Page 86 of The Laird's Masked Desire
“And routes through Campbell land.”
This was where Kerr’s lips thinned slightly. “That is more delicate.”
Kenneth’s gaze sharpened. “Ye have already betrayed the Crown’s confidence by meeting me here.”
Kerr held his stare. “I serve opportunity.”
“Then serve it well.”
The two men stood in silence for several moments. Kenneth’s mind had already moved ahead. He could see the plan forming clearly. It would not be a battle, nor another feud fought across open fields. He needed something cleaner and faster. Campbell would expect confrontation. He would not expect theft.
“I have waited years,” he said quietly, “for Campbell tae feel the loss I felt. I got part of me revenge seven years ago. Now comes part two.”
The saddle creaked as he turned the horse toward the road. Somewhere beyond the hills Margaret Drummond slept beneath Campbell’s roof. Kenneth’s smile returned slowly. Now that he knew the marriage remained unfinished, he also knew that she was not truly Campbell’s.
And Kenneth MacGregor had never been a patient man when something belonged to him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The loch lay quiet beneath the pale morning sky. Mist drifted low across the water, curling along the dark surface like breath in the cold. The hills surrounding Inveraray were still wrapped in early light, their shadows long and blue across the shore.
Domhnall had just seen off his friends earlier that morning, and now, he was standing at the edge of the rocks, with his bare feet planted against damp stone. He took in the time to simply stare at the water.
The castle rose behind him, its towers pale against the sky, but where he stood the world felt older and simpler. The loch had been there long before Campbell banners ever flew above those lands. It had also always been the place he went when his thoughts grew too loud.
He stepped forward and dove right in. The water closed over him instantly, wrapping him in a cold, clean, and merciless embrace. It stole the breath from his lungs and drove every wanderingthought from his mind. Domhnall surfaced several strokes out, pushing his wet hair back as he drew in a steady breath.
The cold was welcome. He swam farther from shore, cutting through the quiet water with strong, practiced movements. The rhythm of it settled into his muscles quickly.
Yet even the water could not silence his thoughts. The kiss had not been planned. It had simply happened. Years of control had vanished in a single moment when he had looked up and saw her watching him.
He had intended to keep his promise. He still did. But the memory of her fingers tangled in his hair made the cold water suddenly feel far less effective.
Domhnall inhaled sharply and dove again. The loch swallowed him whole. The cold struck like a blade across his skin, forcing the air from his lungs as he drove downward, deeper than before, letting the weight of the water press against him.
He swam hard beneath the surface, as though he might outrun the memory. When he finally surfaced, he drew in a steady breath and stopped.
Margaret was standing at the edge of the shore.
She had appeared so quietly that for a moment, Domhnall wondered if the loch itself had conjured her. She stood upon the rocks where he had entered the water earlier, with herskirts stirring faintly in the breeze and the sunlight catching the chestnut hair that had escaped her braid.
And she was watching him with a small, unmistakable smirk.
Domhnall blinked water from his eyes.
“Well, well.”
Margaret tilted her head slightly. “Well, well indeed.”
He floated easily where he was, water lapping against his shoulders.
“Did ye follow me here?”
Her brows lifted in feigned innocence. “Of course nae.” She paused, then looked about. “I was merely going for a stroll,” she said lightly, clasping her hands behind her back. “And happened tae come this way.”
“By coincidence.”
“Entirely.”
