Once Upon a Highland Summer (27 page)

Alec slumped down onto the bench to consider what he’d heard. She was brave, and smart—she’d known exactly how to defeat Somerson, even if it had cost her everything. She understood what she was doing, it was clear in her eyes. Her freedom, her honor, her independence, her very life was worth more to her than money. He leaned his head back and laughed silently.

She’d been beautiful, bold, a tigress facing down a dragon.

He was more tempted than ever to go and find her, to pull her into his arms and— He groaned and got to his feet, and took the path that led down to the loch. He needed a long, cold swim.

“D
id you see that?” Angus asked Georgiana as Caroline left the room. “First she saved Alec’s life, and then she put the uggsome bastard Somerson in his place! She’s magnificent.”

Georgiana sighed. “She’ll still leave, Angus. She can’t stay.”

“Why not? Alec will see her safe,” Angus said. “He’s a man of honor. He’ll do right by her.”

Georgiana folded her arms over her chest. “I’d say she’s more than proven she can take care of herself. Alec is betrothed to Sophie. If Caroline stays here, she’ll still be doomed to live a life of heartache and sorrow, don’t you see? She has pride and honor of her own. She would never consent to live as your grandson’s mistress.”

Angus glared at her. “What of the girls? They’ve come to love her. So have the villagers. I doubt they’ll love Sophie. Caroline belongs at Glenlorne, but Sophie will forever be an outsider.” He looked at his beloved, realizing that she would have been an outsider at Glenlorne too, if she stayed, hated by the clan just for being a daughter of the enemy. “You could never have stayed with me, could you, all those years ago?”

She smiled sadly. “Do you think I haven’t got Caroline’s courage? It would have been nigh impossible—but I would have tried, Angus. I would have endured anything to be with you, to spend my life here. How can you even ask that?”

“How can I not?” he demanded. “It is impossible, even now.”

“If you believe that, then this curse will never end,” Georgiana said sadly, and faded into the darkness.

A
ngus sat on the bank of the loch, watching Alec swim in the icy waters in the dark. He’d been in there long enough to shrivel his flesh to ice, yet he swam back and forth, back and forth, his muscular body cleaving the black surface like a man trying to escape a shipwreck.

Angus was still waiting when Alec came out at last and flopped down on the bank beside his plaid. Angus knew well enough why Alec was here. It was Caroline. He’d spent plenty of nights in the icy water himself, trying to forget Georgiana, his body as stubborn as his broken heart about letting her go. He stared out at the cold water and knew Alec was facing a lifetime of nights here.

“Lad, you’re going to have to fix this,” he murmured, though he knew Alec couldn’t hear him.

“How the devil am I supposed to fix this?” Alec murmured to the loch.

“It’s a puzzle. I know ye need the money.”

“Sophie,” Alec mused.

“Aye. She has plenty, but there’s more to this than just money. I lived my whole life without love, swimming in this bloody loch because I couldn’t forget her.”

“Caroline.” Alec sighed.

“Georgiana.” Angus sighed. “Not that I could have married her, ye understand.” He took off his bonnet and tossed it on the ground in frustration. “I didn’t have a choice, and you do. I understand, lad, truly I do. You have to choose between your heart’s desire, and your duty as laird.”

Alec stared across the loch at the tower, not hearing a word, and Angus followed his gaze. “Aye, I have my own history with that tower, lad. I know well enough that it can drive a man daft, remembering, wishing things had been different.” Alec didn’t move. “Och, didn’t I teach you anything? Responsibility, duty, I remember teaching ye that. Probably sitting right about here too. The clan comes first, I recall telling ye. I believed it then. I should have taught you about love. When I lost Georgiana, I married for money. I had to, after Culloden. Yer grandmother’s family was loyal to the Crown. They kept their land, their fortune, and they helped hunt down the poor fools who fought for Charlie, but marrying her meant I could keep Glenlorne, and I thought that was all that mattered. I couldn’t have gone after Georgiana, ye understand—she was already married to Somerson, lad. It was too late for us. But you, Alec, you have a choice to make, and I hope ye’ll make it before it’s too late.”

Alec rubbed his wet hair with a fold of his plaid, oblivious. “I know what you’re thinking. I spent many nights swimming here myself, trying not to remember,” Angus said. He smiled out at the water. “Och, she was a sweet thing, just like Caroline is—”

Alec got up and wrapped his plaid around his hips, belting it in place. He didn’t bother to put on his shirt. He slung it over his shoulder and headed back toward Glenlorne.

Angus watched him go, and felt the agony of loss all over again.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-
S
EVEN

I
t was done. Caroline paced the floor of her room. She was free. Or was she?

Freedom came at a price. A terrible price. She would most likely spend her life taking care of other people’s children as a governess, or a teacher. Yet she would not have it otherwise.

She would probably never marry at all, and had no desire to. Her heart belonged yet again to a man she could not have. Unfortunately, this time she wasn’t merely fondly hoping that a certain gentleman would propose, and doing her very best to convince herself she was in love with him.

She knew now that those pallid feelings hadn’t been love at all, just a desire to belong somewhere, to someone, because she’d been raised to expect to marry within her class, breed heirs for him, and run his estates. There would have been no adventures, no surprises, no Alec.

As much as it hurt in this moment, she would not have missed the past weeks for the world.

It was a relief to be free of Somerson, to be independent, though she had been pampered and cared for all her life, had money and luxuries. She could live without those. Losing Alec was harder. Now her choice was made, she knew now she couldn’t remain at Glenlorne and watch as he married Sophie.

She crossed to the window and sat on the window seat, looking out at the old tower, standing sentinel over the glen. “Keep him safe, make him happy,” she whispered.

The crunch of gravel caught her by surprise. Who was out at this late hour? Alec came up the drive. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him from the anonymity of her window, high above him. He was wearing his kilt, but his chest was bare, his shirt over his shoulder. His hair was wet, sleek against his head. The light of the torches that lit the outside of the castle flared over his broad shoulders and naked chest, turning his flesh to gold.

Caroline’s mouth watered, and she remembered exactly how warm his skin was, how hard the muscle beneath, and how she had dug her nails into his shoulders as he loved her. Her first time. And the last, if one didn’t count the wicked game he’d played with her at dinner. Her body flushed and tingled. She wanted more.

She bit her lip and shut her eyes, trying to still the longing.

When she opened her eyes again, Alec had stopped walking. He stood below her window looking up at her, just the way he had the day she first saw him. She held her breath and tightened her hand on the stone sill, and felt his gaze like a gentle finger moving over her skin, quickening her heartbeat, raising goose bumps, making desire rush through her veins. She stared back, unable to move, even to break the spell.

He groaned, and the soft sound echoed off the stones.

She watched as he turned back the way he’d come and disappeared down the path that led to the loch.

For a long moment Caroline hovered in the window, watching the dark path, wishing he’d come back, climb the stairs, throw open the door to her room as he did before. He didn’t come. She should go to bed, be sensible, but what point was there in lying down? She wouldn’t sleep, not with so much in her head to prevent it. She needed— She shut her eyes. She shouldn’t.

She grabbed a shawl and hurried down the stairs.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-
E
IGHT

S
he heard the splash of water as she neared the loch. She paused in the shadows and looked out across the dark, silken surface. She saw his head appear, like a seal or an otter, and she slipped deeper into the darkness under the trees, and almost tripped on his discarded clothes. She should go, she thought, walk away before he saw her, demanded an explanation. She didn’t have one. She was on a fool’s errand. She turned away.

“Don’t go,” he called. “Or at least don’t go if you were looking for me.”

Caroline clasped her hands together tightly as she stepped into view. “I wasn’t,” she said. “Not really. I couldn’t sleep. I was just walking.” That sounded like a thin excuse indeed—what kind of a ninny went walking all alone at night? Mind you, what kind of ninny went swimming at midnight? “Is the water cold?” she asked, striving for a conversational tone.

“Not nearly cold enough,” he replied.

Caroline frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Care to join me and find out?”

She blinked. Was he suggesting she remove her clothing, lay it beside his on the bank, and swim? She’d never done such a thing, not even as a child. Still she was tempted. She’d seen the local children swimming in the loch by day. It was just one more of Glenlorne’s pleasures. A bolt of dismay pierced her. “I’m leaving,” she said.

“Suit yourself,” he called back.

“I mean I’m leaving Glenlorne.”

He was still in the water for a moment. She stared down at her fingers, white as bone in the moonlight. “I will stay for the wedding—Lottie’s wedding—then I will go.” She made the decision as she spoke. She could not stay for his wedding, watch Sophie simper and blush while Alec smiled down at her, kissed her, cherished her.

Too late she realized he was coming out. She watched his silhouette rise from the loch, broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, the water cascading off his skin as he strode toward her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her heart clenched and her mouth dried to ashes.

He stopped a few feet from her. “And where will you go?” He set his hands on his hips, as if he was completely oblivious to his nakedness. He looked like a Greek statue—minus the fig leaf—sculpted and perfect. A shiver of desire coursed through her. She bent to pick up his shirt, handing it to him with her eyes properly averted.

He tossed it aside and stepped toward her. He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “And go where?” he demanded again. “I think I deserve an answer.”

Anger flared, and she pushed his hand away. “How can I stay? After dinner tonight, after—” She stopped.

“What’s William Mears to you, Caroline?” he asked. “You lit up the moment he smiled at you.”

“William?” she squeaked. “You did—that—because I
smiled
at Will?”

He put his hands on his hips, and she tried her best not to look down the length of his body.

“Will, is it?”

“We grew up together. Everyone thought we might marry someday, but he’s betrothed to Lottie. You can’t possibly be jealous of Will. I don’t love—” She stopped before she admitted something best kept hidden.

“He certainly seemed enamored of you. I know lust when I see it.”

So did she, and the evidence of his desire was obvious. She folded her hands over her chest. “Will is like a brother.”

“He wasn’t looking at you like a brother.”

“Still that gave you no right to do what you did.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I was mortified.”

They were standing nose to nose. He reached up and caressed her cheek, his finger icy. “Do you know how beautiful you are when you are properly pleasured?”

“That was hardly proper! Why do you think I stabbed you with a fork?” She made the mistake of looking down at his leg, searching for the puncture wounds. Her breath caught at the sight of his erection.

“Don’t go,” he whispered.

“Do you mean now, this moment?” she asked, surprised at the huskiness of her voice, the weakness in her legs. “It’s all there is, Alec. I can’t stay.”

“The girls need you.”

“It’s not about that,” she murmured, intoxicated by the nearness of his body.

“I need you too,” he said.

Caroline saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She shook her head.

“Only because I am your servant. Because I was—convenient. You have Sophie. There’s no need to apologize for—for what happened in the tower. It was the fire, the drink, the—”

His fingers on her cheek stopped her. His hand was soft, cool, gentle as it stroked her face, cupped her cheek.

“It was more than that. Don’t sell yourself short. I wanted you.”

She stared into the dark hollows of his eyes. “You thought I was Sophie.”

“I thought you were perfect.”

She felt the nearness of his body, the warmth of his skin, despite the fact that he’d been swimming in near ice water moments before. She pressed her cheek into his palm, and shut her eyes for a moment, wished just this once, it was all true, and real, and she wasn’t cursed—

He groaned. “Damn it, Caroline, either kiss me or send me back into the bloody loch! I can’t bear this any longer, being close to you, not touching you.”

With a cry of need, she kissed him, slamming her lips into his, pressing herself against the wet length of his naked body.

Alec caught her lips against his. Her body was warm against his loch-chilled skin, and he molded the length of her body to his, devouring her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, reveling in the taste of her. She was everything he remembered she was, everything he’d dreamed of for weeks. More. He broke the kiss, pressing gently on her shoulders.