Cecily nodded and slowly chewed on the slightly stale bread. “I dinnae suppose one can catch a roasted chicken in that loch.”
Artan grinned. “Nay, nor a fine apple pudding either.”
“Ah, weel, ’tis still lovely e’en if it is useless. ’Tis cold, though.”
“So ye willnae wish to be swimming in it, aye?” He allowed himself a fleeting moment of regret for the loss of a nice dream of them swimming naked together. Considering how chill the water was, that was probably for the best, as he would not appear at his manliest in such water.
“I cannae swim.” She sighed. “Da meant to teach me when we returned to Dunburn after visiting my uncle for he had heard that I spent a great deal of time by the burn. He feared I might drown if I played too close to the water and fell in.”
“I could teach ye, but nay here and nay today. When we are at Glascreag. There are several places where I can take ye to teach ye how to swim.”
She looked at him and suddenly felt incredibly sad. “I may nay be staying long at Glascreag.”
“Ye will be.”
“And ye say I am stubborn,” she muttered. “I may be leaving with the Donaldsons and Sir Fergus when they arrive at my uncle’s gates.”
“E’en if ye cannae believe what I say about them and their plans, why return with them? Ye dinnae like them, dinnae like Sir Fergus, and ye are nay happy at Dunburn.”
“True. All of that is verra true, and I think ye will understand if I dinnae thank ye for making me see that. Howbeit, unless I accept all your talk about lies, deceptions, thievery, and plots to murder me, I must look at promises made and duty owed.”
“Do ye nay owe your mother’s brother a duty as weel?”
“I do and I begin to believe the Donaldsons did purposefully keep my uncle and I apart. My duty is to see that that ne’er happens again. I am nay sure what the laws are concerning guardianship, but it might cause my uncle a great deal of trouble if I did try to stay at Glascreag. I am worried enough about the trouble ye and I are about to bring to his gates, but that can be turned aside by my returning to Dunburn with the Donaldsons and Sir Fergus.”
“Angus willnae care about that. He would drag himself out of his sickbed just to have a chance to fight some Lowlanders.”
“Weel, I shall be sorry to deprive him of his fun, but I willnae allow it. Others are always hurt in such battles, innocent ones and ones who have no part in whate’er argument set the men at sword point with each other.”
Artan had to chuckle over her dry tone of voice. She made denying Angus the chance to fight sound like she was denying a child a little treat. The rest of her argument was sound, however. Artan could agree with it even if such concerns did not always stop him from joining in a battle. His concession to such things was to do his best to make sure neither he nor any men fighting at his side were guilty of hurting the innocent caught up in the midst of a battle.
Her talk of leaving Glascreag shortly after she arrived did not trouble him much. He was confident she would see the truth by then, and if she did not, he would simply secure her somewhere within the keep until she did. Also, he could stop worrying about it altogether if she married him. Cecily would feel bound to him by the exchange of their vows and he knew she would never walk away from him then.
Not even when she discovered what secret he had been keeping from her, he thought, and silently cursed his own cowardice. They had spent hours talking about her past and his, yet he still hesitated to tell her about what Angus had offered him. There was a contrary part of him that felt it should not matter. Many men married for gain, and it made no difference to what they felt or did not feel. In this instance, it was also mostly for her that the offer was made. Angus could not leave the lairdship of Glascreag and its people to a small, bonnie lass simply because all the surrounding clans would see it as an invitation to take Glascreag. He needed to have a strong man at the head of the clan. A marriage satisfied both that need and the one that the man had to leave something to the child of his sister, one of the few remaining close kin he had. It made perfect sense and should not trouble her that it was so or make her think it lessened what Artan felt for her.
That, of course, was the way a man felt. Artan could not depend upon her feeling the same. Worse, he was not skilled enough with sweet words to convince her that he did feel something for her, something far above and quite separate from what he gained by marrying her.
He shook aside that concern. If he could not find the right moment or the courage to tell her about Angus’s bargain before they reached Glascreag, he would deal with the matter when they did arrive. His only concern should be that she did not find out about it from anyone else.
Knowing they could not linger here too much longer, Artan stood up and pulled her up to stand beside him. “We shall need to leave soon, and I intend to wash some of this dust off. Do ye feel the need to do the same? I can swim verra weel, so ye dinnae need to fear ye will drown if ye tumble in.”
“That is a comfort,” she murmured as she frowned toward the water, then nodded. “Aye, I think a brief wash in even that cold water will be welcome. I cannae e’en convince myself that, since we will be back on the horse and riding until the sun sets, ’tis all a bit of a waste of time.”
He laughed and began to pull off his boots. It pained him to do so, but he cast aside his plan to steal a few moments for some lovemaking. There was a sense of unease growing inside of him, a warning of trouble, and he would heed it. A quick cleansing and they would be back on Thunderbolt and leaving this place. When he finished pulling off his shirt and saw that Cecily had stripped down to her shift, he almost changed his mind, but pushed aside the urge to give into temptation. He could not ignore his instincts and they were indicating that this place was not a safe place to linger for too long.
Cecily squeaked with shock when she stepped into the cold water. She had to laugh at the dramatic shudder Artan gave when he strode into the water. Despite his assurances that she was safe, that he could swim very well and could rescue her if it was needed, she stepped farther into the water very cautiously. When the water reached her knees, she stopped, unwilling to go any farther. Crouching down, she slowly washed the dust and the scent of horse from her skin. Her shift was soon soaked, but she did not care. It too needed a rinse and it would dry quickly in the heat and the sun.
“Hold your head back, lass, and I will rinse your hair for ye, if ye wish it,” said Artan.
“Oh, aye, I should like that.”
Artan tried not to stare while he washed her hair with the clear water of the loch, but it was hard. The water had turned her light shift so thin he could see all of her charms. The moment he finished with her hair, he strode farther out into the water and dove in. The cold of the water was so sharp it made him grit his teeth, but it did the job he intended it to do. He was no longer hard with lust.
For a little while, Cecily watched him swim. The fear she had felt when she had seen him dive into the water eased as she saw that he had not succumbed to an idle boast when he had told her he could swim very well. It was fascinating to watch his strong body move along so gracefully in the water, but the cold soon drove her back onto the bank. She was not surprised when he soon joined her there. Even he had to feel that cold after a while.
“I need to skip into the trees for a moment,” she said as she used the blanket he had handed her to rub herself dry.
“Skip away, but nay too far,” he said as he donned his shirt and began to pull on his boots.
