Chapter 12
Officially, the loch had no name. That felt right to Ryder. It had always seemed a little pompous for humans to come along, set up their little houses and castles beside majestic forests, mountains, and lochs, and then name them after themselves.
The loch had been there for centuries before Ryder’s people had crawled over the Highlands, and it would be there for centuries after. He had no intention of giving it his name.
The moonlight shone down upon him as Ryder stripped off quickly, shivering in the crisp night air. He left his clothes in a neat pile, then stepped into the cool, silky water.
It took him a moment or two to adjust to the temperature. The loch water was icy. No amount of scrubbing oneself in a warm, soapy bath ever seemed to get Ryder as clean as swimming through the loch, with its rocky outcropping and gravelly banks.
He sank down, letting the water close up over his head like an embrace.
He came up for a gasp and broke into a sharp backstroke.
His strokes hit the water, echoing, and he dragged himself in a lazy circle, swimming out into the loch until he was well out of his depth, then turning and lying on his back, staring up at the moon.
Why did she look at me the way that she did? Why did she refuse to try on the gown in front of me?
And if she hates me so intensely, why did she kiss me back? There was nay falseness in that kiss; I should ken that. I tasted it meself.
He closed his eyes, grateful for the cold water on his body, tamping down his arousal.
Desire was a troublesome thing; he’d long since figured that out.
He needed a sharp, clear mind, and one couldn’t think straight without the fuzziness of wanting.
Wanting anything was a mistake; he’d long since known that.
To let the gods know that you wanted something was to tempt fate, to all but suggest to them that they might deny it to you.
So, he did not want Megan Blackwood. He was sure of that. Her sisters and their husbands would have something to say about that. Not, of course, that any of the Blackwood girls needed men to get what they wanted. He hadn’t met any of them, but they all had reputations.
If they’re anythin’ like Megan, I’d be done for, he thought, amused.
There was a rattle of stone on stone, echoing from the loch’s shore. At once, all pleasant haziness left Ryder’s body. He jerked himself upright, treading water, and scanned the shore.
He was relatively safe out in the water. Nobody could reach him without a boat; he could swim out into the middle of the loch, out of reach of any arrows.
The question was, for how long? A man couldn’t tread water forever. If he were under attack, his enemies would only need to wait until he tired. And if he tried to come ashore, well, he was naked and unarmed.
A boot scraped against rock, and a shadow moved in the dark.
“Who’s there?” Ryder called, trying to sound angry and unafraid.
What if it’s her? Whispered a tiny voice in the back of his mind.
Ryder felt red creep over his cheeks. He imagined her stepping out of the shadows. He imagined himself, bold as brass, walking out of the water to meet her, letting her eyes run over his body.
He imagined her stripping down to join him in swimming, all beautiful, soft white skin, begging to be touched, every inch mapped out…
Ewan stepped out of the darkness and waved his arm.
“Only me!” he called cheerfully.
The heat in Ryder’s body dissipated like fog in front of the noon sun.
“Oh,” he said flatly.
Ewan chuckled. “Daenae sound so disappointed. Who did ye think it was?”
“I thought I was under attack,” Ryder said.
It wasnae entirely a lie. He swam toward shore, and Ewan clambered out onto a rock outcropping.
The rock jutted out into the loch so that Ryder could swim in deep water, but Ewan did not have to get wet.
He wasn’t fond of swimming, but he was fond of keeping his friend company.
“Did ye talk to the locals about the attack? Did they ken anythin’?”
Ewan lowered himself into a cross-legged position, leaning back with a sigh.
“Aye, me Laird, I did. And nay, nay leads. I had sketches taken of the dead men who attacked us on the road, but nobody recognized them. I’m sorry to bring ye nay good news.”
“It’s all right, Ewan, there’s nothin’ ye could have done about it.”
They sat in silence for a moment, with Ryder swimming round and round in circles and Ewan staring up at the moon. Ryder ducked under the water, swimming for a few strokes before coming up for air.
“Today came too close for comfort,” Ryder admitted. “I got sloppy.”
“Ye have never been sloppy.”
“Then explain why I took me sisters out of the Keep without a full armed guard. Aye, ye were there, but ye and a coachman were not enough.”
“I ken why ye did that,” Ewan countered. “A full armed guard would attract attention, whereas a single carriage and rider trottin’ through the forest wouldnae.”
“Fair,” Ryder conceded. “And if we had nae been attacked, I would have agreed. But the fact is that we were attacked. I should have been more careful. I just… I thought we’d have more leads by now.”
Ewan nodded. “I understand yer frustration.”
Ryder wasn’t sure if he truly did. Ewan loved Alaina, of course he did, but she wasn’t his sister. If anything terrible happened to her, Ewan’s conscience would clear him as having done everything necessary.
But Ryder’s conscience never would. There was no way of getting around it. He had to keep his sister safe. There was no other way.
“One thing I daenae understand,” Ryder commented, squirting a jet of water between his teeth, “is why anybody would want to take Alaina. It’s her they are comin’ for, nae Sophie, so it cannae be a plain ransom. It cannae be to marry her off. There are more eligible brides than Alaina, surely.”
Even as he spoke, however, Ryder felt a tendril of worry.
It wasn’t unheard of for men to kidnap girls with fortunes, forcing them into marriage.
Once the marriage was consummated—willing or not—it was legally binding.
There would be no annulment. Then the husband would be entitled to the woman’s fortune—all of it.
Of course, if this happened with Alaina, Ryder would not worry about legal battles or morality.
He would simply kill the men responsible, and Alaina would go from unwilling wife to relieved widow.
But that wouldn’t undo the suffering she had endured in the first place, nor would it undo any consequences that followed.
Best to just keep her safe.
Ewan gave a huff of laughter. “More eligible brides, ye say? Like Megan?”
Ryder sank beneath the water again and surfaced with a growl.
“Careful, Ewan.”
“Careful, how? What are ye goin’ to do? Splash me?” Ewan chuckled, shaking his head. “Me wife is heavy with child. I’ve kent fear that ye could never imagine, friend. Besides, ye are never very intimidatin’ when ye are naked and wet.”
“Well, that is incredibly rude,” Ryder retorted, swimming close. “Daenae talk about me bride-to-be, Ewan. I mean it.”
Ewan wiped his face with his sleeve. “Look, man, I only think that ye are bein’ a wee bit careless. I ken who she is.”
“What a clever lad ye are.”
“Pack it in. I am sayin’ that she is nae some forest lass with nay power behind her. Ye must be careful how ye deal with Megan.”
“What a clever man ye are, Ewan. Such sage and wise advice. I would have never thought of this meself.”
“Enough with yer witticisms. This is serious. She is connected to three—three!—large and powerful clans.”
“Aye, and for the next three months, she belongs to me.”
Ewan got up, crawled to the edge of the outcropping, and leaned down to catch Ryder’s eye.
“But she’s nae actually yers, is she?” he said pointedly. “Those three clans…”
“Ach, we can take them.”
“We daenae have to! Ryder, be serious. Please! This is a dangerous thing ye are doin’.”
“Only if it backfires.”
Ryder clenched his jaw and set off toward the shore in a sharp front crawl, dragging himself through the water. He heard Ewan tut in annoyance and get to his feet, pacing alongside Ryder as he swam.
“Unless, of course, ye truly do want to marry her,” Ewan commented lightly.
Ryder wished he could pretend that he hadn’t heard.
“Ye ken as well as I do that I daenae,” he snapped decisively. “I am nae the marryin’ kind.”
“Nor was I until I met Flora.”
Ryder rolled onto his back, letting his momentum carry him toward the shore. He watched the moon high above, with scudding clouds sliding across it.
“It’s nae just that I daenae want to,” he murmured.
“It’s that I cannae. Marriage is a threat to any woman out there.
And marriage to me is worse than most. The plain fact is that I like Megan.
She might be a hellion, but by God, she’s thrillin’.
Besides, she’s helpful. Alaina and Sophie love her already.
I would nae wish the fate of marriage—marriage to me, no less! —upon her.”
Ewan said nothing for a long moment.
Ryder reached the shore and climbed slowly out. Water streamed off him, and he shivered in the cold, rolling his shoulders.
In a moment, Ewan was in front of him, holding the drying sheet in one hand, with Ryder’s clothes tucked under the other.
“When should we hold the cèilidh?” he asked softly.
Ryder took the sheet, scrubbing the worst of the wet out of his hair.
“At the end of the week,” he said finally. “That’ll give us four full days to arrange it.”
Ewan nodded. Together, they made their way back toward the Keep, its blocky shadow rising against the moonlit sky. Ryder stopped at the edge of the loch’s banks to dry himself properly. He dressed quickly, his clothes sticking to his damp skin.
I am a laird, he reminded himself. I am Laird MacCulloch, and a great many responsibilities weigh on me shoulders.
I have nay time for romance or even friendship.
I certainly have nay time for desire.
Thus fortified, he gave Ewan a brisk nod, and they set off at a sharp walk toward the Keep.
There was work to do.