Chapter 13 #2
She had imagined this. The thought had lived somewhere beneath everything else. Beneath the tension and arguments and the stolen moments in darkened corridors.
Now that it was real, imagination felt like a pale and insufficient thing.
Locke’s fingers traced along her jaw, her collarbone, and the curve of her shoulder as though he was learning her by touch alone and intended to remember every detail. She shivered despite the warmth from the fire in the hearth.
“Are ye cold?” he murmured against her cheek.
“Nay,” she replied, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. “Quite the opposite.”
A groan escaped him and it sounded like amusement and want at the same time. Then, he was guiding her gently backward with his arm braced so that his weight never pressed too heavily against her. He was careful with her. Every touch was a question she answered immediately.
“Ye’re sure?” he asked quietly.
The firelight caught the blue of his eyes, and in them she saw an entirely new emotion. It wasn’t the guardedness she had grown accustomed to.
“Aye,” she said. “Are ye?”
That evoked a surprised laugh from him. “I’ve been sure for longer than I care tae admit.”
She smiled at that, and the last of her nervousness dissolved.
His mouth was at her temple, her cheek, the soft curve of her throat.
Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and he helped her with it, then settled his hands at her waist again.
Every breath was shared. Every moment precious.
The linen of her sleeping gown was thin, and the fact should have embarrassed her, but didn’t. Not with Locke, and certainly not when he looked at her the way he did.
“Ye’re beautiful,” he said quietly.
Merith had been told she was beautiful before by men who wanted something from her, and men who measured her worth by her face and her family name. This was different.
This felt true in a way those other words never had.
“So are ye,” she replied.
He blinked, and then released a genuine laugh. The sound filled the chamber like something she hadn’t known she needed to hear.
“That isnae something men are usually told,” he said.
“Ye havenae met the right people, then.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then kissed her again. This time, there was nothing careful about it.
She whispered his name once and he stilled, searching her face in the firelight. Whatever he found there seemed to settle him.
Inside the room, time had stopped entirely.
Murdoch, the fire, the ruined estate, and everything else receded completely.
There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of the linen, and Locke.
His voice was low against her ear, and his hands were sure and gentle.
The way he spoke her name as though it meant something specific and important sent a shudder down her spine.
She had not known it could be like this. That a person could feel both entirely known and entirely undone at the same time.
Because somewhere deep inside, both of them understood the truth. Time was running out.
It didn’t take long for all their clothes to end up on the floor. Merith ran her hands down Locke’s chest and stopped when they reached his stomach. His breath hitched and his eyes darkened as he looked at her.
Merith lifted her hand to his face, tracing the line of his jaw as though committing it to memory. Locke closed his eyes briefly at the touch, leaning into her palm.
When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze stole her breath.
Slowly, he positioned himself at her entrance and rested his forehead against hers. It was incredible that a man as rugged as Locke could still be so gentle with her.
The space between them vanished when he thrust his hips forward, allowing a groan to escape past his lips.
Merith couldn’t help gripping his shoulders harder. In that moment, she thought about how wrong every single part of this moment was… and how she didn’t care at all.
She only wanted Locke. Nothing else mattered.
Every touch felt precious and her heartbeat was impossibly loud in the stillness.
“Merith,” he murmured against her mouth. Hearing her name on his lips nearly broke her.
She released his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him as he held her like letting go was unthinkable.
Locke moved his hips again, burying his entire length inside her. Merith dropped her head back and moaned.
In that moment, she knew she had no control over her own body. However, she didn’t mind at all.
“Nay, ye look at me,” Locke gasped, tapping her chin once.
When they locked eyes again, Merith felt like she didn’t want to look away.
Afterward, the fire had burned lower. Neither of them moved for a long while. Neither spoke much.
Merith lay tucked against his side with her head resting on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. His arm held her close as though he had nowhere else to be and no intention of pretending otherwise.
“Locke,” she said at last. When he hummed, she considered her words carefully. “Whatever happens next—”
“Nay,” he said softly. “Not tonight.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. His jaw was set but his eyes were gentle.
“I only meant tae say,” she continued quietly, “that I dinnae regret this.”
At that, he moved his hand slowly through her hair. “Neither dae I… not even a little.”
“Good,” she replied with a grin. “Then we agree on something.”
“We’ve agreed on more than ye think,” he murmured.
She smiled in the darkness. “Dinnae push it.”
His laugh rumbled beneath her cheek.
Words felt unnecessary. The connection between them said more than conversation ever could.
And Merith allowed herself to believe that perhaps another future existed. One that did not belong to Murdoch Carnegie. One that belonged to her.
Before dawn touched the horizon, Locke slipped quietly from her chamber.
The keep remained silent. Most of its inhabitants still slept. Moving through shadows had always come naturally to him. Tonight it felt easier than breathing.
The mission was complete. Yet for the first time in years, success felt secondary because the most important thing he’d found inside Carnegie Keep wasn’t hidden inside a ledger.
It was sleeping upstairs.
Merith woke slowly. For one brief moment, she forgot everything. Then memory returned, and with it came certainty.
She would not marry Murdoch. The realization no longer frightened her. It strengthened her. After dressing, she slipped into the corridor and found Locke almost immediately. He stood near a window overlooking the courtyard.
When he saw her, relief flashed openly across his face. Merith smiled. It was the kind reserved only for him.
“Good mornin’,” she greeted him.
“Verra good.”
His eyes danced.
Before either could think better of it, he stole a kiss from her lips. It was brief and entirely reckless. Neither noticed the approaching footsteps until a voice cut cleanly through the corridor.
“Touching.”
The single word froze them both. Merith turned to see Murdoch Carnegie standing at the far end of the hall.
His dark eyes rested upon them, and suddenly the morning felt much colder.