“I will!”
Declan dismounted and moved to help Francesca down, his hands settling on her waist. For a moment, they stood frozen, his hands still on her, her hands resting on his shoulders. The contact was brief, necessary, utterly innocent.
“Thank you,” she said, stepping back quickly. Too quickly.
They settled on a flat rock overlooking the water while Eloise immediately began gathering stones. Francesca arranged herskirts with careful precision, maintaining a proper distance between them. The silence stretched, not quite comfortable but not hostile either.
“She’s happy here,” Francesca said finally, watching Eloise examine stones with intense concentration. “Happier than I’ve seen her since… since before.”
“Aye. Highland air agrees with her.”
Francesca’s cheeks colored prettily. “I see the kittens have fully taken over your castle. Betsy found one sleeping in your study yesterday.”
“I’m aware.” He tried to sound stern and failed. “Little grey demon knocked over an entire inkwell chasin’ a dust mote.”
“The one Eloise named after you?” Her lips twitched. “How fitting.”
“Ye find that amusin’?”
“A bit.” Now, she was definitely smiling. “There’s something poetic about Declan the kitten causing chaos in Declan the Laird’s study.”
“Poetic isnae the word I’d use.”
“What word would you use?”
“Disruptive. Proof that I’ve lost all control over me own household.” But he felt his own lips curving in a smile despite himself. “Though I suppose there are worse things.”
“Such as?”
“Havin’ a wife who thinks she’s clever.”
“I don’t think I’m clever.” She turned to face him fully, eyes dancing with mischief he hadn’t seen in days. “I know I am.”
This felt good. Natural. Like something they’d been doing for years instead of weeks. Like maybe they could be more than two people bound by duty and inconvenient desire.
“Laird MacGhee!” Eloise’s voice carried across the water. “I keep trying, but the stones just plop into the water!”
“Can I join you?”
“Yes, if you’ll teach me.”
Declan stood, offering Francesca his hand without thinking. She hesitated only a moment before taking it, letting him pull her to her feet. They made their way to where Eloise stood, surrounded by a pile of rejected stones.
“The problem,” Declan said, crouching beside her, “is yer stones are too round. Ye need flat ones. Like this.” He demonstrated,selecting a smooth, flat stone from her pile. “And yer grip is wrong. Here, let me show ye.”
He positioned himself behind her, guiding her small hand into the correct grip. “Now, ye want to throw it parallel to the water. Nae up, but across. Like this.”
He helped her release the stone, and they watched it skip once, twice, three times before sinking.
“I did it!” Eloise shrieked. “Did you see? Three times!”
“I saw.” He couldn’t help grinning at her enthusiasm. “Try again. See if ye can beat it.”
For the next hour, he worked with her, teaching her the subtle art of stone skipping while Francesca watched from their rock. Each time Eloise managed more skips, her delighted laughter echoed across the water. And each time Declan glanced back at Francesca, he found her watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite name.
“Your turn,” Eloise finally declared, handing him a perfectly flat stone. “Show us how it’s really done.”
“Is that a challenge, lassie?”
