Page 49 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
So Magnolia did. She accepted this near stranger’s comfort, crying about the tangled mess in her head, sobbing about how her heart was torn and confused. She’d never know it was possible to feel as many things at once.
At some point, the tiny puppy in her lap woke up and started to rub his head on her hands, offering his comfort too. Eilidh stroked her hair and muttered Gaelic platitudes that Magnolia could not understand.
When her tears finally dried, she sat up, and Eilidh was smiling as she handed her a handkerchief. “There,” Eilidh said. “Doesnae that feel better?”
Magnolia wiped her face. “It does,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
Eilidh nodded. “I’m glad. Now, listen, dae me just one favor? Whatever decision ye make, I ken it’ll be the right one for ye. Ye seem like a smart lass wi’ a kind heart. But whatever ye choose, whatever ye dae next, do me a favor and dinnae break me friend’s heart.”
Magnolia’s eyes widened. “What—Nathair doesn’t—”
“I see how he looks at ye,” Eilidh said. “And I see how ye look at him. If ye have to choose duty, whatever that duty may be, then I need ye to promise me ye willnae drag his heart away wi’ it.”
Magnolia’s cheeks went slightly pink, and she wiped at her eyes again. “I…I will try my best,” she said finally. “I don’t want to hurt him. Or Elaine. I swear that much.”
Eilidh smiled once more. “I ken.” She reached down and tickled the shy puppy under the chin. “He seems to like ye. Why dinnae ye keep him? Maybe he’ll help ye if ye get a bit lost.”
Magnolia stared at her, then glanced down at the tiny pup. “Really? Are you sure?”
Eilidh nodded. “We’re gonnae give one of the litter to wee Elaine to add to the kennels in MacFoihl Castle anyway, but I think it’d be fair cruel to separate you and this wee lad. What dae ye say?”
“I…” Magnolia started. She stroked the dog’s head with one finger and saw his little tail wag, and his big brown eyes brighten with contentment. “Very well. I shall take him. Thank you, Eilidh.”
The Lady nodded. “Excellent. Now let’s go check on the bairn and me Leonard, shall we?”
Magnolia took a deep breath and wiped her face one more time. “Yes. Let’s.”
* * *
Nathair closed the door to Elaine and Magnolia’s room behind him, a smile on his face. Both of the new pups, which Elaine had been given naming dominion over, were curled up asleep on their respective owner’s beds.
Nathair told Elaine very seriously that he knew now he didn’t have to worry about either of them. After all, Laird Softpaws and Sir Spindrift were taking charge of nighttime protection. Magnolia had laughed at that, and it was a piece of music that sounded like sunshine.
“Oh dear, ye’ve got it just as bad as she has,” a voice startled him from his thoughts. He looked up in surprise to see Eilidh standing on the opposite side of the corridor, her arms folded as she watched him exit. “Poor wee Elaine must be on constant tenterhooks.”
“I dinnae ken what ye’re talkin’ about,” Nathair lied, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. Eilidh had always been able to see right through everyone.
Eilidh scoffed. “As ye say. Will ye walk wi’ me?”
He nodded, and the two of them began to stride down the corridor together. They were a study in opposites to a casual onlooker, Nathair supposed. She was short and round while he was tall and muscular. She was dark where he was fair. But they were more alike than a glance would tell.
It’s the eyes, Catrina used to say. We’ve got the same fire in them. Would ye still say that now, love?
As they turned the corner towards the archway that led to the night garden, Eilidh said conversationally, “Dae ye ken that ye were my first love?”
Nathair started, turning his head to look at her. “I was?”
Eilidh laughed delightedly at his surprise as they walked out into the fresh night air. “Och, aye. But by the time I was old enough to ken what I wanted from ye, ye were already deeply in love wi’ Catrina.”
“I…had nae idea,” Nathair confessed. He felt his cheeks warming. Had he really missed all of that? How?
She led him to a bench. “Dinnae look so guilty,” she teased. “It worked out for the best anyway; I got my Michael, and ye yer Catrina and that darlin’ wee bairn.”
“Aye,” he said sadly as they sat together. “Aye. But now they’re both gone, Michael and Cat both. And none of us yet thirty.”
“They’re gone,” Eilidh agreed. “An’ we’re permitted to be as sad about it as we like. But there are upsides, as well. Life moves on, Nathair. Now I’ve got me Leonard, and ye—"
“Dinnae,” he interrupted, a little more sharply than he intended. He knew what she wanted to say, just as much as he knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. “Just…dinnae, Eilidh.”
