Page 81 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
Nathair pulled his sword back just in time, and the bespectacled Englishman did the same. The rest of their men hesitated on both sides, everyone seeming to freeze in place at this unexpected apparition on the battlefield.
Magnolia. Magnolia, how…why…
She glanced at Nathair only briefly before turning to the English soldiers, but Nathair would recognize her anywhere. Her prim stature, her honey-colored hair, the way her voice lilted when she was truly serious.
“Gentlemen!” Magnolia called out, steady and clear as though she was not standing with the points of many deadly weapons pointed her way. “The Viscount has led you here under false pretenses. He would have you slaughter innocents in my father’s and my name. This man is a traitor to the Crown.”
Loud murmuring started, and the bespectacled man went pale.
“Magnolia…” Nathair said in disbelief.
She turned her head to him, but only briefly. “Nathair,” she said. “My Father is coming. We will stop this. All of it.”
“Yer…Faither?” Nathair repeated, still struggling to understand what was happening before him now. “What is this? I thought ye’d retreated. I thought—”
“Silence, Scotsman,” the Viscount snarled. “You hear how he would speak to a Lady of Her Majesty’s Realm, men? What more reason do you need to attack? To arms!”
“He would speak to a spy, erroneously sent to cause war by the whispers of a corrupt Viscount!” Magnolia interrupted fiercely. To Nathair, she seemed to glow in the sunlight, and her tiredness and the filth of travel only made her more beautiful.
Ye came back. Ye came to make it right.
While Nathair stared at her incredulously, the sound of horse hooves echoed eerily through the suddenly too-quiet battlefield. As one, all five hundred men turned their heads to see an older gentleman riding slowly towards them, leading another, clearly tired, horse by the reins.
Magnolia continued addressing the English soldiers. “You see my Father's approach. Pay your respects to Lord Daniel Winterbourne, Earl of Elfinstone, and remember to whom you have sworn allegiance.”
More muttering broke out between the English army, while the Scotsmen, too, were clearly baffled by the turn the events had taken.
“Well,” William muttered, “Yer lass has a unique way o’ apologisin’.” He lowered his claymore but did not sheathe it, not yet.
Nathair said nothing, though he was relieved when both the English and the Scottish armies seemed to step back as one, as though there was a field of energy around Magnolia while her father rode to her side.
Lord Winterbourne dismounted, and Nathair nodded at one of the lads in line behind him–his own stable boy. The lad was surprised, but he hurried forward, taking both horses by the reins and leading them off to the side.
Is this really happenin’? Are we really saved?
“Winterbourne, what in the world are you doing here?” the Viscount demanded, the illusion of concern written all over his face. “Such a ride cannot be good for your health, especially at such an age!”
“You will address me asLordWinterbourne, Peter,” the Earl told him coldly, placing emphasis on the deliberate dropping of the Viscount’s title.
Swift calculation worked through the Viscount’s eyes while Nathair watched, and even Nathair had to be impressed by how quickly the slimy man changed tracks.
“Of course, My Lord,” the Viscount said, giving a deep bow. “I simply wondered why you had rushed all this way. Surely not on the word of this hysterical girl? You saw what she wrote to us. If she has changed her mind now, then it is only due to Scottish brainwashing. You know how these Scotsmen—”
Lord Winterbourne ignored him completely, instead slowly turning and facing Nathair and William, no weapon in hand. This man was clearly as exhausted as his daughter. Still, he held a proud bearing that Nathair found he instantly respected.
He reminds me o’ me own Faither. This is a good man, even if we arenae always on the same side.
“Lord Winterbourne,” Nathair said. He nudged William, who was staring, open-mouthed, and William quickly gave Winterbourne a short but respectful nod.
The Earl studied both of them for a moment, then his face relaxed into a smile that was heartbreakingly like that of his daughter. “Yes, that is me,” he agreed. “And you are Nathair Irvine, Laird of MacFoihl. I met you when you were a boy.”
Nathair bowed his head. “Aye, ye did at that,” he agreed. “I’d near forgotten it until, well…”
“Yes. Rather unfortunate business all of this, isn’t it? My daughter has explained, and it appears there’s been some sort of miscommunication.” As he said this, Lord Winterbourne’s eyes narrowed, glancing over his shoulder back towards where the Viscount stood.
The Viscount looked thoroughly outraged. “My Lord! You would take the word of a Scotsman over my own?!”
“I would trust the word of my daughter over anyone else’s,” Lord Winterbourne retorted sharply. “And you would do well to do the same, Peter. In the absence of my wife, Magnolia has been Lady Elfinstone not only by heritage but by action. She outranks you, and youwillshow her the respect her title earns.”
