My Highland Spy

by Victoria Roberts

  “She would like a tour of your home. Will she teach Torquil in the library?” asked Fagan in Gaelic.

  “Aye. I will take her after we sup.”

  Fagan’s eyes grew openly amused. “Must I come along to translate?”

  “I think I can manage,” Ruairi said, annoyed.

  Fagan smiled at the lass. “My laird will escort ye and show ye his home after we sup.”

  Ruairi didn’t like the way her face lit up when Fagan—his captain under his command—spoke to her.

  “That would be delightf—”

  “Ravenna, I want to come, too,” said Torquil in Gaelic.

  Ruairi’s brow rose when he heard Mistress Denny’s Christian name spoken from his son’s lips. “Torquil…”

  Her gaze became puzzled at the sight of Ruairi’s displeasure, and the lass placed her hand over her heart. She leaned forward in the chair. “Fagan, is the laird upset because Torquil called me Ravenna?”

  “Aye.”

  “Please tell Laird Sutherland that I asked the boy to call me by my given name because it was much easier on his tongue. And if it suits the two of you, you may both call me Ravenna as well.”

  Fagan turned up his smile a notch. “Ravenna…a verra bonny name for a verra bonny lass. The name suits ye.”

  Ruairi scowled. What the hell did Fagan think he was doing? Was he actually trying to woo the lass? God’s teeth! The chit was English, a sworn enemy. Ruairi was perfectly aware that he shouldn’t have been so aloof toward her. After all, she would report back to the king. But hell, he wasn’t about to woo the lass in the middle of the great hall. When he gave his captain another dark look, Fagan only lifted a brow and then had the audacity to smirk. The man would pay for that one later.

  For the remainder of the meal, Ruairi sat and listened while the woman laughed at Fagan’s jesting, cast smiles at Fagan, and asked him questions about Ruairi’s home. Clearly, Ruairi couldn’t answer, so his only option was to sit mute. Perhaps this wasn’t one of his most brilliant ideas. Mistress Denny must think him daft. He took another drink from his tankard and tried to think of all the ways to kill the captain of his guard.

  Her gentle laugh tinkled through the air. Her nearness was overpowering, but it had been quite a long time since he had shared his bed with a woman. When visions suddenly appeared of the sultry temptress lying beneath him, a cynical inner voice cut through his thoughts. He hated when his cock ruled his mind.

  Ruairi brought his tankard to his lips and took another big gulp, quickly realizing he needed something much stronger than what was in his cup.

  ***

  Ravenna was by no means blind to Laird Sutherland’s attraction. Her instinctive response to him was powerful, but she mentally took a step back. What was she thinking? What had she become? And what kind of man made her mind race with purely wicked thoughts? He had recently lost his wife. Furthermore, since he didn’t speak English, she was forced to obtain information elsewhere.

  She deliberately switched her attention to Fagan. If anyone would know what was afoot, it should be him. He was, after all, the captain of Sutherland’s guard. She didn’t like the thought of using her feminine wiles against him, especially since she unexpectedly favored the rugged, dangerous looks of the handsome laird who sat beside her. But she needed to be home where she belonged. Who knew what mischief her sisters were up to? Grace in particular.

  When Laird Sutherland abruptly stood, Ravenna presumed the meal was over. She thanked Fagan for his hospitality and followed the laird. His kilt rode low on his lean hips, and the movement of the muscles under his tunic quickened her pulse. He appeared to fill out the material quite nicely.

  She continued to follow him, not minding the view at all, as he led her from the library to the kitchens and then to the ladies’ solar without speaking a word. He gestured with his hand, and when they reached the end of the hall, he opened a door and they walked out into the fresh air of the gardens.

  The last of the summer blooms lined the path. Yellow and red flowers led to a waist-high stone wall where the laird had stopped and was waiting for her. She walked up beside him and looked over the wall. The white waves of the ocean crashed below on jagged rocks. She inhaled the fresh saltwater air and closed her eyes, letting the breeze comb through her loose tendrils.

  When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. He shifted his weight and stood so close that a piece of his long hair whipped her cheek. She could easily drown in the depths of his emerald eyes. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe and caught the smell of his spicy scent as it wafted through the air.

  For a brief moment, Ravenna forgot who she was and what she was sent there to do. It was as if something intense passed between them, making her tingle in the pit of her stomach. No man had ever looked at her that way.

  What was the matter with her?

  The man had enough burdens. He was mourning the loss of his wife and now had to raise his son alone. And here she was acting like some silly chit floundering over the man’s good looks.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s quite unfortunate that you do not speak English.” When she saw a slight hesitation in his hawk-like eyes, she added, “Praise the saints. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You stand there, so handsome, sporting your kilt. Frankly, I don’t remember any of my other assignments being quite so…desirable.”

  The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes startled her.

  “Ye are my son’s governess, but I would take ye verra willingly to my bed.”

  Ravenna paled.

  Three

  Ruairi couldn’t say what surprised him more—the fact that Mistress Denny so blatantly approved of his handsome visage or the look on her face when she realized he understood every word she said. He had a feeling he’d remember that particular moment for a very long time. It wasn’t often he found a lass who spoke her mind. As her jaw continued to tremble and she quickly averted her eyes, he found that her discomfiture amused him.

  He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Ye already said the words, lass. Why is it that ye can nay longer look me in the eye?”

  “Because I presumed you didn’t understand English. This whole time you did. Why would you do that?” He was about to speak when she silenced him with a glare. “Let me make something perfectly clear. I am here for the sole purpose of educating your son. I assure you that I have absolutely no intention of sharing your bed.” The woman turned on her heel and walked along the stone wall without him.

  He couldn’t help it when his lips lifted into a roguish grin. “We’ll have to see about that,” he said under his breath.

  When she reached the outer wall, she stopped and stretched her neck to see over the cliffs. Her skirts billowed behind her and her hair whipped in the wind. If she had taken flight, he wouldn’t have been surprised. She looked like an angel sent from the heavens.

  “Have a care and donna wander beyond this wall. The cliffs are dangerous. Torquil knows it’s forbidden.”

  “I can see why.” She turned to him and asked dryly, “So tell me. Does Torquil speak English as well, or does the boy truly need my assistance?”

  “My son doesnae speak English.”

  “Did his mother?” As soon as she said the words, she reached out and touched his arm. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Nay, my wife didnae speak English.”

  She nodded. “I will begin Torquil’s studies on the morrow in the library, if that suits you. During this time, may I suggest that English is spoken in front of your son so that the words we speak are not so foreign to his ears? I believe that the more he hears it, the easier the language will be for him to grasp.”

  “Whatever ye think is best. The faster my son learns the ways of the English, the faster ye can depart.” When her eyes widened, Ruairi realized his words came out harsher than he had meant them to. But to his surprise, her expression only lightened.

  “I understand this is a difficult time for you. I will try my very
best to see that Torquil takes to his studies. I’m sure that with the sudden passing of your dear wife, you have enough worries.”

  The woman had no idea.

  ***

  Ravenna closed the door to her bedchamber and started to pace. She slapped her hand to her head and growled. “What are you doing, Ravenna? You are never this careless.” She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow. “You actually told the man you didn’t remember any of your other assignments being quite so desirable. Are you completely mad?”

  When she paused to hear herself answer, she thought she might be. She couldn’t afford to be so reckless. Perhaps she was weary from the long journey and needed to rest. Things had to look brighter in the morning. They always did.

  She donned her nightrail and climbed into bed. With one last look around her modest chamber, she blew out the candle and brushed the loose tendrils away from her face. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, closed her eyes, and let out a loud sigh.

  A brutal ending to a less-than-perfect day.

  When Ravenna rose in the morning, she felt a bit more refreshed than she had the evening before. Praise the saints for small favors. She needed to have her wits about her and knew she shouldn’t dwell on her own stupidity. She dressed quickly and went straight to the courtyard, where George and Mary were ready to depart.

  “Is everything all right, m’lady?” asked George. “You’re certain you don’t want us to remain?”

  “No, George. It would look far too suspicious. I am supposed to be a governess, of all things. Please tell my uncle everything is fine. I shall contact him at once, should I discover anything.”

  He nodded and gave her a slight bow. “As you wish, Lady Walsingham.”

  She placed her hand on his arm and he stilled. “And George. Please make certain Uncle Walter…”

  “Of course, m’lady. Rest assured the ladies are in good hands.”

  Ravenna nodded her thanks and turned to find Laird Sutherland approaching her. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “Having second thoughts?” he asked. “’Tisnae too late to turn back.”

  “I’m only thanking my driver for his and his lady wife’s hospitality.”

  “Torquil has already broken his fast. Ye will find him in the stable when ye’re ready to begin his lessons.”

  “Already? I’m surprised he’s awake. It’s still rather early.”

  “Aye, well, we Highlanders donna lie in bed all day when there is work to be done.”

  She detected his barb against her English upbringing and tried to hold her tongue, but her words came out faster than she could stay them. “Tell me, Laird Sutherland. Should I expect the noon meal to still be at noon, then?”

  Ravenna pretended not to understand his scolding look and brushed passed him to the great hall. She quickly went to the kitchens and broke her fast before the man accused her of eating too slowly simply because she was English. At least the kitchen maids were kind enough to let her sit at the kitchen table, even though she was the enemy.

  When she finished her meal, she found Torquil in the stable. He was standing in one of the stalls brushing a light-colored mare and didn’t appreciate it when she led him away to begin his first lesson. The look on his face was not one of excitement, not that she blamed him.

  As they entered the library, she paused. For being this far north in the Highlands, the laird certainly had a vast array of books in his collection. And that was another misconception. She didn’t think these barbarians even knew how to pick up a book, let alone read one. Then again, what else would Laird Sutherland do in the dead of winter to occupy his thoughts?

  A large wooden table surrounded by six chairs sat in the center of the library. Two chairs were placed in front of a stone fireplace that looked like a lovely place to sit and curl up and read. One wall of the library was lined with several wooden shelves that held many books that she couldn’t wait to explore. When she spotted a tapestry of another bloody battle hung on the wall surrounded by shields and swords, she shuddered. Why the man wanted nothing but brutal scenes of war displayed on the walls of his home was beyond her comprehension.

  She pulled out a chair and sat next to Torquil at the table. She took out a piece of paper and drew a picture of the sun while he watched.

  “Sun,” she said. “Good morning.”

  His green eyes studied her intently.

  Ravenna pointed to the picture. “Good morning, Torquil.” She yawned and stretched her back.

  He slowly repeated her words and she smiled. She took the paper and drew a picture of the moon beside the sun.

  “Moon,” she said. “Good night, Torquil.” She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

  When the boy realized what she meant to convey, he nodded his head in understanding. Seeing the smile on his face made Ravenna feel saddened for him. Kat was only two years younger than Torquil, and Ravenna knew how much her sister needed and missed her mother. The loss must be devastating to him.

  Ravenna spent the next few hours drawing pictures and having Torquil repeat her words. When it was time for the noon meal, they made their way to the great hall. She had just taken her seat when Fagan and Laird Sutherland entered with a score of men. Seeing kilted warriors flow into the hall and hearing their deep masculine laughs made Ravenna feel like her breath was cut off. These men were a massive, self-confident bunch.

  Fagan sat down beside her and gave her a polite smile. “Ravenna.”

  “Fagan.”

  “Ravenna,” said another voice in a captivating Scottish accent that she tried not to think about.

  “Laird Sutherland.”

  “Och, lass. I think we are more than beyond formalities. Donna ye think? Ye will call me Ruairi.”

  When he gave her a knowing look, she felt her face turn to crimson. She lifted her tankard to her lips before another witty—or daft—remark escaped from her mental arsenal. The room was suddenly silenced as a man was escorted to the dais. He gave a slight bow as a troubled expression crossed his brow.

  “My laird. Two more have been found.”

  ***

  Ruairi stood and gave a brief nod to Fagan.

  “Pray excuse us,” said Fagan to Ravenna. They promptly escorted Calum to Ruairi’s study and closed the door.

  “Please sit.” Ruairi gestured to a chair. “Where were they found?”

  “North of the cliffs. Both of the cattle found much the same as the last, my laird. Slaughtered and left for dead. It was nay animal that killed them,” said Calum.

  Ruairi ran his hand through his hair. “Have them removed.”

  “I already gathered the remains, my laird. I came as soon as I found them.”

  “Verra good.”

  Calum looked uneasy and shifted in the chair. “And should the men still watch the border, my laird?”

  “Aye. I donna want anything in or out without me knowing it. See to it.”

  Calum rose. “Aye, my laird.”

  The door closed and Ruairi sat down in the chair with a heavy sigh. “I donna like it. That makes five of our cattle slaughtered.”

  Fagan sat on the edge of the desk. “And ye still believe ’tis your wife’s clan?”

  “Who else could it be? Even though the Gordon doesnae say as much, I know he blames me for Anna’s death. Howbeit we have nay proof and I cannae verra well accuse the man with naught before my eyes. He is clever. I give him that. Make certain the men watch the border. If ’tis Anna’s clan, I will deal with them.”

  “Ye neglected to mention,” said Fagan. “I assume since ye sit here hale that the lass didnae kill ye when ye told her ye speak the king’s tongue.”

  “She wasnae exactly thrilled,” he said dryly.

  “Ye must admit she is a fine-looking lass, Ruairi.”

  He shrugged with indifference. “There are many fine-looking lasses who arenae English.”

  Fagan waved him off. “I wouldnae hold that against her. She’s only doing as she’
s told.”

  “The woman isnae my concern. Speak English in front of Torquil. The faster he takes to his lessons, the faster she departs.”

  “Och, aye. And if I didnae know ye any better, I would say that almost sounded convincing.”

  “If ye didnae take notice, we have more pressing matters upon us.”

  Ruairi didn’t need to remind Fagan of the Highland clans who attempted to rally against the king. Nor did he have to remind his captain that the lairds barely tolerated one another, so the idea of working together to form an alliance against the realm was completely absurd. But until either came to fruition, Ruairi was determined to keep his clan as far out of harm’s way as possible. He knew his wife’s father had other ideas, but Ruairi was not a daft fool. The Gordon should not be starting trouble, especially in political matters. Men had been hung for less.

  “Let’s ride to where Calum found the cattle. If we’re lucky, mayhap there is still a trail,” said Ruairi.

  He walked out into the courtyard, and no sooner did he approach the stable with Fagan than a shrill scream rang through the air.

  ***

  Ravenna had a difficult time trying to convince Torquil to return to the library while the sun was shining. He kept shaking his head “no” and pulling her by the hand out into the garden.

  A warm breeze tickled her nose, and she stopped to brush back the hair that had fallen into her face. “All right. You win,” she said with a smile.

  Torquil didn’t need to understand her words to comprehend their meaning. His face lit up from ear to ear. Elizabeth and Kat were much the same. At times it was difficult to gather them inside on a nice day. What Ravenna wouldn’t give to be that young and innocent again.

  She sat down on a garden bench, and when she heard the sound of crashing waves, she walked to the edge of the wall. She had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised. Laird Sutherland had such a beautiful home. The gardens and paths were quite exquisite, and so was the view from this very spot. She stood silently and watched the water that rolled in and out on the sandy shore. The feeling was so serene that she didn’t want to move—until Torquil called her name.