Davina stood ankle-deep in the freezing water of Camas Fhionnairigh, her hands covering her mouth as she doubled over with laughter.

“Which one of ye lads did that?” Finn did his best to appear menacing—which would have been a difficult task to achieve, even without a mouthful of water—but the horde of children jumping up and down around him were too busy laughing to notice.

Finn mopped his dripping hair out of his eyes and narrowed them on little Hamish MacGregor.

“Run, Hamish!” Davina screamed as Finn bolted after him. “Come children, we must help our comrade!” Hiking up her skirts and kicking water at her heels, Davina led her exuberant army toward their enemy.

She clapped her hands and cheered when young Marybeth MacDonnell plucked a small rock from the bank and flung it at Finn’s back, giving him pause long enough for her older brother to catch up and swing his foot around Finn’s ankle.

With their enemy down, the mighty army wasted no time surrounding him and splashing him with water.

“Finn, what have I told ye aboot losin’ a fight?”

Davina looked up from Finn’s drenched face to find Will standing over him shaking his head with mock disappointment.

“Must ye leave all the victories to me?” He drew in a suffering sigh then skimmed his shimmering gaze over Davina and her cohorts.

“Madam, children, prepare to be sorely defeated.”

Davina knew Will loved her as he tackled her into the next swell then took off after poor Hamish. Finn also loved her, evidenced by the way he’d fastened himself to her side when she left Rob’s chambers a se’nnight ago and had barely left it since. She loved them too. She loved Maggie, and Jamie, and even Brodie—who grumbled at her the same way he did everyone else. She loved Camlochlin and the magic of its laughing children and swirling misty mountaintops.

Wringing out her braid, she waded through the shallow surf, laughing and shivering with the cold when Finn sped past her on his way to either aiding Will, or sabotaging him. She set her eyes over the vast hills and smiled when she spotted the one she loved the most bringing a herd of woolly sheep back to the pasture with Jamie and Brodie circling the herd’s flanks. Rob worked hard every day, seeing to the good of his clan, his land, and his livestock. Jamie was often at his side, as was Will—that is, when something more interesting didn’t distract him.

But Will was not the firstborn son of the clan chief of Camlochlin. The duty of seeing his clan continually fed, comfortably sheltered, and kept warm on frigid Highland nights was Rob’s alone… or would be, and his dedication to it earned him Davina’s full faith and trust. She wished he would spend a few hours enjoying the fruits of his labor, rather than always sweating over them. It would take a bit of convincing, but Davina was patient. She didn’t even mind seeing so little of him during the day, for his stamina lasted long after he returned to her each night, honed and hard from his labor and as hungry for her as he had been on their first night together.

She almost waved, but Rob wouldn’t see her from where he was. Looking around, she felt a wave of contentment wash over her. She belonged here, surrounded by nothing but beauty and freedom. Everything before Camlochlin felt like a distant dream, and each day she forgot more of it.

“You look happy.”

She stopped and looked up at Edward, less concerned with Finn or Will’s proximity than he was.

“Please let me speak.” When she nodded, he continued. “I wanted a chance to tell you that I’ve hated myself for four years. I hated what I did to you and more for never having the courage to tell you.”

The truth of his words was in his eyes. Davina believed him. She understood now why he had spent almost every day with her afraid of the day after that. He did not deliver her when the enemy he knew was coming finally did, but fought an army and begged a stranger to save her. “I forgive you, Edward.”

His guilt-ridden expression faltered and he allowed himself to smile at her. “He’s right. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I hated him for the way you both looked at each other. But seeing you truly happy these last several days has helped me see things less selfishly.”

“She gained mercy fer ye once, Asher,” Will said, coming to stand at Davina’s side. “Dinna’ expect her husband to grant it again.”

“Ye’re not supposed to speak to her, Captain,” Finn reminded him, appearing at her left.

“He may speak to me if he wishes,” Davina corrected, then followed Finn’s skittish glance over Edward’s shoulder. She gave them all a reassuring smile through her chattering teeth. Rob was still too far away to see them clearly. She would speak to him later about Edward and tell him she had forgiven him. “If we don’t show others mercy, none will be shown to us. We all do things we regret. None of us are perfect.” She turned her playful smile on Will. “Despite what you tell yourself each night when you lay your head on your pillow.”

Finn laughed, as did Caitlin MacKinnon swaying toward them, her dark hair bouncing around her flushed cheeks.

“There ye are, Captain Asher. I was lookin’ fer ye.”

Edward cracked a tiny smile, then looked away from Davina’s widening grin.

“Ye were such a help yesterday carrying all those heavy bags of oats fer me,” Caitlin practically cooed and looped her arm effortlessly through his. “I was hopin’ ye might lend me yer strong arms yet again.”

“Of course,” Edward promised with a bit of a flush in his own cheeks.

Poor man, Davina thought watching him and Caitlin leave. He hadn’t had a woman smile at him with such brazen intentions in four years.

“I think she fancies him,” she said, completely missing the smirks that passed between Will and Finn. “Will Tristan be angry?”

This time, she didn’t miss their laughter.

*   *   *

Rob tapped the lagging sheep’s rump with his stick and went back to squinting. Was that Will chasing his wife at the water’s edge? Were those her bare knees she exposed while she ran from him? Hell, he was going to do some serious damage to Will’s pretty face later. And Finn… what the hell was he doing splashing around in the waves like a lad of five summers when there were sheep to be sheared?

“She has settled in verra quickly.”

“Hmm?” Rob turned to Jamie. “What?”

“Yer wife.” His uncle pointed toward the banks with his staff. “She seems quite happy here.”

Rob nodded and peered down into the vale. Aye, she was. She told him so every night. What right had he to complain when his wife loved his land and his kin as much as he did? It was what he had wanted, what he had hoped for. He just wished she didn’t enjoy herself so much without him.

“It took Claire almost half a year to get used to livin’ at Camlochlin after Graham brought her here. She only truly settled in after Connor was born.”

“Claire led a verra different life than Davina,” Rob pointed out and tapped another sheep. “The only adventure Davina found while growin’ up was in her books.” He narrowed his eyes while two fat ewes wandered off back up the hill. “Who is that she’s talkin’ to?” He almost didn’t recognize Asher out of uniform and draped in a Highland plaid. The traitorous bastard’s back was to him as well, but Rob knew every body in Camlochlin… and that one did not belong. His jaw tightened on a muffled oath and he took a step forward.

“Will and Finn are with her, lad,” Jamie pointed out when Rob reached for his claymore. “She’s in nae danger from the captain here.”

“I told ye, ye shoulda’ killed him when ye had the chance.” Brodie drawled, a bare heather stem clamped between his teeth. “’Tis no’ too late.”

Aye, a slow death would suit well, Rob thought, pushing his way through the herd. That he’d allowed Asher to live at all still galled him, but the bastard’s boldness in speaking to Davina was too much.

“Look there, Robert,” Jamie called out to him. “He’s leavin’ with Caitlin, and yer wife is safe and sound on her way back to the castle. Dinna’ go chasin’ after her. We need three of us to bring the sheep in.”

To hell with the sheep. Rob had a fox to deal with. He was halfway to the castle when a fiery arrow pierced the sky followed by a cry from the battlement walls.

Rob was still too far away to hear it clearly, but he didn’t need to. The arrow meant there were riders approaching. Quickening his pace to a run, he spared a look toward the hills leading out of Camlochlin. Gilles could not have found them. Not so soon, anyway. When he saw no one in the distance, his heart thudded in his chest. The cliffs. Och, hell, ’twas worse than Gilles.

“’Tis the laird!”

He heard the call plainly now and came to a dead stop. His father was home. And he was early.