The look she turned on him was scathing. “I don’t think you understand the concept. Honey is not the same thing as blackmail.”
He shrugged unrepentently, trying to hide his smile. “You wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Besides, it won’t be so bad. The water is shallow, and I won’t let go of you. I used to swim at this loch all the time when I was a boy. Actually, it’s more of a small pool. It’s private and sheltered by a thick copse of trees. There will be no one there to see you.”
“You’ll be there,” she said pointedly.
Aye, and he couldn’t wait. Just the thought of her all wet in a thin linen sark made his blood heat. Teaching her to swim would definitely have his rewards. “But I’m harmless,” he said with mocking innocence.
She didn’t even dignify that with a response, simply snorting her disavowal.
They rode a few minutes longer, and he broached the subject that had been bothering him. “Why did you never learn to swim?”
She eyed him carefully, drew a deep breath, and recounted the episode at Inveraray when she was a child. The story made his blood run cold. Twice she’d nearly drowned.
The chilling episode also explained more than her inability to swim. He could almost see the lonely girl—much younger than her siblings—so eager to belong that she was willing to do anything. And he also saw what it had cost her, leaving her firmly entrenched on the outside looking in.
“And you’ve avoided the water ever since?”
She nodded. “Not an easy prospect in the Highlands, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”
That was an understatement. Especially in the Isles, where both her brothers resided. He wondered if that perhaps explained some of her reluctance to travel to Dunvegan Castle on Skye, or to Duart Castle on Mull, for that matter.
He frowned, remembering something. “You did not seem unusually nervous on the boat ride to Drimnin.” And as he recalled, the sound had been particularly choppy that day.
His observation appeared to fluster her. He thought a touch of pink heightened her color, but it could have been the effects of the warm day and the vigorous ride.
“I think I was more concerned about the immediate threat of having just been abducted.”
He held her gaze. “You were never in any danger, lass.”
“I wasn’t so sure of that then.” A soft smile turned her lips. “Or now, for that matter.”
It was clear that the prospect of learning how to swim truly frightened her. Perhaps if he’d been aware of the circumstances, he would not have been so forceful in his method of persuasion. But then again, she wouldn’t have agreed. And in this case, the end justified the means.
The lass had every right to her fear, but she could not let it control her. “Trust me, Flora. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He saw a slight shiver run across her shoulders and wished she were closer so that he could gather her in his arms and soothe away her fears.
“You don’t understand. I’ve tried. Truly, I have. But something comes over me in the water. My pulse races so hard that my heart feels weak. My mind goes blank. My entire body goes rigid and my blood runs cold. My hands start to sweat and I feel queasy and light-headed.”
He’d seen men with similar symptoms in battle. It was a type of extreme panic. “Your reaction is certainly understandable under the circumstances. But holding on to your fear has only made you more vulnerable to the very thing that frightens you. And I know you are no coward, Flora.” He held her gaze, telling her with his eyes that he meant what he said. “I won’t lie to you, lass. Teaching you to swim will not make you invincible. I’ve lost too many men to the sea to make such a claim. But it will give you a fighting chance. And believe it or not, there is also great pleasure in it.”
She nodded, but he could tell that she wasn’t convinced.
The copse of trees appeared beyond the hill like an oasis. He hadn’t been to this place in a long time, and unexpected memories of his father came back to him, recalling a more carefree time in his childhood. His father had brought him here one summer when repairs were being done on Breacachadh and the family had moved to Morvern. Only a few years before the death of his mother and then his father only a year later. When there had been time to ride across the moors and to fritter away a long summer day swimming in a loch. It seemed a fitting place for teaching Flora, as this was where he himself had learned to swim. Of course, his father had unceremoniously tossed him in and told him to figure it out—Lachlan had a slightly more civilized method planned for Flora.
He led her through the trees to the small loch. It was exactly as he remembered it. Surrounded by jagged rocks and filled by a burn that led from the mountains, the circular pool was no bigger than a hundred feet in diameter. There was something magical about the place. Without a doubt it was picturesque, with its clear blue green waters, black jagged rocks, and lush emerald green backdrop; but there was more to it than that.
He heard Flora draw in her breath. She turned to him. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”
“The Faerie Pool.”
He half expected her to laugh at the superstitions of the Highlanders who’d given the loch its name, but instead she nodded in agreement. “It suits. I feel like I’m in another world.”
Her response pleased him in a way he couldn’t have imagined. The acknowledgment of the beauty of his land seemed of strange importance. It was as if she were finally relinquishing her old prejudices about the Highlands. She could be happy here. He told himself he would do whatever it took to make her so.
After helping her down, he tended to the horses, giving her time to accustom herself to the place. When he was finished, he removed a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a flagon of claret from his pack, spread out his plaid on the ground, and invited her to sit. She eyed him nervously but did as he instructed. They ate in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature blooming all around them. The song of the skylark, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the gentle trickle of the burn over the rocks as it drained into the loch. He lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching her. Entranced by the way her hair curled around her temple in the heat, the way the sun warmed her pale complexion, the dainty way she ate, and the way she held the flagon to her lips for just a moment too long, betraying her increasing nervousness.
It was time.
