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R ipples danced across the surface of the loch. At the far end of the water, Murdo caught a flash as something moved—a fish, perhaps, swimming free, unburdened by honor or duty.

“I’m free of you at last, Da!”

The wind caught his voice and tossed it aside, as if it knew the futility of his words. The curse Da uttered on his deathbed would fester in his soul.

The curse he’d placed on Clara.

And now she’d disappeared.

Murdo had waited for her to return to the castle, but she hadn’t. After James arrived with Duncan, Buck trotting at their heels, Murdo went in search of Clara, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps his da had won after all.

A piercing cry came from overhead. The snowcapped peak of Beinn Urraim glistened in the sunlight, and above, two shapes circled in the air.

The eagle and his mate.

When had they known they were destined for each other? Was it at first sight, or had their love grown over the seasons until they could no longer be parted?

Murdo sighed. When had he known, inside his soul, that Clara was his mate?

He lowered his head in shame.

“I’ve been a fool,” he said. “A weak fool.”

“I’ll not disagree, brother,” a voice said.

James stood before him, silhouetted against the sky.

“I thought I’d find ye here—hiding in the wilds rather than doing yer duty.”

“The clan’s yer duty now,” Murdo said.

James picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. “See the ripples from the stone?” he said. “They travel to the farthest edge of the loch, then back until the whole surface is covered, shifting the water to their whim. Even after the stone is long gone, it strives to rule the water.”

He sat beside Murdo.

“We can’t let the stone rule us after it’s gone. We should make our own ripples—live our lives as we wish, not as that bitter old man might have demanded.”

“Ye speak nonsense,” Murdo said.

James’s clear green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and, for the first time, there was not a glimmer of discomfort or fear in their expression.

“Do ye know how I knew ye’d be here, Murdo? It’s because this was where we used to come as children, somewhere our da never came. A place where we could be free.”

“Ye are free,” Murdo said.

“And so are ye, but ye’re too much of a fool to realize it. So ye hide here rather than tend to yer wife.”

Murdo’s heart lifted with hope. “Have ye found her?”

James shook his head. “No, but she’s a clever lass. She’ll come to no harm, at least, not to her body. As to her heart…”

Murdo’s conscience pierced his soul.

“James, do you know what Da said to her when he died—what he said to me?”

“Aye, Joan told me. Are ye foolish enough to let herself be ruled by the final words of a bitter old man determined to hate that lovely lass?”

“I thought ye hated her, brother.”

“I never hated her, Murdo,” James said. “I feared her.”

“What could you have to fear from her?”

“Her honesty. She sees beyond that which we want the world to see. And when she saw me, she knew me.”

“How so? Ye’d never met her before I brought her here.”

“She saw my soul,” James said. “What more is there to fear?” He took Murdo’s hand.

“Are ye really going to deny yerself the love of that fine woman merely because of what our da said? Ye should look at what she’s done.

She’s worked hard here, weathered my insults, yet cared enough about me to defy our father.

And she looked into my heart and didn’t condemn what she saw.

She weathered Da’s fury and the condemnation of the entire clan to further my happiness. She was even…”

His voice wavered, and he wiped his eyes.

“She was even willing to let ye believe she’d broken faith with ye to protect me from yer condemnation.”

“I’d never condemn ye, James.”

“Wouldn’t ye?” James blinked, and the moisture in his eyes glimmered in the sunlight. “Only Clara understood whom I truly love—and why I could never have married the McCallum lass.”

Murdo stared at him.

“Ye know, don’t ye, brother?” James said. “Inside yer heart, ye know whom I love, whom I’ve always loved. If Clara had the courage to defy our da to protect that love, then I should have the courage to admit it to ye now.”

Murdo recalled the moments he’d pushed to the back of his mind—the tender touches, the lingering glances, and the crushing fear in James’s eyes when Murdo came upon them in Duncan’s cottage, moments before Clara placed herself between them to protect James from his anger.

“Aye, brother,” he whispered, reaching for James’s hand. “I know whom ye love.”

James looked out across the loch, the breeze lifting the ends of his hair, which shone golden in the sunlight. The ripples at the far end seemed to be moving closer. Perhaps the fish were dancing in the water.

He sighed. “He’s the granite beneath my feet, the air in my lungs, and the strength in my bones. Without him, I am nothing.”

Murdo’s heart tightened at the sorrow in his brother’s voice. “I only wanted ye to marry Shona McCallum because I believed she might make ye happy.”

“I ken that,” James replied. “But yer wife knew otherwise. She wasn’t afraid to act. Of all the souls here, hers is the most open—the most honest. Yet she was willing to act false to protect me. Oh, brother, imagine what it’s like to have such a lass willing to sacrifice herself for yer happiness?”

“ Yer happiness, brother, not mine,” Murdo said.

“Och, ye’re a fool if ye think she doesn’t care about ye!

Perhaps she’s unwilling to risk her heart for a man beholden to his da.

But we’re free of him now. I’m free to love the one who owns my heart.

And so are ye.” James grinned. “Besides, ye need to furnish the clan with heirs, fill Strathburn Castle with children—lads and lasses with their da’s iron will and their ma’s fiery temperament. ”

“Ye want me to reconcile with my wife to give ye heirs?”

James slapped him playfully on his shoulder. “Fool! I want ye to reconcile with yer wife because she’s yer soul mate, as much as the eagle’s mate in the sky above, or the fish’s mate in the water below.”

“Aye,” Murdo said, as the ripples in the water moved closer. “She’s my soul mate. I knew it when I first saw her in that ballroom all those months ago—my wild, headstrong lass who outshone the other women as the sun outshines the moon.”

“Then tell her,” James said. “ Show her.”

“If she comes back to me,” Murdo said, rising to his feet.

“She will,” James said, standing beside him. “Let her come of her own free will and she’ll be yers forever.”

Murdo nodded. “Ye’ll be a fine laird.”

“Aye—with Duncan at my side, and my brother at my back.”

James glanced toward the water again, and his smile broadened.

“What is it?” Murdo asked.

“I believe yer wife is coming to ye of her own free will.”

Murdo glanced at the loch. The ripples were moving closer. Then a pale arm lifted out of the water. A head came into view, then bobbed under the surface.

The swimmer drew near, then rose from the water, like a sea god.

No—not a god.

A goddess .

Murdo’s mouth watered at her naked form—soft skin flushed from the exertion, droplets of water cascading over her curves, following the line of her breasts…

…and two pink nipples jutting proudly toward him.

“Sweet swiving heaven—ye’re a fortunate man indeed,” James said.

“I thought you didn’t like women,” Murdo said, tempering the possessiveness in his soul, which mirrored the lust surging in his cock.

“Any man can appreciate a beautiful female form,” his brother said. “Ye’ll have no concerns about bairns, not with those ripe, round—”

“That’s enough!” Murdo fisted his hands, his groin aching with need.

“Ha! Ye’ve got it bad, brother.”

“And ye’re no man if ye can’t respect my wife’s modesty.”

But Murdo saw no shame in Clara’s eyes—only pride.

She approached them, her gaze bold and direct, making no attempt to conceal her nudity, and his heart ached to see the scar on her arm—the brand in the shape of a D .

“Clara,” he whispered.

She turned her gaze on him, and though he waited for her expression to soften, she remained goddess-like—aloof, unattainable…

…and lost to him.