Page 66 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
He surveyed her, then his expression softened. “Then that’s good enough for me,” he said softly and pressed his lips to hers.
Only the moon and the dancing stars on the loch witnessed what happened next. The gentle sighs and the low groans were lost in the sounds of the rippling water, and the moonlight cloaked the writhing bodies, allowing them, at least for now, to stay together as one.
And for now, just for now, Magnolia could forget her duty and the impossible choice she faced. Because right now, there was no choice at all.
18
The Letters
This was it. Tomorrow was the day. Four weeks had flown by, both so slow they felt like a year, and so quickly she felt it had barely been a day.
So much had happened. The girl Magnolia had been when she arrived seemed to barely exist anymore. She had lost her maidenhood to a wild Highlander, but it was much more than that. She had made friends, helped save a people from the threat of winter–and yes, she had even found love.
Reality still waited, however. Her Country and her Crown awaited her word, and so did her father. Much as she would like to simply disappear into the wonder of the Highlands of Scotland forever, much as she wished dearly to not have to face her past, the letter carrier would await her tomorrow all the same.
Even if I can stay, then what? Shall I lie about my name and my history to the man I love forever?
It made her head hurt to think about it. It was too much, far too much, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it.
Still, one problem at a time. Right now, there was a letter to deal with.
Magnolia chewed on the end of the pen, knowing she was destroying the beautiful feather but finding herself unable to care. This letter was possibly the most important document that she would ever send in her life. She needed to make sure that she got the wording entirely right.
What was right? What was wrong? What should she tell them, and how could she convince them of the truth?
Magnolia had known for a long time, of course, that the day when she must write the letter was coming. She admitted to herself in private that she had delayed it until the very last possible moment, content to live in the guise of Magnolia Leighmoore just a little longer.
But Magnolia Leighmoore was not sitting in front of her desk with a sharpened swan’s feather in her hand. Instead, Magnolia Winterbourne, Lady of the Elfinstone Estate, was poised and ready to write. She would pen words that could change not only her own life but the lives of an entire clan.
The lives of a whole country. Perhaps even two.
Thank goodness I have been trained to handle the pressure. I’d be entirely falling apart otherwise.
After over an hour of agonizing, she dipped her pen in ink and began to write.
‘For the grand honorable gentlemen of the gathering to which I have forsworn my penmanship,
My heartfelt blessings to yourself and your families. I write as the stated four-week stretch for which you assigned me this task has been completed, and I have much to report. However, be prepared–it may not be exactly as you expected. You see, I came here looking for a war, and instead, I found something entirely different.
Laird MacFoihl rules over a populous but hungry clan. In heart, they are fiercer and stronger than any village I have ever come across, but in coin and bread, they are bereft. The village headman is a ninety-year-old blind widower who lost all of his children and grandsons to war. His granddaughter was also taken from him in the fighting.
Most of the young men in the village have been eradicated in previous wars, most bloodily the events of three years ago. The Laird himself fought alongside his men and barely escaped with his life. Since then, he has had no time for any sort of plotting whatsoever–he has been too busy trying to ensure his people are fed.’
Magnolia re-dipped her pen again, feeling a wave of sadness that made her hands shake slightly as she thought of poor old Ewan and all the pain he had endured.
‘Though Laird MacFoihl is considered strong among the Scottish people, his home site has no preparation for war. As well as a food shortage and a lack of men, there are very few defenses around his boundaries. His closest allies also suffered greatly, and each of the clans is struggling to rebuild.
The only heir to the MacFoihl lairdship is a four-year-old girl. While she is bright and kind, she is but a child. Were anything to happen to the Laird, I am unsure the clan could recover. To the south of the castle sits a village filled with women and children trying to do the work of dead men. To the north, a forest, where the child heir believes the faerie folk reside.
Clan MacCullen, MacFoihl’s closest political ally, exists to the left. A failed attempt at a marriage pact has soured relations, which has been a massive problem for a clan that relies on its allies to rebuild after the previous devastation of battle. Though repairs have begun, the tension still exists, and any rekindling of such could be a true disaster for the people.’
She sighed, thinking of the work they had undertaken to mitigate the threat of closed supply routes. The infighting between Lairds was too much. The clan could not face any more of it.
‘In short, though you may scarce believe it, these Scots and this clan are a people who want nothing more than peace. They wish to be left alone, not to attack what we hold dear. My time in the village, with the people, has taught me that much. They not only detest the idea of further fighting–a large enough act of aggression could annihilate them entirely.
Their army is in tatters. Though their commander is brave and durable, they have lost many soldiers, and there are very few young men left to draft. The Highlanders keep themselves distant from the Lowlands and from the Borders because they know that the further south they travel, the more they are likely to hurt.
To conclude,under no circumstances should you launch an attack on Clan MacFoihl or the northern lands.They are kind, loving people who have suffered much. They plot not against us but instead spend their energies trying to remain afloat in a sea of misfortune. Prithee do not sully our name and the name of our Crown and Country with needless bloodshed on a peaceful clan.
