Page 103 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“The water will be cold,” Oscar warned.

She cocked her head. “I daenae think the clue requires warmth.” She turned toward the western passage.

Oscar took the wooden goat so it could be returned later and followed her to the door. “All I am sayin’ is that it is goin’ to be cold outside,” he sighed.

“Then we had better solve it quickly, husband.”

This time, she was aware of what she had called him, so she left the story room before he could answer. His boots followed her into the passage.

She handed him the map, then lifted her skirts clear of the mud and hurried down the damp slope. The rain had stopped, leaving shallow rivulets along the path and beads of water beneath the roofs. Ahead, the weak late-afternoon light spread across the loch, and the surface lay calm beneath thinning clouds.

Oscar followed close enough that she heard each wet strike of his boots as Tommy’s map rustled in his hand.

“Outrunnin’ me willnae make the ring appear sooner,” he drawled.

“Well, keep pace or surrender.”

“I have kept pace this far.” His dry tone made her glance back. She found him smirking. “I expect I can survive the final hill.”

Ceana faced forward and hurried the last few yards.

Soon enough, her eyes landed on the weathered stones that stood along the shallow western bank. She searched the visible faces while Oscar crouched beside the largest and scraped damp earth from its base. He rubbed a patch of mud away with his thumb, uncovering a hooked carving worn pale with age.

“Here,” he said. “The earlier MacKane mark.”

Ceana took the map and compared the copied symbol with the exposed lines. They matched.

Three paces beyond the marker, a cluster of gray and brown stones showed clearly beneath the water.

“I will retrieve it,” Oscar declared.

“Nay,” Ceana responded, already unfastening her cloak.

She spread it over a dry patch of the shore and folded the map inside it. Oscar watched her sit on the marked stone and undo the damp laces of her shoes. By the time she had set them beside her cloak and pulled the first stocking off her leg, he had removed his own cloak and laid it nearby.

His gaze followed her hands as she took off the second stocking. When she rose, his eyes trailed over her bare calves. She held his eyes while she gathered her outer dress and secured it with her girdle.

“Have ye found the clue from there?”

His jaw shifted. “Wait, Ceana.”

She tested the shallows with one bare foot. The bottom remained firm beneath her toes.

“Ceana.”

She didn’t respond. The cold water closed around her ankle before he finished speaking.

She drew in a sharp breath and took another step. The water rose to her calves. At the third step, it reached her knees and soaked the hem of her undergarments.

Most of the stones beneath the surface had the same dull colors. Soon, she spotted a blue one between two larger rocks. “There.”

She bent and reached into the water. Her gathered dress loosened, allowing her wet petticoats to cling higher against her legs. One sleeve dipped past the wrist, and the ends of her hair caught against her damp cheek as her fingertips grazed the blue stone.

Then the rock beneath her left foot shifted.

Water splashed behind her. Oscar waded in with his boots on and caught her around the waist before she could fall. His chest pressed against her back while he planted his feet on either side of the troublesome rock.

“I was keepin’ me balance just fine,” she huffed.