Chapter 27
The sunlight danced across the loch in bright shards, and for a moment Baird simply watched these small, fleeting sparks that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
It felt fitting. His life had been made of moments like that.
Brief. Bright. Gone.
“This place…” he heard himself speak before he was even aware of it, “it meant a great deal tae me maither.”
Davina turned slightly toward him, but she didn’t interrupt. She simply waited, patient as the warm breeze threading through the grass.
Baird kept his eyes on the water.
“She once told me, shortly before she died, even though I couldn’t fully understand then, that she used tae ride here when me faither’s temper grew too much fer her,” he murmured.
“She said this loch felt like the one place where she could breathe without asking fer permission.” A faint, sad smile ghosted across his mouth.
“She said that freedom was something everyone deserved… but nae everyone had.”
His throat tightened. He hadn’t told anyone that before, except for Malcom.
Davina let the silence sit between them for a breath. Then another. Then she said softly. “I understand.”
He turned to her fully, searching her face. “Really?”
Davina nodded. “Aye. I grew up in a house full of love, but still there were expectations and duties. What I wore, how I spoke, who I would marry…”
Baird’s chest tightened.
She looked toward the loch. “Freedom, fer me, was always the idea that I might choose something fer meself one day. Anything. A single thing that was mine and nay one else’s tae command.”
Baird felt the truth of her words strike him deep, like the two of them were standing on opposite ends of the same wound.
He spoke without meaning to. “And did ye? Did ye ever choose something just fer yerself?”
Davina met his gaze, steady and open in the golden light. “I chose tae come with ye today.”
A piece of the armor he’d worn since childhood flaked away. He reached for her hand slowly, giving her time to refuse. She didn’t. Her fingers curled gently around his.
Baird swallowed. “I cannae promise I’ll always ken how tae be…”
Davina stepped closer. “Then we’ll learn taegether.”
A soft breeze lifted her hair. Her face was inches from his. He felt her warmth, her certainty, her steady strength. He lifted her hand and pressed it against his chest, right over the scar he never spoke about.
“I promise ye this, Davina,” he said quietly. “I’ll give ye whatever freedom I can. Even if I falter, even if I fail, I’ll still try.”
She placed her other hand gently over his.
“And I’ll give ye the same,” she said. “A place where ye never need tae pretend, a place where ye can breathe.”
Their foreheads nearly touched, with the loch glimmering behind them.
But a sudden splash rippled across the peaceful surface of the loch, breaking the hush between them.
Baird’s head jerked toward the sound just in time to see a silver-backed trout leap clean out of the water, flashing once in the sun before vanishing again beneath the surface.
Davina was startled, but then laughed. The moment grounded them both, pulling them gently back from the edge of something unbearably raw. Baird found himself staring at her, unable to look away from the brightness in her eyes, a brightness he had nearly forgotten existed.
There was mischief there, clear as day.
“What are ye thinking about?” he asked, with suspicion and curiosity mingling.
She tilted her head. “Freedom.”
He raised a brow. “Aye?”
“And choosing things fer meself,” she smirked.
Before he could make sense of that, she stepped back, bent gracefully and slipped off her shoes.
Baird blinked. “What are ye daeing?”
“Choosing,” she said simply.
She set the shoes neatly on the grass. Then she untied the ribbon at her sleeves and shrugged off her outer gown, leaving her in her lighter shift beneath. She folded the gown carefully and placed it beside the shoes.
Baird’s jaw might have slackened several inches. “Davina…”
But she only smiled, and that mischievous spark in her eyes only grew brighter.
“Every time I answer,” she said lightly, “I make a choice.”
“And what choice is this?” he asked curiously, drawn to her more than ever before.
She stepped toward the water’s edge, with the hem of her shift brushing her calves. “The choice tae feel the sun, tae feel the water, tae dae something simply because it pleases me.”
His breath caught. “Davina…”
She made another choice: she unpinned her hair, letting it spill down her back in a golden tumble that glowed in the daylight.
Baird swore under his breath, but only because his heart was thundering. “Lass… ye cannae just…”
But she could. She had said so herself.
And then she laughed and ran straight into the loch, with water splashing around her legs before she dove deeper and her shift billowing like pale silk beneath the surface.
Baird stood rooted to the spot, stunned and with a helpless smile tugging at his mouth despite every instinct screaming that it was improper and reckless and wild…
… and free.
She surfaced with a gasp and a radiant grin. “Come in if ye dare, me laird!”
Baird stared at her, laughing and alive, as sunlight turned droplets on her skin into diamonds. For the first time in years, he felt the weight of duty slip, just a little. That made him huff a breath which was half-laugh and half-surrender.
“What in God’s name have I married?” he muttered.
Davina only splashed water toward him in answer, daring him with her eyes.
For a moment he stood frozen at the water’s edge, watching her laugh as the loch embraced her like an old friend. She looked so alive, so unbound, that something inside him simply let go.
“Ah, saints help me,” he muttered, and began stripping off his coat, then his boots, then every heavy layer that marked him as laird.
Davina’s smile widened as he waded in, the cold water rushing up his calves and his thighs, stealing the breath from his lungs. She splashed him before he’d even found his footing.
“Is that how it’s going tae be?” he asked, with his teeth clenched against the shock of the loch.
“Aye!” she laughed, splashing again.
He lunged toward her, sending a wave in her direction. She shrieked in delight, and darted back quick as a trout, and light as sunlight on water. He chased her deeper, with the coolness wrapping around him, waking every sense he owned.
She dodged his reach once, even twice, until he finally caught her by the waist. She let out a startled gasp. His hands steadied her as the water rocked them gently. Her laughter faded into a breathy sigh.
And suddenly, they were very, very close.
Her hair clung damp to her neck. Droplets slid down her cheek. Her lips were parted slightly, still curved from laughter, but now there was something glowing beneath it.
“Davina…” He called out her name in a voice that was roughened by the cold water and something far deeper.
She looked up at him, eyes dark and bright all at once. “Aye, Baird?”
He didn’t remember leaning in. He only remembered the moment their breaths mingled, then the soft warmth of hers against the chill of his skin. His hand rose almost without his permission, brushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
Her eyes fluttered shut. That was all the invitation he needed.
He kissed her slowly at first, like he feared she might vanish if he moved too quickly.
Her lips were warm despite the loch, soft and yielding, tasting faintly of sunlight and stolen freedom.
She softened against him, her hands rising to grip his shoulders with a quiet urgency that stole his breath.
The kiss deepened gently, like an unspoken promise unfolding between them. She pressed closer, her body buoyed by the water, her mouth moving with his as though learning him, exploring him. He felt her sigh against his lips, and the sound sent a shiver down his spine.
His thumb brushed her cheek, while her fingers curled into his wet shirt. Everything around them, the hills, the water, the sky, seemed to hold still in reverence. For a man who had never let himself want anything freely, this kiss felt like claiming breath after drowning.
He moved away from her, only to hear her whisper. “So, this is freedom as well?”
Baird smiled against her lips. “Aye… this is ours.”