“Aye, theirs or Peggy’s,” she said, trying to maintain her patience but failing. “I would be happy to spend more time in conversation with you, but anytime you are in the same room as me, the only thing you are committed to is beginning an argument. I honestly don’t know what you want from me, Finlay. Since we married, I have done nothing but try to help in the household, find my place in your family, and get along with everyone here. I have barely seen you besides mealtimes, so I could hardly ever speak with you. What else do you expect of me?”
“I expect you to help my mother and Peggy,” he said tersely. “Not with Roderick, not with Adam, but on your own. If ye need help, ask one of the women. And I don’t believe you married me for my conversation skills. If you’ll excuse me now, I’ve work to do.”
With that, he left the room in a storm, slamming the door behind him, leaving Kyla staring after him her mouth gaping and fury coiling deep within her soul.
* * *
Finlay stamped his feet down the hallway, cooling somewhat as he let himself out of the building. He was well aware of how unreasonable he had been, knew deep within him that all he was doing was pushing Kyla even further away.
But when he saw the gentle smiles she gave Adam or the easy way she laughed with Roderick, jealousy burned within him. He knew neither of his brothers, nor Kyla if he was being honest, felt anything more for one another than the kinship between friends and relatives, but at the same time he also recognized how well her carefree spirit and easy laughter matched Roderick’s, and the way her caring nature and lovingness suited Adam so well. Finlay was everything she was not, and he could never provide her with the kind of life that she deserved.
His head ached as he roamed the hill behind the castle, looking out over the loch below. The water always called to him and his feet moved of their own accord down to the shore. The way the wind rolled off the hills and down to the water, churning the waves, echoed the stirrings within his own soul.
Somehow, despite the dance upon the loch’s surface, this valley provided him a sense of peace he couldn’t find anywhere else. His blood still boiling, Finlay looked around and, seeing no one about, he stripped down to nothing, the cold air biting his skin as he walked through the grass, over the sandy beach, and dove into the shallows, the shock of the freezing waters engulfing him and taking his breath away. It had the desired effect, however, of clearing his mind and easing the tension in his shoulders.
Finlay rose to the surface, then took a breath and dove back down into the water, swimming out as far as he could. The water streamed over his bare skin, cooling him, calming him, reminding him of all the fortune that smiled upon him, of all that was at stake. He needed to be better. He needed to be the man Kyla wanted, if he had any hope of keeping her. Finally he needed air, and when he broke the surface, he thought he heard a voice calling to him. Perhaps it was the wind. But no, there it was again. He turned, looking for its source.
“Finlay! Finlay McDougall!”
He looked to shore, his gaze finally coming to rest on Kyla, standing on the rocky beach. In her simple skirt and white blouse, her long blonde hair blew in the wind, its own sunshine on this gray, cloudy day. She looked cold, and he realized with a start that he was starting to shake himself from the freezing water. The night temperatures had drastically cooled the loch, and he had jumped in thinking only of the relief the water would bring.
“Get out of there! You’ll freeze to death!” Kyla called over the waves, her hands cupped around her lips so her voice would carry.
“Leave me be, Kyla!” he yelled back at her. “Go back to the house.”
“Not until you come out of the loch,” she shouted back at him as he reluctantly began swimming toward shore, realizing she wouldn’t leave until he emerged. If they kept up this shouting at one another, the whole house would soon be standing upon shore. “This is ridiculous—you must be mad!”
As he neared the edge, he realized she hadn’t noted his plaid lying to the side, discarded when he had jumped in the water. While all of the brothers wore English garb when traveling south, here at home they preferred the traditional kilt, in the bright red of the clan.
The McDougalls were never known for their modesty, and as he walked out of the water and onto the shore, he enjoyed seeing her mouth gape as she stared at him, taking him in from head to toe. He walked over and wiped his face with his plaid before fastening it around his waist.
“You were saying?” he asked her.
Kyla remained staring at him, her mouth gaping open, speechless, and Finlay finally had to laugh. Clearly, she had not been prepared for what faced her when he walked onto shore. He patiently waited for her to continue.
“What—what did you say?” she asked, finding her voice.
“I asked what it was you wanted to say to me.”
“Oh,” she said, seeming to refocus. “Aye. I… I simply wanted to say that you canna run away from every argument. We are married now, and like it or not, for the time being we must learn to make do with the arrangement. And that means having reasonable conversations. You canna rage and storm away every time something happens you don’t like. While we may not be a traditional husband and wife, we are, at the very least, business partners and must work that way.”
He considered her words for
