Page 52

S omehow, they found their way to the top of the castle, some unspoken agreement between them urging them up the narrow staircase winding around the turret to the pitched roof beyond.

Cat’s hand slipped from his, her feet silent against the worn stones as she drifted toward the perimeter wall and stood staring out at the still waters of Loch Dunvegan.

The sky had grown darker, the bright pink and orange streaks that had lit it up like a brilliant watercolor now a deep, moody violet.

Hamish didn’t speak. He didn’t follow her, or attempt to take her hand again, but stood silently, watching as the velvety darkness pressed closer, wrapping her in its familiar embrace.

She was so still, so quiet, her edges fading in the waning light until he could only just discern her silhouette, a motionless shadow against the darkening sky.

If it hadn’t been for the lock of her hair floating in the breeze, he might have believed she’d become a part of the night itself.

How many times had she stood thus, gazing at the dark water, the only sound the rhythmic wash of the restless waves against the rocks below? Dozens of times? Hundreds?

But this wasn’t like all those other times. This time, she wasn’t alone.

She had him. She would always have him now.

“I’ll never forget the first time I came up here.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You were wearing only your night rail with your cloak thrown over the top of it, and your feet were bare.”

“I remember.” She turned, the moonlight falling across one side of her face and revealing the sheepish smile on her lips. “You must have thought me mad, wandering about this old drafty castle in my bare feet.”

“No.” He closed the distance between them, his arms slipping around her waist, his eyes closing as she melted against him, the tense line of her back relaxing as he settled her against his chest. “I was too enamored of your toes to think of anything else.”

“My toes ?” She turned in his arms. “Why on earth would you be enamored of my toes?”

“Are you not aware, Miss MacLeod, that you have the sweetest, pinkest toes of any lass in the Scottish Highlands? They quite took my breath away. I’m afraid they chased every other thought from my head.

I was captivated by you even then, which is rather pathetic, really, given I still believed you’d poisoned me. ”

She laughed, her warm breath caressing him through the layers of his shirt and waistcoat. “I don’t remember much about that night, aside from our skirmish with the smugglers, but I do remember trying to hide my toes underneath the hem of my night rail so you wouldn’t see them.”

“Why should you wish to hide such delicious toes?”

She gazed up at him, a twinkle in her green eyes. “You’d have me reveal my naked toes to the dashing Marquess of Ballantyne? Why, what could be more scandalous?”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, the loose wisps of her hair tickling his lips. Surely there wasn’t a lady in all of Scotland who had softer hair than hers. “You told me all about gout.”

“Gout?” She let out a groan. “Oh, no.”

“Yes, indeed. Do you not remember? Gout and Wood Betony, and Lemon Balm, and all manner of other things. If I recall correctly, you went on at some length about venomous spider bites, as well.” He grinned down at her. “It was quite the treatise on potions and cures.”

Her cheeks colored, and she hid her face in his chest. “Goodness, what you must have thought of me!”

He touched his fingers to her chin, raising her face to his.

“What I thought, Miss MacLeod, was that I’d never encountered a lady as clever as you.

The passion with which you spoke, the flush in your cheeks, and the light in your eyes was .

. . well, I was utterly mesmerized by you nearly from the moment I laid eyes on you. ”

The green eyes he loved so well had grown brighter as he spoke. “Y-you were?”

“I was, I am, and I always shall be. You won’t ever be alone again, Cat. I’ll never leave you. I won’t leave you.” Of all the things he most wanted her to understand, it was this that was the most important. “I’m yours, forever.”

“And I’m yours,” she whispered, her hands coming up to cradle his face. “I only hope you won’t live to regret it. Alas, fate has decreed that misfortune will follow the MacLeods.”

Her face clouded, and he knew she was thinking of her sisters.

“We’ll find Freya and Sorcha, Cat. I promise it.” They would, because they had to. Anything else would break Cat’s heart, and he wouldn’t allow that. She’d turned her lovely, open heart over to him, and he’d take care of it, no matter what.

She sighed. “I know we will, it’s just . . . where shall we even begin, Hamish? There’s no note. We haven’t a clue where they’ve gone, and the house looks much as it did when we left weeks ago. It’s as if they walked out the door, and vanished.”

“Something happened, that much is certain. Tomorrow we’ll go and see the Duffys and find out if there was any disagreement between your sisters and the villagers.

Wherever they’ve gone, you can be certain Keir and Callum are with them.

” His friends had promised to protect Freya and Sorcha, and they’d keep their word.

“I wish we could go tonight. Right now.”

“Tomorrow is soon enough. We’ll only upset the Duffys if we appear on their doorstep at this late hour. You need to sleep now, love.” She didn’t seem to notice it, but he could see how exhausted she was by the slump of her shoulders and her pale face.

“I know. Just a few more minutes, all right?” She rose to her tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his lips, then turned to face the water again.

The wind had picked up as the sky had grown dark above them, and he pulled her more tightly against the warmth of his body, wrapping his arms around her when she shivered.

They remained there for some time, neither of them speaking.

Was it strange that he should feel such peace in this moment? Their return to Castle Cairncross wasn’t the joyful homecoming either of them had anticipated. They were hovering on the edge of another wild escapade, and tomorrow would come sooner than they were ready for it.

But as they stood there together, with the chill wind sneaking under their cloaks, he felt nothing but happiness, and hope.

Somehow, between the smugglers and the luggers, the monkshood poisoning and the gold coins, the phosphorescent paint and the haunting of Castle Cairncross, they’d found each other. She was here, with him, safe and warm in his arms, and she was everything he’d ever wanted.

He had her, and nothing in the world mattered more to him than that.

She stirred then, turning in his arms, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “Take me to bed, my lord.”

“With pleasure, my lady.” He brushed the loose waves of her hair back from her face, his heart swelling with joy at the softness in her eyes. “With pleasure.”