Page 36 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
She heard a distant howl: were there wolves in the Faerie Forest? Perhaps the Unseelie gnomes rode them into battle, while the Seelie pixies mounted foxes?
Smiling at that silly image, she walked on. She turned a corner, her back on the lake, into a more well-trimmed section of the gardens. It was the lawn where the Laird sometimes laid out tables for his guests in the good weather.
Magnolia walked a little further, now with a destination in mind.
The air felt clean, breathable, and she could hear and see much more clearly than in the gardens at Elfinstone. Was it the Scottish atmosphere, or had being here actually heightened her senses? She couldn’t know for sure.
In the center of the area sat the ornate fountain, topped with a carved stone statue that was only made more majestic by its weather-formed age. Magnolia had often admired it on her walks with Elaine.
Perhaps I shall go and sit at the fountain now. I may even toss a coin in for good luck.
The statue was one of her favorite features of the MacFoihl Castle grounds. Unlike most fountains, the figure it bore was a male, tall and disheveled but still strangely beautiful, with moss carved where clothing would be on a normal man.
As she reached the fountain, she continued to examine the statue and the water pouring from the jug in his hands. On closer inspection, she could see names scratched into the plinth at his feet, some so old that real moss had all but filled their gaps.
The most recent scratchings looked perhaps twenty years old, maybe a little less, and it was with a jolt she recognized three of the names.
Catrina Kelton. Nathair Irvine. William Candlish.
She reached out, ignoring the cool splashing of water on her skin, and traced Nathair’s name on the damp rock. How long ago had he done this? Why?
“We call him theGhillie Dhu,” a voice said, startling her out of her thoughts. Only then did Magnolia notice that Nathair himself was here, sitting on the other side of the fountain.
“Nath—My Laird. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Magnolia told him, giving him a little curtsy.
It was true; Magnolia had no idea Nathair was present until he spoke. He’d previously been hidden by the statue as he watched the stars, but now he was looking at her curiously. “Dae ye like him?”
“He’s beautiful,” she answered, her eyes flicking between him and the statue. “What doesGhillie Dhumean?”
Nathair smiled, getting to his feet and walking closer to her, also looking up. “TheGhillie Dhu–the dark-haired youth–is one of theAos Sith.Dae ye ken o’ them?”
“I do, indeed,” Magnolia agreed. As he moved next to her, she felt a pleasant warmth deep in her bones that had very little to do with the rather fresh summer air. “Elaine has taught me several lessons on Fae creatures since I arrived.”
The Laird chuckled at that. “Is that right, aye? Me Elaine loves her Fair Folk, it’s true. I note ye dinnae call them by their more common name. Are ye superstitious, Magnolia?”
He’s right. I didn’t call them ‘faeries’ like I usually would. How odd.
She shrugged. “I suppose I like to keep my bets open, My Laird. Elaine seems rather certain I shall be cursed if the Folk hear me call them by that name. I see no issue in being cautious, even if I do not really believe something bad will happen.”
Nathair nodded. “Wise,” he said. He turned to look at her for the first time, and she saw that his eyes were even more tired than before, the dark circles thicker, the defeated angle to his shoulders more pronounced.
Had he really been sick? Was he now ill? Magnolia couldn’t help but feel a rush of concern.
“My Lai—” she started, but he interrupted as if he hadn’t heard her start speaking.
“Has Elaine told ye the story o’ theGhillie Dhu?” he asked. “It was one o’ me favorites as a bairn.”
Magnolia was ready to protest, but she saw a softness in his eyes at the mention. Maybe right now, a good faerie story would help more than any platitudes. “I don’t know it,” she admitted. “Will you tell it to me?”
Surprise crossed Nathair’s expression, but only for a second. He nodded, sitting heavily down on the fountain side once more, and beckoned she join him.
She sat, a little nearer than him than she usually would or than etiquette would dictate. She told herself firmly that it was so she could hear him over the pouring water of the fountain.
Nathair began to talk, and she realized something she’d never known. He had a voice for telling stories, deep, rich, and robust, and as he spoke, she found herself spellbound.
“As I said, theGhillie Dhuis a member o’ theAos Sith,but he’s kept separate from most o’ the other nobility. He likes to keep himself to himself. He lives in the mountains an’ forests an’ makes his clothes from moss and bracken, and whatever else he can find, uninterested in the politics of the Fae courts.”
“I see why you like him,” Magnolia teased, and she was rewarded by a faint smile on his lips.
