Highland Temptations: Boxed Set: Books 1-3
Page 57
“Perhaps it is time ye considered settling into life as I have,” Clyde suggested gently. “A man has only so many years in the saddle before it is necessary to find another way of living.”
It was not meant in any way as a slight or a suggestion of unfitness, but his old friend took it as such. This did not come as a surprise. While Clyde knew how his suggestion would be received, he felt it necessary to offer as a concerned friend.
Douglas’s eyes burned with a familiar glow. “Are ye trying to tell me ye believe I am too old to do my duty?”
Clyde shook his head. “To the contrary. I am only concerned for your well-being.”
“If ye were so concerned for my well-being, you might have—”
Clyde held his tongue, watching as Douglas’s face reddened. He knew he’d gone too far and regretted the words before the sound of them died away in the otherwise silent room.
“I might have returned after taking leave to be with my family?” Clyde prompted, unwilling to let the matter rest. “I believed that was behind us.”
Douglas stammered, flustered. “Of course, man, of course. I spoke out of turn, and I should not be upset, either. It was damned stupid of me.”
Clyde would not argue the point.
“Has it truly been difficult for ye, then?” he asked, changing the subject a bit so as to avoid going further into the memories of that terrible time.
“Nay, not truly so terrible. I spoke out of turn, and that is a fact. Besides, I did not come here today to bring up such matters.”
“I hope ye do not think me rude or untoward, but why did ye come? What brings ye all this way?”
Douglas leaned forward, forearms on his knees. His eyes still glowed as they had, only this time it was with an excited light. Thrilled, even.
Clyde was familiar with this, as well. And he knew he might be in trouble.
“I ought not to be sharing this openly, where anyone might overhear, but I imagine ye could never make yer home with English sympathizers.”
He spit on the floor in response. He knew it was not necessary to offer anything more than that.
Douglas nodded his approval. “Good enough. I received word some time ago that Prince Charlie wishes to reclaim his castles throughout the countryside, the ones those English bastards took and claimed for their own.”
Clyde’s heart betrayed him, beating faster at the mere mention of such a thing. He wanted no part of it, truly. That season of his life was long since passed. But it did thrill him to think of those castles returning to their rightful owner.
After all, it had been up to Bonnie Prince Charlie’s forces and the Highland Guard to protect those castles. A task in which both parties had failed.
Once he calmed the tremor running through him, he nodded in approval. “I am glad to hear it. He ought to take back what was stolen from him, just as any man should he find himself in that position.”
“We are in agreement, then. Though I knew we would be.”
“However.” Clyde held up one hand, which he knew would have completely engulfed the other’s face if he chose to do so. “I am no longer the man I once was. We both know this. I want no part of the fighting, and ye know why.”
“Please, allow me to finish. Surely, ye do not believe me so daft and uncaring as to ask you to fight, knowing everything you have suffered?”
Clyde shrugged. “When men are eager to have done what they need done, they might resort to any number of actions.”
“Still, I would think ye know me better than that by now.” Even so, Douglas turned his tam o’shanter around and around his hands. A nervous gesture. “I do not need ye to fight, man. I need you to train fighters.”
“I want nothing to do with that, either.”
“Not even if those fighters are women?”
Never would Clyde have imagined this, and his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment before laughter burst from him. Truly, he had not laughed so heartily in far too long. By the time he finished, he had to wipe tears of mirth from his cheeks with the edge of his tunic sleeve.
But Douglas was not laughing, and he never had been.
Clyde stared at him, aghast. “Ye are serious, then.”
“Very serious. There is a group of women in an old convent who are at this moment training as spies and assassins, planning to infiltrate English court.”
“To what purpose? Do not tell me anyone thinks women would be of service in times such as this.”
“Aye, they do. And you might be surprised, truly, what a woman can manage in such a situation.” The corner of his mouth twisted upward in a knowing smirk. “After all, you only just laughed yourself sick at the notion. Too many do not take these women seriously, and they come to regret it. That is, if they live long enough for regret.”
Once again, Clyde found his mouth hanging open. “They have already begun their work?”
“Aye, from what I understand more than one who’ve been trained have already practiced their skills, with great success. No one suspects a beautiful young woman of harboring dangerous intentions.” Then he chuckled. “At least, not those sorts of intentions.”
Clyde caught his meaning and chuckled along with him, but he was troubled. “How in the world would I ever train these lasses? And why, if the training they’ve already had is successful?”
“Ye see, it is one thing to know which poison to use in which situation, but another entirely to know how to defend oneself when the need should arise. The chances of none of these young assassins finding themselves in a situation calling for hand-to-hand combat are slim, at best. They must know how to defend themselves as well, and ye are the best man I’ve ever known when it comes to using yer fists or a blade.”
Clyde shook his head, waving his hands. “I have already told ye—”
“And I am telling ye, man. These young lassies need your help. Do you not wish to prepare them as best you could before they go off to fight on behalf of the crown? We both know why ye did not return to the Guard, and none have ever been more entitled to their peace. But it has been five years, and I believe enough time has passed that ye might put some of that behind ye and return to service which we both know ye loved so well.”
Clyde bristled at all of this. Especially at the truth in his friend’s observations. He had his reasons for what would have been referred to as desertion were the situation different, but years had passed, and he could no longer in good conscience use that terrible time as an escape from the realities of life.
But lasses? If anything, it was an insult to believe a man of his skill and experience would be satisfied to train a group of women. What would they think of next?
He shook his head, waving his hands again. “Nay, I canna do it. Though it does please me quite a great deal to know ye thought of me, and I am never unhappy to see ye. But I canna do what ye need.”
Douglas sat back, lips pursed, brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression.
Clyde knew this meant there was one last thing he’d saved.
“What is it, then?” he prompted, his patience growing thinner by the moment.
His old friend blew out a long sigh. “Mary is one of them.”
I hope you enjoyed A Highlander’s Reiver!
For more Aileen Adams works, click here!
Sign up for the newsletter to be notified of new releases.
Click on link for
Newsletter
or put this in your browser window:
mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/o3j5x0
Copyright © 2018 by Aileen Adams
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
&n
bsp;