The realization should have terrified him. Instead, it settled into his chest with the weight of inevitability.
“But first,” Skye announced, pulling back from the enthusiastic embrace, “ye must do the things that make people believe ye’re really in love.”
Murdock forced himself to focus on his daughter rather than the woman whose hand he still held. “We agreed to that, lass. At the council meeting, we’ll?—”
“Nay, Da.” Skye shook her head vigorously. “Beforethe council meeting. Ye must practice. And ye must do the important things first.”
Leona’s fingers twitched in his grip. “What important things?”
“Well,” Skye hummed, tapping her chin in a gesture she’d picked up from her Aunt Kristen, “Aunt Ailis says ye must save the lass from something first. That’s how Uncle Killian won her heart. He saved her from a bad person who was trying to hurt her.”
“He’s already done that thrice,” Leona reminded her gently. “Yer da saved me from Ragnall. That’s why I’m here.”
Skye’s face scrunched up in concentration. “But the councilmen ken that already, aye? So it doesnae help now.” She turned in a slow circle, looking out at the loch, the rising sun, the castle in the distance. Then her face lit up. “I ken! Ye must go swimmin' together!”
Murdock felt heat creep up the back of his neck. “Skye…”
“Aunt Ailis and Uncle Killian do it all the time,” his daughter continued, oblivious to his discomfort. “They go to the loch or the river, and everyone kens nae to bother them. The maids giggle about it. They say it’s very romantic.”
The giggling maids had no idea what they were talking about, Murdock thought. Or perhaps they did, which was worse.
Swimming meant removing clothes. Wet skin. Bodies close together in the water, with nothing between them but intention and increasingly threadbare self-control.
He glanced at Leona and found her face had gone the color of summer roses.
“That’s very thoughtful, Skye,” she said carefully, “but I daenae think?—”
“Ye said ye’d try me way,” Skye reminded her, crossing her small arms. “Ye promised.”
“Aye, but?—”
“And Da promised, too.” Those dark eyes swiveled to Murdock, pinning him with the same look his mother used to give him when he’d tried to weasel his way out of his responsibilities. “Ye always say a man’s only as good as his word, Da.”
Clever little thing. Using his own words against him.
Murdock looked at Leona again. Her hair was coming loose from its braid, dark strands catching the early light. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, but there was color in her cheeks now, life returning to features that had been pale and drawn when he’d found her on the dock.
She’d been planning to leave. To slip away before the council meeting, to return to that bastard Ragnall rather than risk bringing war to Ainsley.
The knowledge made something fierce and possessive rise in his chest.
She was his to protect. His to keep safe. And if swimming with her, if letting his daughter’s innocent matchmaking run its course, might convince her to stay…
“The loch does look invitin',” he noted quietly.
Leona’s eyes widened. “Ye’re nae serious.”
“I’ve learned to trust the women’s instinct.” He kept his voice light, but his gaze held hers. “Me daughter thinks we should swim together. Me maither always said the lasses ken best about matters of the heart.”
“This isnae about hearts,” Leona protested, but her voice had turned breathy. “It’s about strategy. Performance.”
“Aye.” Murdock let his thumb stroke across her knuckles, just once. A small gesture, but he felt her shiver. “And we’ll perform better if we practice, aye?
“Besides,” he continued, before she could marshal another argument, “it’s a week. That’s all the time we have before Ragnall arrives. It’s enough time to come up with somethin'. To prepare. And the loch does look invitin',” he repeated.
Before Leona could respond, Skye took matters into her own small hands. Literally. She bent down, scooped up a handful of water from where it lapped against the dock, and flung it directly at Leona.
“Skye!” Leona gasped as cold water hit her face and soaked the front of her gown.
