Page 83 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
And then she turned her back on him once more and started to read aloud. “For the grand honorable gentlemen of the gathering to which I have forsworn my penmanship…
As she read, a hush seemed to fall over the entire battlefield, Scotsmen and Englishmen alike letting their swords slack as they listened. Her voice was like a melody, like the kind of music that bypassed the ears and went straight to the soul.
Nathair had read the letters already, of course, but he was as spellbound as the rest. When she got to the part about how poor they were, and how she entreated the Englishmen not to attack, angry words started on the English side of the field.
“But that’s not what was in the letter we were shown!” one of the generals hissed furiously to another.
“The Viscount forged the Lady’s letter!” a soldier snarled.
Magnolia ignored it all and continued to read. When she had finished reading the letter, it was to dead silence.
“Preposterous!” the Viscount sputtered. “She could have written that at any time. The Scotsman has gotten into her head, he has manipulated her and her womanly weakness, he—”
“And me, Peter?” Lord Winterbourne asked coldly. “Has he manipulated me? Or is it you, sir, who have manipulated these good men?”
Magnolia glared at the Viscount. “You have twisted my words. You have betrayed our Queen and Country in a folly while you play at a coup. You should be ashamed!”
The Viscount was practically spitting in his anger. “Men! You follow me! Attack now, or—”
“We follow the Crown, and if the Earl and his daughter speak true, you are a traitor of the highest order,” snapped one of the men holding his shoulder. “What should we do with him, My Lady?”
Magnolia looked surprised to be asked, but she composed herself quickly. “Take him into custody,” she said clearly and calmly. “He will be given trial at Court for his crimes and dealt with at Her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Yes, My Lady,” one of them said.
Lord Winterbourne nodded his approval, and Nathair felt a strange surge of pride. “There will be no battle today,” Lord Winterbourne announced. “Please accept the apologies of my House and my Country.”
“Aye,” Nathair said, his eyes still on Magnolia. “Go in peace wi’ yer men, Me Lord.”
And will ye take Magnolia wi’ ye, too?
“Magnolia,” he called.
She turned to look at him. “Nathair.”
He took a few steps forward, not knowing what he’d say, not knowing what he’d do, just knowing he needed her in his arms.
Perhaps because he was watching her closest, he was the only one who saw. When Lord Winterbourne spoke quietly to a general to arrange custody of the Viscount and Magnolia’s attention was on Nathair, the Viscount snarled as something inside him seemed to snap.
“No! I will succeed!” the Viscount roared. He jabbed hard with his elbows at the men holding him, both of whom doubled over in surprised pain. He rushed at Magnolia. Nathair saw the glint of the dagger in his hand.
He didn’t think. He just pulled up his sword and ran.
There was a lot of shouting, confusion, swearing, and then he was at Magnolia’s side, and the dagger plunged down while Nathair blindly slashed his sword in the Viscount’s direction.
Pain, blood, screaming.
Then nothing but blackness.
24
The Moment
“His eyes are openin’!” Betty called, and Magnolia hurried to the Laird’s side as he groaned and moved for the first time in almost a day.
“Wha’—Magnolia, where—” Nathair grumbled. He tried to move, but winced, reaching for his head. “Wha’ happened?”
“Shh,” Magnolia told him, gently pushing down on his shoulder to make him lie down again. “Shh. You hit your head when you fell after the Viscount got you in the arm with the dagger. You saved my life, Nathair.”
