Page 90 of The Highlander's Alluring Spy
Magnolia. Magnolia. Magnolia.
The pins came loose and her hair tangled in his hands as he pulled her closer, needing more of her, all of her.
He could feel the moment the rush began, and he knew there was no holding it back. “Magnolia,” he grunted. “I’m—I—”
She didn’t react other than a muffled sound that may have been a laugh and just kept going, more and more until he could not stand it anymore.
His heartbeat was erratic, and then suddenly, he could barely feel it at all. There was ringing in his ears as the pleasure started from his groin and shot up his spine and into his limbs, making everything tingle with satisfaction as the release came. Magnolia held him, making little sounds of her own pleasure as she witnessed his.
Nathair’s head fell forward when he was done. When he blinked back to reality, Magnolia was still kneeling at his feet, an exceptionally pleased grin on her face.
“Well, My Laird?” she asked innocently. “Did I serve you well?”
Nathair stared at her, gathering his breath, then held out a hand. She took it, getting to her feet, and then he pulled her close to kiss her deeply. “The thing is, Me Lady,” he whispered in her ear after. “If ye’re to be my wife, we must operate as equals.”
“Oh?” she asked, sounding like someone anticipating the greatest gift they’d ever received before. “And however shall we do such a thing, My Laird?”
“Well,” he breathed. “Ye can start by climbin’ up on that table an’ lettin’ me return the favor. By the time I’m good an’ ready again, ye’ll ken how much I love ye.”
She moved back just a little, and her eyes softened. “And I love you too,” she said. “Forever.”
Then she turned and did exactly what she was told.
It’s me own turn to be Laird, now.
26
The Resolution
Magnolia wrote to her father right away, her luckenbooth pinned proudly on her breast. She told him the truth about everything–well, most things, at least–and assured him that she was working on a solution to the undeniable new problems.
Because Magnolia Winterbourne, Lady of Elfinstone, had many things binding her to her Country and the Crown. She was her father’s only eligible heir, and more than that, she had served as a member of the Order of the Red Blossom for her entire adult life.
And what a scandal my betrayal shall be if word of my imminent betrothal is taken as a defection from my duties!
This worried Magnolia greatly. As far as she was aware, the Viscount of Mitread was in custody, awaiting trial and judgment, but he was not the only man who thought how he did. If there were other members within the Order, or even among the peerage, who took this as a slight, it could mean a war that no letter could prevent.
She had expressed such to Nathair, but he had simply smiled and told her that, if the price of her love was such, he was willing to pay it. She’d scolded him for such foolishness, of course, but they’d gotten somewhat distracted afterward.
“And you’re sure your runners can get this letter to my father as quickly as possible?” she asked William quietly that evening as they stood together in the entranceway to the castle.
“Aye, as certain as I am that I’m about to have to start calling ye ‘Me Lady’, Magnolia,” William replied, with a nod at her brooch. “Are salutations in order, then?”
Magnolia suspected he’d known all along. In fact, she quite thought he had been part of the scheme to commission the thing while Nathair was on his sickbed. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
It was funny to see how astonished he looked when she drew back, and she gave a slight chuckle. “Thank you,” she told him, “for a second chance.”
He considered her for a long, long moment, then nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Dinnae mess it up.”
And then he turned and was gone.
Magnolia smiled to herself. She had more letters to write, now; informal notes that she would send to her friends before the official announcements were made. She’d write to Lady Taylor first and thank her for the advice that had led Magnolia and Nathair both to where they were today.
She knew that Betty was meeting with her soldier sweetheart, Connor, late this evening. It may not be entirely proper, but Magnolia could hardly blame the girl. She would not betray her friend’s secret, but she would give her some notes to let her friends in the village know everything.
One for Greta and Bernie, one for someone to read to old Ewan. One for the tavern family and their daughter. And one for Betty too, and the Cook, thanking them for everything they’d done, both as servants and as friends.
I have been so lucky. Beyond all belief.
