Page 12 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
An’ the lass’ answers to me questions were sharp without disrespectin’ me and me position. She’s got a cleverness about her, a wit combined wi’ a strange kind of kindness I havenae seen since…well, nae since Catrina.
Nathair entered his own chambers, sighing as he shrugged off his over-wear and then his undershirt, his muscled chest bathed in the moonlight. He smiled faintly at the tiny miniature portrait he kept on his bedside. It was of his beloved late wife with her shining black hair and those shining gray eyes she’d given to their daughter along with her life. Four-and-a-half years had passed since Catrina’s death, but he would never stop missing her. Or feeling guilty that she was gone.
He moved to his washbasin, soaking his face and splashing water on his arms and torso as was his nighttime tradition. It had been unimaginably complicated, balancing a newborn babe with his duties as Laird and Chief.
He hadn’t even been able to grieve, torn between his duties and fatherhood. Nathair only wanted the best for Elaine, but he had never been able to spend the time with her he liked. When she was young enough for wet-nurses, they had cared for her, but since she was weaned, it had gotten much harder.
Too smart for her own good, me wee chook. Too curious. Too eager to ken the world an’ how it works. A million questions that me and mine didnae and still dinnae have the answers to gi’e her.
The child was remarkably intelligent, with a voracious hunger to learn even at her tender age. It had been too much for many of the nannies that Nathair had previously hired. Many had resigned, and many more simply abandoned their post without explanation.
Aye, and then my heart broke o’er and o’er as the bairn kept askin’ me if it was her fault. It’s me own fault for no’ being careful enough.
The maids and the cook had stepped in. All the servants loved the child as though she was theirs, and Elaine loved them in return. But it wasn’t enough; she was approaching five and needed an education. Not just any education, either. It was unlikely that Nathair would ever produce a son, which meant Elaine would one day be the sole Lady of this castle. There was no telling when that would happen.
So yes, this English lass may have her secrets, but perhaps that was just another sign of her intelligence, and he could use that when it came to his daughter. Besides all of that, though he would never admit it, he was growing desperate. His duties required more and more of his attention, and he lived in fear of leaving Elaine to become lonely.
Nathair knew loneliness better than most. The last thing the Laird wished was to burden his little daughter with it, too. He’d lost his parents at a relatively young age, and his wife was gone now also. The other Lairds treated him with deference, which sometimes made them forget to treat him as human. Apart from William, his army commander, he sometimes felt like he had nobody at all.
Magnolia Leighmoore, or whoever she indeed was, would care for his daughter, he was sure of that. She would stave off the loneliness from the girl, at least.
I’ll jist have to make sure I’m keepin’ my eye out on her.
He lay down on his bed, glancing once more at the miniature of Catrina. Catrina Kelton, the woman he’d married for love when everyone had suggested a more political alliance. He hadn’t regretted it for a moment. When Catrina was alive, she’d given him hope. She’d given him life.
She’d given him Elaine.
What would she say about all of this? He knew already.“Ye need to learn to trust, Nathair.” She’d said that to him in their blissful years of marriage more times than he could remember.
Perhaps she was right, even now beyond the grave. Perhaps now, with this strange English girl, was the time where he would finally permit trust back into his life. It had always been a problem for him, but it was undoubtedly in scarce supply since Catrina’s death.
But as he drifted off to sleep, Nathair had to wonder. Could he truly place his trust in a strange woman when that which was entrusted to her was more precious than any gold? Or would she just be another break to Elaine’s heart like all the rest?
She had better nae. For Elaine’s sake, for mine. And for her own.
4
The Mission
“Ye cannae catch me!” Elaine shrieked, her high little voice sending bluebirds flying from the trees in alarm as she tore through the neatly maintained gardens of the castle. Magnolia chased after her, careful not to trip over her own skirts. She kept her speed slow enough to make it a game but quick enough that she could intervene should the child suddenly veer off course towards the loch.
“You’re a fast one, that’s true,” Magnolia called after her, taking a sharp right turn. She would surprise Elaine by getting ahead and jumping out in front.
Instead, she tripped directly over a crouching gardener who was pruning a rose. The old man yelped and fell sideways, and Magnolia instantly reached down to help. “Oh, forgive me, sir, I did not see you there! Are you quite all right? I’m so very sorry!”
The gardener righted himself without her help, and when he was on his feet again, he gave her a toothy grin. “Och, it’s nae every day an Auld Yin lik’ me gets sic a bonny lass fallin’ fir him.” He laughed heartily. “Dinnae ye worry yer pretty heid.”
Magnolia was glad he was fine, but his thick accent took her by surprise. It was much thicker than Elaine’s or even most of the maids, and she was having a slightly hard time understanding him. “You aren’t hurt?”
“Ye’d huv tae get up weel early tae clock ma auld heid oaf ma shidders,” he said.
Magnolia couldn’t help but giggle.
He’s speaking English, I’m sure, but it sounds like a foreign language! I think he said he’s unhurt, but I barely recognize any of those words at all.
He seemed immensely pleased by her laugh and grinned again. “Me name’s Sandy. And yer the Miss Maggie wee Elaine keeps twitterin’ aboot?”
She felt absurdly pleased with herself for understanding him this time. “I am called Magnolia, really, but yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sandy.”
