The Scot's Spy

by Keira Montclair

  Joya had to ask one more question. “Will you marry someday, Dyna?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll never marry unless I find a man just like my father, an impossible feat for certes. In fact, I’m sure ’twill never happen.”

  ***

  Els entered the chamber where his grandsire slept, his father watching over him. “Where are Aunt Kyla and the others?” he whispered, not wanting to wake up the sleeping man.

  “They went down for a bite to eat. John is a little wound up, so they wanted to let him run in the dining area. We secured another chamber, and Kyla was hoping to have a tub bath. Come sit. You look quite forlorn, Els,” Da said. “And don’t worry about waking up Grandpapa. He sleeps through everything.”

  He sat down, grabbed a goblet of ale that his father offered him, and set it on a nearby chest. Although he didn’t wish to make a scene, he dropped his head into his hands. How could he explain everything he was feeling at the moment?

  “You found out who the guilty sheriff was, did you not?” Da asked. “Ending that bastard’s life cannot have made you feel so poorly.”

  “Nay, that part was a perfect end to the day. I shouldn’t have tried the other.”

  “What other?”

  “I asked Joya to marry me and she turned me down.” His heart was so heavy he didn’t think he could bear to talk about it.

  Da said, “Tell me what else you know about her. I know she has a brother, though I’m not certain how well they get along. What about her parents?”

  He told his father what he knew about her situation—her parents’ death, her aunt, and how Derric had left two years before she did. “Papa, we just fit together. We make each other laugh, and we can talk for hours. I don’t want anyone but Joya.”

  Da said, “Her refusal may not be for the reasons you think.”

  “What do you mean? I told her I love her.”

  “By her own admission, Joya has had a hard life. It may be that she has a hard time accepting love.”

  They didn’t say anything for a few moments, but then Da said, “She may just need time. She must be exhausted from everything she’s been through. Give her a chance to heal, then approach her again.”

  Everything his father had said made perfect sense. If what Joya needed was time, Els would give her all the time it took. He didn’t want to live a life without her in it.

  ***

  A sennight had passed at MacLintock Castle. They’d all settled into a comfortable pattern, and John had quickly reverted to the fun-loving, boisterous young lad he’d always been. Soon the Grant contingency would be headed home, but Jamie and Gracie had wished to stay to show support of Emmalin, just in case anyone else returned to bother them.

  Early one morning, while Emmalin and Bessie did some chores upstairs, Els and Joya sat in the hall with John and Ailith, the others at various places visiting in the courtyard or in the lists. John picked up his sword and made a sound as close to a Grant war whoop as possible for one his age. “I fight you, Uncle Els.” He ran at Els, who promptly stood and lifted the lad up over his head and twirled him about in a circle.

  “Nay, you don’t fight your uncle, you wee trickster.”

  John giggled harder and harder the more Els twirled.

  Ailith sat on Joya’s lap watching her brother’s antics, giggling along with him, her chubby arms bouncing up and down with every twirl.

  Els set John down and said, “See where you go now, Aleshander Grant.” The wee lad tried to run but tipped over laughing, getting back up quickly.

  Els roared like a monster and lifted his arms over his head. “I’m coming for Aleshander Grant? Where is he?”

  His eyes bright with excitement, John ran over to Joya. “Hide me!”

  “Close your eyes, monster,” Joya said. “You’ll never find us.” She ushered the wee laddie behind her chair, Ailith still cradled on her lap. “Here,” she said in a staged whisper, “we’ll all hide under the blanket.” With that, she tossed a plaid over all three of them. “See, he’ll never find us under here.”

  The two bairns giggled and hushed each other while they waited for Els to make a move.

  “Where did they go? I cannot find anyone.”

  The blanket shook with giggles. Joya loved to see the innocence of the two bairns, and it moved her even more to watch Els with them. This had been her favorite part of their stay at MacLintock Castle—she and Els playing with the bairns.

  A loud thump sounded as Els fell to the floor. “I cannot find them. What will I do? I guess I’ll take a nap.” Then he started snoring rather loudly.

  Joya giggled. “That sounds quite familiar.”

  “Be quiet or the monster will get you, Joya,” Els growled from the floor.

  John tossed the blanket off his head and said, “Nay, I save you, Oy.”

  That was as close as he’d ever come to saying her name and her heart swelled. John ran over to Els and leaped onto his belly, his new wooden sword raised over his head. “I save Oy.”

  The monster came to life and grabbed him, tossing him into the air and causing another fit of giggles.

  The door to the keep opened and Alasdair came inside. “Els, you’re wanted outside. Emmalin and Joya, too. Where is Em?”

  “She’s upstairs with Bessie,” Joya said.

  Emmalin came out to the balustrade and asked, “Did you need me?”

  “Aye, Grandsire wants everyone outside again. With your weapon.”

  Which meant he wished to practice with the spectral swords, something they’d spoken of doing but had not yet tried. Truthfully, Joya would prefer for Els to stay in the keep with her. For the time being, she’d had enough of battles and skirmishes.

  Els set John down and stood up, brushing his trews clear of the rushes. “Come, Joya. You’ll enjoy watching Grandsire.”

  Emmalin came down the stairs with Bessie. “Please keep Ailith inside,” she said to her maid, who took the wee lassie from Joya. “She won’t like all the yelling, though John will love it. He can come with us.”

  John’s eyes lit up even brighter than when they’d played the monster game, and he practically raced out of the keep, although he listened to his mother’s caution to wait for them.

  They gathered outside in the courtyard, Grandsire instructing everyone on where to stand.

  Els cornered his cousins for a quick conference. “Alasdair, Alick, tell Grandsire how your swords felt after we fought part of the battle. Grandpapa, we want to hear your thoughts on this.”

  “Aye, you mean the third or fourth time we swung?” Alasdair asked.

  Alick nodded. “My sword was so heavy I nearly dropped it.”

  Alex picked up on their conversation. “What are you talking about? You told me about the heating of the hilt, seeing some enemies drop their sword, but I’ve not heard about this.” His keen eyes settled on Elshander. “I wish to know everything. And why did none of you mention this before?”

  “I forgot in all the chaos. We told you most of what happened. The hilt of my sword heated,” Els explained. “And I felt as if my weapon held more power for a few swings, but then my sword became heavy. It happened after four swings, I think.”

  “Well, we still haven’t figured out the reason it worked then and not later,” Alex said, “so I wish to practice again. ’Tis not easy to get us all together. We must take advantage of the time we have.”

  No one argued with him, so he put each person where he wanted them. “Jamie against Els. Finlay with Alick. I’ll spar with Alasdair. Dyna, I want you in the middle of the circle again.”

  “But I was on the outside when it worked. Mayhap we should try that again.” She held her bow in her hand, though she hadn’t bothered with any arrows.

  Alex thought for a moment and then said, “We’ll try it both ways. Step outside for now. Emmalin,” he said, “I want you behind Alasdair.”

  Emmalin walked up close to John and after a quick whi
ff of his wee trews, she wrinkled her nose and said, “He needs a change. I’ll take him in.”

  “Nay,” Alex said, “have Bessie do it. I’d like for both you and Joya to be close by.”

  Els gave Joya a quick wink from his spot while Emmalin moved over to the door to call to Bessie. She handed John over to her, though he didn’t want to go.

  “John, do as your mother says,” Alex told him, “then you may join us.”

  “Aye. Bessie, I come back,” he said, his voice hopeful.

  “I promise, laddie,” Bessie said, finally getting him inside the door.

  “Let’s get started,” Alex said. “Spar lightly with about five strokes, see if anything happens.”

  They practiced for a while, but nothing unusual happened.

  “Joya come closer, please,” Alex said.

  She took three steps forward, and he said, “Again. Two more swings.”

  All was quiet, but then Alick said, “’Tis happening. My hilt is warm.”

  They all stopped to stare at Joya, and she didn’t quite know how to react to that. Did that mean she should stay or go? She glanced at Alex, and he said, “Stand together, the three lasses.”

  So Joya stood next to Emmalin and Dyna. The sparring continued on and off, on and off, but Alex wasn’t pleased. There was no easy lifting of the weapons, no more warming of the hilts for any of them. Nothing changed. “I can tell by the look on each of your faces ’tis just normal sparring. You feel naught?” It was a question directed at everyone in the group, and they all shook their heads in unison.

  “’Tis not strong enough. Dyna, this time, hold your bow up toward the sky.”

  They tried again, and a small rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. “Are your swords warm?” he asked, scanning the group for any reaction.

  They made several more attempts, but the power was too weak to make much of a difference. Alex encouraged them to try other combinations, but nothing changed, not even when Gracie and Kyla came out to watch.

  Bessie opened the door, holding John’s hand. “He wishes to join the group.”

  “I’ll stand over here with him,” Kyla offered, coming over to take his hand from Bessie, who turned to go back inside.

  Somehow the wee lad managed to get away and took off at a dead run toward the group of warriors and women in the middle, his wooden sword arched over his head. “I pway, too.”

  Several faces turned toward him, but no one was overly concerned. There were no true enemies outside.

  The sky lit up with lightning and the clap of thunder that followed was loud and close enough to send the three women standing together flying into the air, only to land on their bottoms. John giggled at the lightning and found his way to his great-grandfather while Joya struggled to get back up.

  “Seanair, I Aleshander Grant.” He stood next to Alex and held his wee sword over his head as he repeated the words.

  Jamie and Finlay tossed their swords down at the same time as the ground shook, more lightning and thunder raging around them. “It’s burning my hand,” Jamie shouted in the noise.

  Alex yelled, “Dyna! Control this!”

  Dyna got back on her feet and held her bow over her head. Alex, Jamie, and Finlay were all tossed into the air, landing on their backsides.

  The longer Dyna held her bow up, the more the thunder softened, but lightning continued to fork through the sky.

  In the middle of the clearing stood a wee lad, giggling as he held the hand of Alex Grant.

  “Seanair, me do yat.”

  No one spoke for a long time.

  ***

  The other night had puzzled all of them, most of all Alasdair and Emmalin, whose immediate reaction to the comment that wee John was the guiding force behind the spectral swords was sheer denial.

  Alex had said to her, “Emmalin, you cannot deny what you saw.”

  “He’s too young,” she had responded. “He will not be part of that group. I won’t put my son in danger.”

  Alex had arched a brow at his granddaughter-in-law, but he hadn’t pushed her anymore.

  Then she added, “Have you considered that mayhap you were all meant to protect John? That he has something special inside him that is needed for the next generation? You can’t know what any of it means, but he’s too young to participate.”

  That thought had given them plenty to consider. The others spoke of it here and there, but they never mentioned it again around Emmalin.

  Fortunately, not much had happened on the war front. Word was King Edward was not doing well, and the Earl of Pembroke had retreated somewhat, so they hadn’t been needed.

  Joya had spent much of that time playing with the lad, she and Els both enjoying his exuberance and spirit. She’d come belowstairs to break her fast, surprised to see so few people in the hall.

  Emmalin was there feeding Ailith, the dark-haired bairn slapping her hands together with glee at the porridge her mother fed her.

  “Where is everyone, Emmalin? It seems people are disappearing. Why, I haven’t seen Dyna around since the day before yesterday.” She did a slow promenade around the hall as if she might find someone hiding behind chairs or underneath a table.

  “John is with his sire and Els in the lists. I’ve enjoyed everyone’s visit, but all good fun ends. The Grant group is planning on heading back on the morrow. They have much packing to do, and Uncle Jamie and Uncle Finlay are speaking with the Grant warriors, too. Some will stay, some will go. They’re working on all the arrangements. How are you feeling, Joya?”

  “Much better, and many thanks to you.” She stared off at the door, thinking that the time had finally come. She had to make a decision.

  Where would she go?

  “You love him, do you not?” Emmalin asked.

  “Aye,” she said, taking a seat at the table next to Ailith. “So much so that the thought of leaving him makes my palms dampen and my heart ache.”

  “Why not travel back to Grant land and get to know more of the clan? You will enjoy it, most assuredly.”

  Tears stuck in her throat, so she just shook her head.

  “Just because you’ve lived a different life doesn’t mean they will not accept you,” Emmalin whispered.

  “But my background is so different. I’ve lived on my own for several years. I cannot imagine what they whisper about me in the royal burghs. I’m not respectable, and I don’t wish to bring that down on his clan.”

  “I think that’s his worry, not yours. If he accepts you, his clan will. Trust me.”

  Joya wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself. Would they? Would they all accept her or would they talk about her as the years carried on? As word reached them about her past—of what she had done in the name of the cause.

  The door opened and Alexander Grant stepped inside, his movements easy. He nodded to both of them and asked, “Joya, may I have a private word with you? Emmalin, I’d like to use your solar, if you don’t mind.”

  “Please do. No one is using it.” She leaned down and kissed each chubby cheek of her wee daughter, inspiring a burst of giggles from the girl.

  Joya’s gut clenched, not having any idea why this man wished to speak with her privately. Perhaps the wise old man suspected that she wasn’t worthy of Elshander’s love. Would he ask her to leave?

  She got up and trudged behind him over to the solar, trying to make a fast decision as to where she would go from here.

  Who wanted her? Only Els and Robert. So if she didn’t choose Els, her true preference, she’d have to find her way back to Robert’s camp.

  She was alone, just like she’d been ever since her parents had passed away.

  Once she was inside the door, Alex pointed to a chair and said, “Please sit.” Then he made his way over to the desk and sat down behind it, leaning back in the chair. “It finally dawned on me that I’d never told you about the strongest woman I’ve ever met, my wife, Maddie.”

  “Nay, you have not,” she said, wonder
ing why he’d brought her into the solar to talk about his wife.

  “While I knew of her inner strength, many others saw Maddie as quiet and timid.” He folded his hands across his belly and smiled, staring at the desk as he indulged in his memories. “She gave me three wonderful sons and two daughters, and we adopted a daughter who was a delight from the verra beginning. But what always struck me the most about my wife was that she accepted everyone for who they were, never for what they’d been. Even when Dyna’s mother entered our lives as someone who appeared to be a cold, calculating villainess, Maddie saw someone different, and how right she was.

  “My wife always had a powerful message for anyone we met.” He leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk. “She always said what happened in the past didn’t matter, ’tis what you do now that’s important.”

  He moved over to peer out the window, pulling the shutter aside. “Oh, and one more thing. I’d like to share something with you that none of her children or grandchildren know. It was never relevant to me, nor was it relevant to who she was as a person, but for some reason, I think it may mean something to you.” He made his way over to her, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Maddie did not have her maidenhead when I met her.”

  He exited the chamber before she could say anything. Joya whirled around in her chair and stared after the big Highlander, tears rolling down her cheek at this revelation.

  He knew. Alex Grant knew exactly what held her back from marrying Els, yet he never let on.

  The door opened again, and Gracie stepped inside, a bright smile on her face. She was such a beautiful woman that her presence alone would light up a great hall. Jamie Grant came in right behind her. “We know Els proposed to you. We also know you lost your parents before you should have.”

  Gracie held up a beautiful gown, the fabric a light green shade that reminded her of spring. Lavender ribbons had been carefully sewn into it. “Just in case you change your mind, I made this for you. Jamie proposed to me and decorated our hall with thistles, purple and green everywhere. I loved it, so I thought to make you a dress in the same colors. Wear it however you choose. ’Tis our gift to you.”

  Jamie said, “You’re always welcome in our family. If you leave on the morrow and change your mind six moons down the road, you’d still be welcome.” Gracie carefully arranged the gown across the desk so none of it touched the floor, then she gave Joya a swift hug and left with her husband.