Page 37 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
“Oh, aye?” he asked. “Shall I tell ye the rest o’ the story, or are ye gonnae just make fun a’ night?”
Magnolia laughed. “My apologies, My Laird. Go on.”
Nathair seemed to relax more as he spoke, and Magnolia felt a shiver of pleasure that talking with her should be of such help to him. He glanced at the statue once more, then began to tell the story.
“Well, one day, long, long ago, theGhillie Dhufound a wee lass lost in the woods. Some call her Jessie, some Maggie, some Nancy. Whatever her name was, she was properly lost. She’d been missin’ from her wee village for days. Her Maither and Faither had half the clan out lookin’ for her.”
“How old was she?”
“Och, around ages wi’ our Elaine. Four, five, six at oldest. A skinny wee lass wi’ nae business being out and about in forests all on her own. She got turned away tryin’ to get to her aunt’s house, so the story goes.”
Magnolia could picture it vividly; Elaine, with her bright-red plaited hair, lost deep in the forest, calling for help when nobody could hear. The thought made her tremor with worry, even though she knew Elaine was safe. “So, what happened?”
“Well, it was awfie late, so he took care o’ her for the evenin’. Then in the mornin’, he led the wee lass through the forest and to the village boundaries, where her Maither found her safe and sound.”
Nathair smiled, and Magnolia could not help but notice how the moonlight highlighted his features, making his feline eyes shine, and his pale skin glow. He looked like an ancient marble statue, except for the wild hair and beard that marked him out apart from any other man she’d ever known.
He’s as smooth as he is dangerous. Beautiful. He is beautiful.
This time, she didn’t berate herself for the thought. She just kept looking as she asked quietly, “Is that the end of the story?”
The smile slipped from his face, and he looked weary once more. “Nay. Nay, it disnae end so peaceful I’m afraid. See, people dinnae like what they dinnae understand. The clan where she lived was more focused on warrin’ and huntin’ than they were on the return o’ their bairn. So once the wee lass told her story, they gathered the finest hunters in the clan and sent them after theGhillie Dhu.”
Sadness fluttered in Magnolia’s chest as she turned from Nathair to the statue once more. The strange moss-clothed man looked proud but tired and sad, too. In fact, when she looked between the faerie’s expression and the Laird’s, she could scarce tell the difference. “Did they catch him?”
Nathair shook his head. “Nay, that they didnae,” he replied. “They searched the woods for weeks an’ months an’ even years, but they never saw any part o’ the creature. And yet, whenever a child o’ the clan went missin’ in the woods, they’d always turn up again wi’ stories o’ a faerie man who led them home.”
They sat in silence when he finished talking, Magnolia turning the story over in her mind. The similarities between the Laird and the Fae man were more than just in their poise, she realized. “Why are you and Commander Candlish’s names on the plinth?”
“Aye, and Lady Catrina’s, too.” He turned to trace his finger along the wet carvings. “An’ this here is my Faither, Cinéad Irvine, and his Faither an’ Maither, Teárlach an’ Morag. Then there’s my Grandfaither’s Faither, and his before him, and so on until ye cannae see them for their age. It was back then that me ancestor commissioned the statue, ye ken. He said theGhillie Dhuhad a lot in common wi’ the men in our clan.”
“You wrote your name out of tradition?” she asked.
“Aye, so that if I ever went missin’ in the woods, the kind Sith would see his way to getting’ me back home. I insisted me friends be allowed to put their names, too; that’s why William and Catrina are there.” He laughed gently. “Cat really believed she’d be spirited away wi’ the Fair Folk, one day. Maybe she was right the whole time.”
Magnolia waited for a moment, gathering her thoughts. The chirping of the crickets and the gentle breeze combined with the steady beat of the fountain were the only sounds in the world.
She could picture theGhillie Dhunow. A benevolent creature, a protector of children, forced into hiding by men and their lust for war.
Before she even realized what she was doing, she’d reached out one of her hands and rested it on top of Nathair’s. He flinched in surprise at the touch, but he neither moved away nor told her to stop. Instead, he looked up into her face, those green eyes filled with questions.
Questions I can never give you the answers to. Not really.
Instead, she spoke in a quiet voice she barely recognized as her own and said, “I can deny it no longer. It seems strange to me, but you are extraordinarily kind, Nathair.” She waited, but when he didn’t comment on her use of his first name, she continued. “You value what many men do not. Family. Home. Your people. I have rarely met your like.”
He made a soft sound that was halfway between a groan and a whimper, but she could have imagined it for all it showed on his face. He continued to gaze at her, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Aye? And what dae most men value, in yer estimation?”
“War. The hunt, as you said. Possessions and greed and domination,” Magnolia answered without hesitation. “At least back home, that is all that interests most. Not my Father, though. And not you. You are just like the Fae creature in this statue.”
“Oh?”
“You care for your people more than anything. You’d give them the clothes from your back if you thought it would help. And your family, your Elaine…she’s the world to you,” Magnolia explained.
Just like I am the world to my own Father.
His hand curled around hers, but he didn’t say anything as he waited for her to continue.
“And as for war. You talk of war with disgust, like no man I have ever known.”
