Page 71 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
It couldn’t be.
Itcouldn’tbe.
Bile rose in Nathair’s throat as the implications threatened to drown him. Everything fell into place, like the most horrible mosaic the world had ever seen.
‘I can act the role of maid and cook as well as nanny.’
Why would a clearly upper-class young Englishwoman make her way up into the far north of Scotland just for a job?
‘Je parle un peu de Français, y é hablar un poco de Español. I also read Latin and Ancient Greek.’
How was it that a nanny was so well-educated?
‘My life before now…it was different from what I’d like you to know about.’
And she often talked, so often, of her father.
Her father. Lord Daniel Winterbourne, Earl of Elfinstone, servant of the English Crown.
“She’s a spy,” he said, and barely recognized his own voice. “She’s been a spy the whole time. She used me. She used medaughter.”
William nodded grimly. “Who kens what information she’s been feedin’ back to them. I cannae fathom what her purpose here must o’ been. So much for a time o’ peace.”
But Nathair’s mind was still whirling through the past month, highlighting every word, every touch, every breath. He searched desperately for signs and even more desperately wished he would not find them. If he had overlooked them, what happened next would be his fault.
‘I love you,’she’d told him, but that had been a lie. All of it had been a lie. All of her questions about his family and about his people. All of her ideas about visiting Laird Taylor. Everything.
The pain stabbing at his chest was sharper than a sword and twice as deadly, and it felt like he would never draw breath again. He had given everything to her. He had left the memory of his wife, and forwhat?
But how could this be true? How could Magnolia—
The book. The bloody book.
That night at the library, the first time they’d kissed. There was no innocence in her being there that night, none at all. She’d been looking for information, and now she had it. Had she passed it all on to her friends down South? Were they coming for Nathair even now? Were they coming for his daughter?
“What dae ye want me to dae about it, Nathair?” William asked grimly, and Nathair appreciated the full breadth of what his friend, his brother, was willing to do for him.
If Nathair ordered that the traitorous nanny should disappear, she would, and nobody would be any the wiser. William avoided disappearances and death where he could. Still, he never flinched when delivering justice to the enemies of his Laird.
But the idea of her death was the only thing that hurt Nathair more than the sense of her betrayal. He shied away from it. He wondered almost idly if this was how a trapped animal felt seconds before its slaughter.
“Nothin’,” he said gruffly, still in that strange voice that barely sounded like his own. “Dinnae dae anythin’, William. Let me handle it by meself. Have another drink, then go home to yer wife and bairns.”
“Are ye sure that’s a good idea?” William asked haltingly.
“It isnae an idea, Commander Candlish,” Nathair told him, pouring them both another whiskey. “It’s an order.”
* * *
He didn’t want to upset Elaine, so he stayed where he was and drank even after William left. Drunkenness would have been welcome, but it didn’t come. He felt as sober and heartbroken after four drinks as he had to begin with.
Nathair wasn’t sure how much time had passed and was surprised to note it was near Elaine’s bedtime. He’d go check on his bairn as he did every night, and then he’d go directly to Magnolia. He’d confront her about everything.
Ye old fool. Ye’re still hopin’ there’s been some mistake.
Clenching his fists so hard that the nails hurt his palms, he headed towards Elaine’s bedroom. When he got there, he found the door already part-open and heard voices coming from inside. Quietly, carefully, he edged around so he could see through the crack without being noticed.
“And then the Queen of the Faeries made a bet with her husband that she could win over him at any game they chose to play,” Magnolia read.
