Page 7 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
The journey from Scotland’s civilized capital to its wild north took longer than even the one from home to Edinburgh. Magnolia began to wonder if she would ride in this carriage for eternity. They stopped nightly for rest and refreshment at whatever inn they could find, but the further north they traveled, the sparser the inns became.
She noticed the change just as she’d seen it when they had crossed the English-Scottish border when they left what she knew as civilization behind.
Extraordinary,Magnolia thought to herself as she watched, entranced,I would never have imagined a place such as this.
The grass grew wilder, the birds sang louder. As they trundled along a hillside road, Magnolia could see nothing but Scottish mist for miles around. The drizzly fog gave the whole world an ethereal quality, which both unsettled and excited her.
On the days when the mists were less thick, or when they traveled at a lower dip, the view outside the window was spectacular. It did rain a lot, more than she was used to, but when the rains finished, they just seemed to have enhanced the landscape rather than diminish it.
The trees were taller than any Magnolia could remember seeing before in her life, towering over them like towers or castles. Once, when they traveled directly through a forest, the dense pines seemed to completely block out the sun.
It is like an illustration from a manuscript of children’s faerie stories. Like an evil witch or a clever pixie could jump out of the darkness at any moment and spirit me away forever.
Magnolia shivered at the thought, and though, of course, she did not believe in such things, she retreated from the window until the forest had passed.
When they passed farmland, even the animals seemed different. The sheep were sheep, though they appeared to frolic more here than on the farms in England. The cows she spied, though, were like creatures she had never imagined.
They were not the standard dairy cows and bull studs she knew, but rather another beast altogether. They were roughly the shape of a cow, and the size too, but they had broader shoulders, longer horns, and perhaps most strangely, they were covered in thick, shaggy brown hair!
The first time she saw them, she didn’t even realize that they were cows at all. They had stopped for the night at a small cottage. She and the driver were eating together out in the garden when she pointed to the animals in the field across from them.
“What kind of beast is that?” she asked. “I have never seen its like.”
The driver, a hardy Scotsman in his fifties, burst into laughter. “That’s a Heilan’ coo, lass,” he said. “That’s what coos look like up in these parts.”
She’d spent enough time with him now that she understood that he meantHighland cow,but it seemed so strange to her that these creatures should be the same as the farm animals back home, or even further south!
On pleasant days, she’d spy flowers she’d never seen before in her life, and sometimes the driver would stop so she could pick them. She was entranced by one she’d never seen, a strange spiky plant with a brilliant purple flower that displayed as thousands of little hairs on top.
When she pointed it out to him, he simply laughed, though not unkindly. “That isnae a flower, Miss. It’s jist a weed.”
“But it’s so beautiful,” she said, surprised. The driver shrugged, and she moved deeper into the field, her skirt catching on the high grass as she walked past, the smell of the fresh air almost too sweet in her lungs. She knelt next to it and carefully reached out a finger to brush the tiny violet petals.
“Och, dinnae—” the driver started, obviously alarmed.
“Ouch!”she exclaimed, withdrawing her hand in surprise. The petals were prickly! It hadn’t hurt so much as surprised her; the leaves had looked so delicate.
“Are ye hurt?” the driver asked her.
“No, not at all,” she said, shaking her stinging hand. She covered her hand with the cloth from a layer of her skirt and reached out again, carefully plucking the flower. “I still think it’s beautiful. What is it?”
He chuckled. “It’s a thistle, Me Lady. The national flo’er o’ Scotland.”
“A thistle,” she mused. She tucked the little flower into her bodice, and together they headed back to the carriage.
I wonder if the Laird of Clan MacFoihl will be as prickly as this flower? Or as easy to tame in the end?
Somehow, she doubted the latter very much.
As the carriage trundled away from the wild field, she couldn’t help but think the same thought to herself over and over again. Would this end with her triumphantly returning home with the information the crown needed from her? Or would she get stung, and this time not so lightly?
3
The Hiring
“Dadaidh!” Elaine shrieked as she “found” him again, hiding just behind his favorite rocking chair where he’d sit to read to her at night. “I found ye, Dadaidh! I’m the winner!”
Nathair laughed, scooping his little daughter up in his arms. “Ye surely did! Dinnae ye ever forget, me precious wee heart, ye’ll always find me when you need tae.”
