Page 18 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
“The English are unsettled,” William told him immediately, in the same tone as someone informing Nathair that water was wet. “Someone’s been spreadin’ all sorts o’ misinformation again, and they’re a’ wound up and champin’ at the bit for some fightin’.”
Nathair scowled, sipping at his whiskey. “Well, they arenae gettin’ it fae me,” he said. “The MacFoihl Clan has seen mair than enough o’ war. The whole o’ the country has. The Lowlands already play nice wi’ the English. Even the royal families are mixed. What else can they possibly want? What dae they want from us up north?”
William shrugged. “Dinnae ask me how the English mind works, Nathair. I just report what my intelligence agents tell me. Ye ken that. Ye’re the master strategist. I just ken how tae get them tae point their swords in the right direction.”
Nathair snorted, though it was a sad sound.
Master strategist, he says. Ye’re a loyal friend, William, but yer bias is showing. If I was half the strategist ye think o’ me, we widnae have lost so many good men in battle. So many fathers an’ sons an’ brothers, all gone because I couldnae protect them.
“So what dae we need?” he asked out loud. “Are they sendin’ an army? Dae we need tae prepare for war again?”
Please say nay. Please. I dinnae ken that we can survive again.
“Nay,” William said, and relief flooded through Nathair. “We dinnae yet, at least. They’re just mutterin’s for now. They havenae mobilized any o’ their men yet. The minute we hear somethin’, ye’ll ken about it.”
Nathair drained the rest of his glass and poured them both another. “I ken that. I trust ye wi’ my life, and wi’ Elaine’s, ye ken I dae. Thank ye for keepin’ me informed. I’ll look intae it from my end an’ see what’s what.”
“It’s me job, Me Laird,” William told him respectfully. Then he dropped the title and flipped back into his more informal, relaxed tone. “I’ve another mission, tae.”
“Oh aye?”
“Aye. Yer daughter’s worried about ye. She says ye havenae been actin’ yerself as late.” For some reason, as he said it, William had a remarkably sly smirk on his face.
Nathair blinked. He hadn’t known what his friend was going to say, but he would never have imagined it was this. “I’m worrying me Elaine? Why? What’s she sayin’?”
“She says she’s worried that ye had a fight wi’ her nanny. Magnolia, was it?” William asked. He leaned forward across the table. “Been spendin’ a lot o’ yer time wi’ Magnolia, have ye?”
Nathair grunted. “Shut yer face, William.”
That just delighted his friend more. “So ye did have a barney wi’ the wee English lass?Why?”
“Och, it wasnae anythin’,” Nathair said, shaking his head. “It was just a bad moment for the two o’ us. I’m sure she’s forgotten a’ about it a’ready. And as for Elaine, you tell her from me to keep her nose out o’ adult business.”
William raised an eyebrow. “Andisthere any?”
“Any o’ what?”
“Anyadult business?”
Nathair reached over the table and lightly shoved at his friend’s shoulder. “Ye’ve always been one o’ the most ridiculous men I’ve ever kenned, Will. Stop talkin’ nonsense.”
William gazed at him for a moment, his smirk still irritatingly in place. “Whatever ye say, Nathair,” he said. He lifted his glass and held it up in salute. “To Elaine.”
Nathair chinked his glass against William’s. “To Elaine,” he repeated.
The both of them drank deeply, and Nathair breathed easily, glad they’d moved on from…whatever that bizarre conversational turn had been.
Why was William talking about Magnolia anyway? The whole thing was absurd. Nathair would need to speak with Elaine.
He downed his whiskey.
That’s enough, Nathair. There isnae time for this kind o’ nonsense.
“So, how’s yer wife? The bairns?” he asked.
For a second, he thought William was going to refuse to change the subject. Thankfully, though, he leaned forward, and the two started to talk about times, new and old.
* * *
