north end of the island to the loch, and she could see over the wall to the northeastern shoreline beyond it to her right.
A figure walked there, a well-shaped masculine figure, completely naked. Feeling chillier just watching him, she drew the quilt closer. He turned then and raised his face toward the gray eastern sky. She had suspected who it was the moment she saw him, but there could be no mistaking him now.
As she watched, he looked from the gray sky back to the equally gray water before him, took a few running steps, and dove in.
Flinging the quilt aside, Catriona snatched her old blue kirtle from the hook where Ailvie had hung it, threw it on over her head, pulled the front lacing tight, and tied it swiftly. Without a thought for her hair, let alone for washing her face or hands, she flew barefoot down the stairs and past the great hall to the main entry.
There she paused. Drawing a deep breath, she pulled open the door and went with more dignity down the timber stairs and across the yard to the gateway.
Chapter 4
The water was so cold from its snowmelt tributaries that it took Fin’s breath away. He felt an intense urge to shoot straight back up and out, as if he could then run back across the water to where he’d left his tunic and braies on the rocky shore. So great was the icy shock of diving in that it almost made such a feat seem possible.
When he did surface, gasping, he began to swim hard and fast.
Reflecting the gray dawn light as the loch had, with the spectacular, knife-edged, still snow-covered granite ridges and peaks of the Cairngorms providing a backdrop to the east, the water had looked so silvery and serene that he had felt guilty even to think of disturbing its calm. But he wanted to feel clean again and to see if the water would reopen his wound.
Soon he felt the agreeable awareness of exploring virgin water, and his sense of humor stirred. He was putting his mark on the loch, conquering new territory.
If his wound had opened, the cold water numbed any indication of it.
The lass had said no more about stitching the gash, but when they’d reached Rothiemurchus, her family had given her precious little chance to say anything to him. In truth, though, he did not think it necessary for anyone to sew him up.
The very thought of her sticking a needle into his aching forehead…
Briefly, he shut his eyes.
Focusing again, and warmer, he took powerful strokes toward the eastern shore, less than a quarter-mile away. Despite the water’s hitherto calm appearance, he felt a current trying to tug him toward the north end of the loch. It did not pull hard enough to worry him, only to make him work harder. He would explore later and see where the water spilled out of the loch. It might provide a good waterfall.
He was partial to falls, especially when they were as full as any in that area should be at that time of year, when the snows were still melting.
He had warmed up enough to breathe normally and know that he was not going to freeze. So, when he neared the eastern shore, he turned back toward the castle without pausing. Continuing his fast, powerful strokes, he took pleasure in the exercise until he realized that he was nearing the island shore again. He knew that if he were careless, he might hit a rock with a foot or his fingertips.
Looking ahead to judge how much nearer he could safely swim before feeling for the bottom, he saw Catriona walking with her wolf dog on the shore. She was looking down, watching the ground in front of her.
She had walked confidently with her head up the previous day, despite rougher terrain, so he wondered if she was upset about something. Or, perhaps she had seen him, noted his nudity, and was shy of letting him know that she had.
He had a sudden desire to test that possibility.
She wore the same old blue kirtle that she had worn kilted up the day before. So, either she enjoyed early-morning rambles, as he did, or she had come outside in haste because she had seen him swimming or walking naked on the shore.
The dog glanced his way but stayed at her side.
Her confidence in rowing the overladen boat had assured him that she could swim, because he, too, had spent