Page 52 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
Magnolia blinked. “Oh, of course,” she said, handing the dog over to the other woman. “Have fun.”
“We will! Thank ye!” Elaine said, holding tight to Laird Softpaws as she followed her aunt inside.
When they were up in her nursery, both pups sniffing at all their new surroundings, Elaine said, “Auntie Abbie, what secret things are they talkin’ about?”
Auntie Abbie smiled. “Och, dinnae worry yer pretty wee heid. Ye’ve got a good few years before it becomes yer concern. Enjoy them while ye can, me wee button.”
Elaine tilted her head, confused. “Ye adults are awfie strange, Auntie. Will I be strange when I’m an adult as well?”
Abbie let out a chuckle. “Aye, lass, probably. Just enjoy being a bairn for now, though, eh?”
“I can dae that!” Elaine agreed brightly. “Dae ye want to hear a story?”
Her aunt gave her another smile and sat cross-legged on the floor across from her. “Is it about the Fair Folk?” she asked.
Astonished, Elaine said, “How did ye ken?!”
“Ye’re always twitterin’ about the Fair Folk,” Abbie laughed. “But dinnae worry, I love to hear. Wha’s this story, then?”
“Well,” said Elaine grandly. “It is about the Fair Folk…and me Mamaidh.”
* * *
Nathair lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, far too alert to sleep. William and Abbie were staying the night in the castle before heading home to their children the next morning, and Elaine had fallen asleep hours ago.
It had worked. Their plan had worked.
Magnolia’s plan. It was her idea to bait the proud bampot.
Magnolia.
Eilidh’s knowing eyes filled his mind, and he scowled.
Away wi’ ye. Away.
But it had worked. Nathair’s people would receive help from Laird Taylor’s farmhands, and Laird MacCullen had re-opened the supply routes, shamed into the act by the threat to his allyship. Nathair’s clan was still suffering, but, at least this winter, they would not starve.
Magnolia had been exhilarated when William told them the news, entirely losing her decorum as she cheered. She had even gone so far as to hug Nathair in her joy. Nathair’s delight was even higher, and he’d lifted her by the waist, spinning her in a circle and laughing, only stopping when he caught William’s eye.
His friend watched the whole thing with a sly grin, and Nathair and Magnolia jumped apart as though iced. William didn’t say anything. William didn’t have to say anything.
So now here Nathair lay, his chest all a-jumble without an idea of where to begin processing everything. Relief, joy, hope, pain, guilt, happiness–how could one man feel all these things at once?
The hours slowly ran on as he tossed and turned, unable to rest. What would Catrina say now?
But it wasn’t her voice that entered his mind. Instead, he remembered Eilidh’s words from just a few days before.
Dae ye still talk to her? Dae me a favor and listen to her.
He groaned, pulling his pillow over his head, begging sleep to take him.
When Nathair opened his eyes again, he stood somewhere he had never been, and somewhere he’d known his whole life. The pond in the very center of the Faerie Forest, where the heather-pixies drank, and the brownies bathed, and theBean Nighewashed the clothes of the ill-fated.
He could not tell if it was night or day. The trees were old and gnarled, and they rose up high above him, blocking out the sky. It was not dark, nor was it light. Instead, the clearing seemed to exist in an ethereal, eternal twilight, hues of purple and blue and silver bathing everything he could see.
Around him, there was no wind, but he somehow could feel a breeze regardless. The scent of pine trees, of memories of his youth, filled his nose, along with the sweet sting of pollen that beckoned the fall. He breathed in deeply, his senses taking him to a time he’d long forgotten.
Nathair took a step forward towards the pond. He was reasonably sure this was a dream. His legs felt heavy, but he glided like a ghost as he approached it. Something compelled him to sit at the water’s edge, and he knelt without a thought, staring into its depths.
