Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Duncan had known he was not alone for several moments before he chose to acknowledge it.
The loch was rarely so obliging as to keep secrets. Sound carried easily across its still surface, and even the careful step of a cautious observer could disturb the morning quiet.
He had heard the rustle of reeds and then, silence. It was that particular kind of silence that belonged only to someone attempting very earnestly not to be noticed.
He continued swimming for a few strokes, if only to confirm his suspicion. When he finally turned back toward the shore, the figure standing just beyond the reeds became impossible to miss.
Elaina.
Duncan’s mouth curved slowly.
“Well now,” he said mildly, water lapping softly around his shoulders as he paused in the shallows, “if ye intend tae spy on a man during his morning swim, lass, ye might consider choosing a hiding place that actually hides ye.”
There was a small gasp from the bank.
A moment later Elaina stepped out from behind the reeds with the air of someone who had been deeply wronged.
“I wasnae hiding.”
Her cheeks, Duncan noted with considerable satisfaction, were very nearly the same color as the rowan berries that grew along the castle walls.
“Of course, ye were nae,” he agreed gravely.
He remained where he was in the water, with one arm resting lazily against a smooth stone while the rest of him remained submerged. The loch clung to his skin and his dark hair in cold droplets.
Elaina did her very best not to look at him. Unfortunately for her, Duncan noticed that, as well.
“I merely happened tae be walking toward the lake,” she continued, lifting her chin with impressive dignity, “and discovered that the laird of this castle was… occupying it.”
“Occupying it,” Duncan repeated.
“A most inconvenient discovery,” she added.
“Aye,” he said thoughtfully. “I imagine it must be terribly inconvenient tae discover a man swimming in a loch.”
Her eyes flicked toward him then, very briefly, and just as quickly away again. Duncan nearly laughed. Because she had seen the water sliding from his shoulders and the way it traced along the hard lines of muscle earned through years of training and battle.
And she was doing a truly remarkable job pretending she had not. The flush spreading across her cheeks betrayed her entirely.
“Ye’re free tae look, ye ken,” he said helpfully.
Her head snapped toward him. “I am nae looking.”
“Ye were a moment ago.”
“I most certainly was nae.”
“Ah.” Duncan nodded solemnly. “Then perhaps I imagined it.”
Elaina’s eyes widened. “I did nae stare.”
“Studied, then.”
“I did nay such thing!”
Duncan chuckled softly, a sound that was low and sounded thoroughly pleased.
The lass was properly flustered and for reasons he found very difficult not to enjoy.
He pushed slightly higher in the water, resting both arms along the stone now.
The movement sent another small cascade of water running down his chest.
“So, ye merely came tae the loch fer a walk, and instead, ye found me,” he reiterated.
They regarded one another for a moment.
“Aye,” she nodded.
Duncan tilted his head slightly. “And now?”
Elaina hesitated. Her composure had mostly returned, though the faint color remained on her cheeks. The breeze lifted a strand of her hair, carrying with it that familiar scent of rosemary that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
She folded her arms.
“Now,” she said, “I am waiting fer ye tae finish occupying the lake.”
She was standing on the bank with her arms folded and her chin lifted in stubborn patience, as though she truly intended to wait until he emerged from the loch like some obedient servant.
Duncan had no intention of being obedient.
“Ye ken,” he said after a moment, lazily stirring the water with one hand, “the loch is rather large. Plenty of space.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Fer what purpose are ye telling me this?”
Duncan’s grin appeared again, slow and dangerous.
“Well,” he said, “it occurred tae me that instead of standing there glaring at the water, ye might simply join me.”
Elaina stared at him. “I beg yer pardon?”
“Come swim.”
“With ye?”
“Aye.”
She blinked once, then twice, as though she were waiting for the absurdity of the suggestion to reveal itself.
When it did not, she said very calmly. “Nay.”
Duncan hummed thoughtfully.
“Nay?”
“Nay.”
“Nae even a little?”
“Nae even remotely.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Pity.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Duncan said casually, “I suspect the real trouble is that ye cannae swim.”
Elaina went perfectly still. The silence stretched. Duncan could practically see the moment his words struck home.
Her eyes narrowed slowly. “I can swim.”
He lifted a shoulder in an exaggerated shrug. “If ye say so.”
“I dae say so.”
“Aye,” he said easily. “And I can fly with the wee birds.” Duncan pushed lightly away from the stone, treading water now. His expression seemed far too innocent. “Then again,” he added thoughtfully, “if ye truly could swim, ye would likely have jumped in already just tae prove me wrong.”
Elaina’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Ye are attempting tae provoke me.”
“Am I?”
“Aye.”
“And is it working?”
Her eyes flashed in a way he liked more than he was willing to admit. “Nay.”
“Good,” Duncan said mildly. “Because I would hate tae think ye were that easily manipulated.”
She stared at him as though contemplating several forms of violence. Duncan found himself enjoying the sight far more than he ought.
“Ye are insufferable,” she informed him.
“Aye.”
“And arrogant.”
“Also true.”
“And very cold, I imagine,” she added pointedly, glancing at the water.
Duncan grinned again. “The water is fine.”
“Ye are lying.”
“Am I?”
“Aye.”
“Well,” he said, spreading his arms slightly across the surface of the loch, “there’s only one way tae find out.”
Elaina could not remember ever encountering a man so thoroughly insufferable.
It was not merely that Duncan Grant enjoyed provoking her, though he clearly did. It was the calm satisfaction with which he did so, as if he had already predicted precisely how she would respond, and what she would do next. Which, she realized with growing irritation, he very likely had.
“Ye truly are impossible,” she muttered under her breath.
Duncan, several yards away in the loch, appeared entirely unconcerned with this revelation. The water rippled lazily around him as he watched her from where he floated with infuriating ease. He looked entirely at home there, and also, entirely amused.
That, more than anything else, decided for her.
“Oh, fer heaven’s sake,” Elaina snapped softly.
Before she could reconsider or preserve even a shred of dignity she gathered her skirts, took three quick steps across the damp grass, and ran.
Then she jumped.
The splash echoed across the quiet loch, sending a wide circle of ripples spreading over the surface.
He had lied. The water was shockingly cold.
For one terrifying moment it stole the breath straight from her lungs, but instinct took over almost immediately.
Her arms cut through the water, her legs kicking strongly as she surfaced with a sharp gasp.
Behind her came the sound of Duncan’s laughter.
“Well done!” he called across the water. “I expected ye tae tiptoe in like a cautious cat, and instead ye launched yerself at the loch like a cannonball!”
Elaina pushed wet hair out of her face and glared in his direction.
“I did nay such thing.”
“Aye, ye did,” he said cheerfully. “If the fish survive the shock, it will be a miracle.” He waded a little closer, and the water was lapping at his waist. “Though, truth be told, it’s easier if ye go in all at once, it gives the cold less time tae bite.”
She began swimming toward him with firm, efficient strokes.
“I merely chose the quickest method of proving ye wrong.”
“An admirable strategy,” Duncan replied. “Though somewhat dramatic.”
“It was because I enjoy a good swim, and I dare ye tae prove me otherwise.”
“A dare, eh?” he chuckled.
“Aye.”
He watched her approach with open amusement, treading water lazily as she closed the distance between them. Despite the cold, Elaina moved easily through the loch. Her strokes were practiced, steady, and confident, despite the weight of her dress. Duncan raised an eyebrow.
“Well now,” he admitted, “I cannae dare ye, when I stand corrected.”
“Of course ye dae.”
“Ye can swim.”
“I told ye that.”
“Aye, but people say many things.”
She shot him a look that suggested she was reconsidering the wisdom of not drowning him.
“And now,” Duncan continued thoughtfully, “I must also admit that I didnae expect ye tae run and leap intae the water like a Highland warrior.”
Elaina snorted softly. “If I had tiptoed in, ye would have mocked that as well.”
“Possibly.”
“Definitely.”
Duncan grinned. She stopped a few feet away from him. For a moment neither spoke. The surface of the loch settled around them again, broken only by the gentle movement of their arms.
Elaina became suddenly aware that she was very close to him. Water clung to the dark strands of his hair, droplets running slowly down his temples and along the strong line of his jaw. His shoulders rose from the loch with effortless strength as he moved, the cold seeming to bother him not at all.
Her traitorous gaze flickered once across the broad span of his chest before she caught herself. Duncan noticed, and his grin returned instantly.
“Careful, lass,” he said softly. “Or else ye willnae be able tae convince me that ye arenae looking at me.”
Elaina splashed water directly at his face.
“Be quiet.”
Duncan laughed again, wiping the water from his eyes. The low rumble of his voice did little to improve her temper.
“Dinnae,” she said firmly, fighting the water with all the dignity she could muster, “dare tae think fer a moment that I am enjoying this.”
Duncan’s grin deepened in a way that suggested he absolutely did think precisely that.
“I merely did this,” she continued briskly, “tae prove a point.”
“A noble cause.”
“And now that ye ken the truth,” she added, fixing him with a look meant to discourage further commentary, “I expect ye never tae question me again.”
Duncan tilted his head slightly. “Never?”
“Never.”
“That seems a rather severe rule.”
“It is a necessary one when dealing with men who enjoy provoking people.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll consider it.”
“Ye will dae more than consider it.”
“Aye?”
“Ye will obey it.”
For a moment Duncan simply watched her, that infuriating amusement still dancing in his eyes. Then he inclined his head with exaggerated solemnity.
“As ye command.”
Elaina did not believe him for a single moment. But she had said her piece, and remaining there under his gaze suddenly felt far more dangerous than jumping into the loch had been.
So she turned. The water parted smoothly around her shoulders as she began to swim back toward the shore. And immediately she felt his gaze. She could not see him now, for her back was turned to him, but she could feel the weight of his attention as surely as if he had reached out and touched her.
It made the fine hairs along the back of her neck rise. Her heart, which had only just begun to settle, betrayed her completely by quickening again.
This is absurd.
And yet, the image of him lingered stubbornly in her mind, of that effortless strength in the way he moved through the loch as though it belonged to him, as though everything around him did.
Elaina exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself.
She had known handsome men before. She had lived among them her entire life, lairds and officers and visiting dignitaries, who had spent far too much time admiring themselves in polished mirrors.
None of them had unsettled her. None of them had made her feel this strange pull low in her chest. And yet the infuriating, arrogant, impossible Duncan Grant had somehow managed it without even trying, which made it all the more irritating.
Her arms moved steadily through the water as she swam, but her awareness of him did not fade. If anything, it sharpened. She knew he was still there, still watching. The knowledge sent another unwelcome warmth spreading through her despite the cold water surrounding her.
She would not allow herself to be distracted by a man simply because he looked, rather unfairly, impressive emerging from a loch at sunrise. That was hardly a reason to lose one’s composure. Still, her heart refused to slow.
And though she did not turn to look, a small, traitorous part of her wondered whether he was smiling.