead she nodded in agreement. “It suits. I feel like I’m in another world.”

Her response pleased him in a way he couldn’t have imagined. The acknowledgment of the beauty of his land seemed of strange importance. It was as if she were finally relinquishing her old prejudices about the Highlands. She could be happy here. He told himself he would do whatever it took to make her so.

After helping her down, he tended to the horses, giving her time to accustom herself to the place. When he was finished, he removed a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a flagon of claret from his pack, spread out his plaid on the ground, and invited her to sit. She eyed him nervously but did as he instructed. They ate in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature blooming all around them. The song of the skylark, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the gentle trickle of the burn over the rocks as it drained into the loch. He lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching her. Entranced by the way her hair curled around her temple in the heat, the way the sun warmed her pale complexion, the dainty way she ate, and the way she held the flagon to her lips for just a moment too long, betraying her increasing nervousness.

It was time.

He dragged himself to his feet and held out his hand. “Ready?”

She looked up at him, the green flecks in her sea blue eyes even more prominent in the stark sunlight. “I haven’t finished—”

He gave her an encouraging smile. “It won’t get any easier by delay. Come. There is nothing to be scared of.” He looked around meaningfully. “What could go wrong on a day like this?”

A number of unpleasant things came to mind. But rather than voice them, Flora took a deep breath and slid her icy hand into his, drawing immediate strength from the warm, callused palm.

She trusted him. The truth was undeniable. Enough to brave the water and face her darkest fears.

He helped her to her feet and indicated a large boulder near the mouth of the burn. “You can change over there.”

She did as he instructed, making sure to take her time. Her fingers were stiff and shaky as she removed the simple stays that tied in front and the wool gown, both of which she’d borrowed from Mary, grateful for the way it untied at the sides to lift over her head. She couldn’t have done it by herself otherwise, and she didn’t think she could take the feel of his fingers on her right now. She was ready to jump out of her skin. And it wasn’t just the prospect of getting in the water that was putting her on edge.

It was Lachlan.

Something new and poignant had sprung up between them. An ease, a familiarity…an intimacy that had filled her with a deep sense of contentment. By giving her freedom, he’d changed everything. Turning from jailer to suitor in the bat of an eye. Opening up a world of possibilities.

He cleared his throat impatiently. Realizing he was going to come looking for her if she delayed any longer, she stepped out from behind her impromptu dressing chamber.

His brow lifted when he saw her.

She glanced down at the trews and linen shirt that she’d worn under her gown, relieved to see that she was decent. Mostly. “Murdoch borrowed it from your squire,” she explained.

His gaze traveled down the length of her, lingering at her breasts stretching against the tight linen, her hips in the wool trews, to her naked calves and the tips of her bare toes. She saw the heat in his gaze for an instant, before he doused it with a chuckle. “Those clothes don’t look quite the same on you.”

A flush rose to her cheeks at the obvious admiration in his voice.

Admiration that she returned wholeheartedly. He’d removed his shirt and boots and wore only his trews, which hung low on his hips, emphasizing the hard lines of his impressively muscled stomach. A warm, sultry feeling came over her just looking at him. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sight of his naked chest. The vast array of finely sculpted muscle. The strength and overwhelming masculinity. The sheer beauty of his form.

Realizing that she’d been staring, she shifted her gaze to the loch. “It looks cold,” she said, rubbing her arms. “Perhaps we should wait a little while. Until it warms up a bit.”

“It’s one of the hottest days of the year, the water will be as tepid as a bath,” he said patiently. “It will be fine.” He offered her his hand. “Come now, lass. No more delays.”

His voice was adamant but surprisingly gentle. She could try, but she knew in the end he would not be gainsaid. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the water’s edge. Her feet felt weighed down with lead, each step on the rocky dirt path a battle against the overwhelming urge to turn and run. Sensing her building trepidation, he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

Too soon, they reached the soft muddy bank. Not letting go of her hand, he took a few steps into the water and turned around to face her. “Breathe, lass,” he said softly. “One step at a time.”

She shook her head, the breath stuck in her throat. She couldn’t. Fear had taken hold. It was just as she’d described before. The panic had wrapped itself around her like a vise. “I d-d-on’t think I can do this,” she stuttered, looking at him wildly.

“The Holyrood hellion admitting defeat? Is this the same girl who once scaled parapets?” he teased. “What would your friends at court say?”

She scowled at his attempt to prick her pride. “I know very well what you are doing. It won’t work.”

He shrugged none too innocently. The look on his face was so out of character, she nearly laughed. Nearly. Until she looked down at the water looming only inches from her feet.

“Don’t look at the water. Look at me.”

She did as he directed, gazing deep into the steady strength of his piercing blue eyes.
God, he was incredible.
So handsome that he made her insides flip.

The distraction worked. Her pulse slowed, and the tightness constricting her chest released a little. Clasping both her hands, he coaxed her gently into the loch.

At the first touch of the cool water on her toes, she gasped, pulling back instinctively.

He murmured soothing words in lilting Erse, the confidence in his gaze and voice giving her much needed courage.

She shivered as they waded waist deep into the water. Her skin prickled, the tiny hairs on her arms standing straight up. Chilled not from the water, which was pleasantly cool, but from the fear surging through her veins.

He sensed her distress and brought her closer against his chest, wrapping her firmly in his arms and allowing the heat of his body to take the chill from her skin.

“You are doing beautifully, my sweet.”

It didn’t feel like it; she felt like a quivering mess. But she had made it this far.

“I’m just going to lower you a bit more into the water. Are you ready?”

“Isn’t this deep enough?” Her voice quivered noticeably.

“We won’t go any deeper, but you can’t learn to swim standing like this. My arms will be around you the entire time, all right?”

She nodded, and he slowly lowered them into the water, cradling her against him, until he was on his knees and the water lapped around her shoulders. He’d positioned her so that he held her by her waist and chest and her feet floated out to the side. She fought the nausea as the memories took hold, of the suffocating darkness, of the water filling her nose and mouth.

She couldn’t do this. She had to get out of here.

Panic erupted, and she flailed wildly, trying to stand up. But his arms held her close.

“Let me go!” she gasped.

“Shhh…” he said softly. “I have you. You are perfectly safe.”