My Highland Spy

by Victoria Roberts

  “Ye were ne’er one for subtlety, Munro.” Hastily dismissing Ian, the Gordon turned his attention to Ruairi. “I propose an alliance between our clans. The men of clans Gordon, Seton, Sutherland, and Munro will join forces with Stewart’s men. There is strength in our numbers, and we will bring the realm and those who support it to their knees. The Highland lairds will demand that the king and his laws stay out of the Highlands, and we will show him once and for all that we Highlanders donna sit upon command.”

  Ruairi gave Ian a look to keep his mouth shut. “We need time.”

  “How long?”

  “A fortnight.”

  “Ye have a sennight to give me an answer,” said the Gordon in a clipped tone.

  There was a heavy moment of silence.

  “Ye have been verra blunt with your purpose. Now I will be blunt with mine. Five of my cattle and three of Munro’s have been slaughtered on our lands. I donna need to tell ye those animals were meant to feed our people during the winter months,” said Ruairi with no inflection.

  A sparkle twinkled in the Gordon’s eye. “How verra…unfortunate.”

  “Unfortunate, aye, until we found two men encroaching on my lands last eve in an attempt to make another move on my cattle.”

  “Good for ye. I should hope ye showed them as much mercy as they showed your cattle.”

  Ruairi was about to reply to the arrogant arse when a warning voice whispered in his head. The only thing he permitted was the curse that fell from his mouth and the distrust that continued to chill his eyes. That’s why he was surprised when Ian spoke for them both.

  “One of the bastards is nay longer of this world.” Ian paused for added impact. “The other is verra much alive. Nevertheless, it seems one eve in the Sutherland’s dungeon will make any man loosen his tongue.”

  When the Gordon paled, the truth was finally revealed. Ruairi clenched his fists to keep from reaching over and killing the man who sat across from him.

  “Is there anything ye wish to say?” asked Ruairi, his accusing voice stabbing the air.

  “Why would I wish to say anything?” asked the Gordon with a vague hint of displeasure.

  “Ian, leave us for a moment and shut the door on your way out.” When the door finally closed, Ruairi’s eyes darkened with fury. “Are ye telling me ye know naught of these men?” The Gordon was about to speak when Ruairi cut off his words with a hostile glare. “Donna even think of insulting me by denying your hand in this.”

  Ruairi sat forward and continued. “I want ye to listen to me verra carefully. Ye sit here under my roof and ask me to raise arms against the Crown. Ye ask me to form an alliance, but know this… I donna take to threats, nor will I stand by and watch as my clan suffers for the likes of political gain. Ye made a grave error in judgment by killing my cattle, and your actions in nay way gained my or Munro’s trust. In truth, if ye werenae my late wife’s father, I’d run ye through right now.”

  The Gordon continued to give Ruairi a blank stare, keeping his features composed with purpose.

  “I want to hear the truth from your own mouth, but I’d think verra carefully before ye let the next words escape it. Did ye actually believe for one moment that by killing our cattle ye would force us to join ye?”

  The Gordon shrugged with indifference. “When ye think about the words I have spoken, ye will realize they serve but a higher purpose. I hope that within a sennight ye and Munro see reason. It would be most unfortunate nae to have ye join us. Besides, how many more cattle can ye and Munro afford to lose?”

  Ruairi smirked. “Make nay mistake, should your men make another attempt, we will defend what is ours.”

  “I must admit I’m rather disappointed by your response. I thought when ye wed my daughter that ye’d support our clan, but ye’ve fought my political decisions at every turn. My daughter, on the other hand, always knew her place and when to support her father. Although Anna was merely a lass, her ambition was as passionate as my own. Howbeit it seems neither one of us were verra good at convincing ye to feel the same.”

  Ruairi paused, wanting to ask the question that weighed heavily on his mind. “Do ye blame me for Anna’s death?”

  The Gordon’s eyes grew amused and his smile deepened to laughter. “Is that what ye think, Sutherland? God’s teeth, lad, I can see ye think as much.” He wiped his hand over his face and then shook his head. He sat forward and his expression lightened. There was actually a twinkle in his eye. “Tell me. Should I blame ye for my daughter’s death?”

  ***

  Ravenna spent hours in the library with Torquil. When he gave up and laid his head on the table, she realized she’d given the boy more than enough instruction for today. Frankly, she’d had enough too.

  “I think the men have forgotten about us.”

  When Torquil lifted his head, his eyes were heavy. “Done? Go?”

  “Yes. We’re finished for today. You did very well.”

  The boy didn’t hesitate and made a mad dash out of the library. She gathered her drawings and cleaned off the table. When she stood, her back cracked under protest or relief—she wasn’t quite sure which. She walked through the halls toward the bailey for some much-needed air. At least she didn’t need to worry about Angus because the beast ordinarily chased God knew what during the day, out in the woods far away from her. She felt some relief at not having to constantly look over her shoulder. But as soon as she set foot out into the courtyard, she froze at the sight before her.

  An older man with gray hair stood towering over Torquil. The man was flanked by two men, clearly not Sutherland guards. He wore a kilt of blue and green, and Ravenna suddenly realized that she needed to brush up on the tartan colors of the Highland clans.

  She quickly glanced at Ruairi and he glared at her. She was wondering what she had done wrong when Fagan approached her.

  “Did I nae tell ye to remain in the library?” he asked in an odd tone.

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you had forgotten about us.”

  Ravenna heard Fagan growl at her, but then he hastily looked away. She turned her attention back to the man in the blue and green kilt as he reached out and placed his hand on Torquil’s shoulder. Ruairi stiffened at the gesture.

  “Torquil, I havenae laid eyes upon ye for quite some time. My, how ye have grown. Ye are a strapping young lad,” said the man.

  The boy stood before him and didn’t move.

  “Do ye remember me? I am your mother’s father. I am your seanair.” Grandfather.

  When Torquil looked over his shoulder to Ruairi, Ravenna realized she was looking at Laird Gordon. What was he doing here?

  “Do ye know ye have your mother’s eyes? I can see her in your face.”

  “Torquil, take your leave with Ravenna. Your seanair was just leaving.”

  The Gordon frowned. “Truly, Sutherland. Give me but a moment with my ogha.” Grandchild. “Perhaps ye will come to visit me one day soon, eh?”

  “Torquil…now,” repeated Ruairi, his tone more commanding.

  The boy pulled away from his grandfather and approached Ravenna. She wrapped her arm around him and promptly escorted him to his chamber. When they reached the door, she ushered him in and held up her hand. “I want you to stay here until I come for you. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  Ravenna spun around and practically ran to the parapet. She may not be able to hear the men below, but she wasn’t going to miss what was happening in the bailey.

  ***

  He could have killed her.

  As if Ruairi didn’t have enough problems, the last thing he needed was a lass who didn’t know how to follow commands. He had told Fagan to have Ravenna stay in the library with Torquil until he or Fagan came to release them. And did she listen? No. He wanted his son to avoid the Gordon. The man might be Anna’s father, but he held only one purpose, and Anna and Torquil were never of concern. Why would they be now? Ruairi made a mental note to talk with his son later to ma
ke sure the boy was all right, but for right now, his main task was to get the Gordon out of here.

  “I will wait a sennight for your answer. Until then, I hope ye and Munro both have enough sense to see reason.” He lifted his head high, standing at his full height. “We are Highlanders,” he said with pride. “We do what we must.”

  “Aye, on that we agree. We do whatever it takes to protect our people—and our lands.” Ruairi’s words were meant as a warning to the Gordon, but the man merely gazed around as if he was unaffected by the remark.

  “Your stable hands leave a lot to be desired, Sutherland. It seems they are ill equipped to even bring me my mount.”

  Ian walked toward Ruairi with an arrogant grin. With a quick nod that Ruairi didn’t miss, Ian stepped to the side. Ruairi wasn’t foolish enough to start a war, but he would make sure the Gordon knew that his poor choice of judgment held consequences.

  The stable hands brought the guards their mounts, and then a path was cleared as the Gordon was brought his horse. The prisoner from the dungeon stumbled behind in order to keep up with the horse’s gait. The man’s wrists were bound with a long rope that was tied to the saddle of the Gordon’s mount. When a foul stench wafted through the air, Ian plugged his nose and Ruairi tried not to breathe. The man was covered in muck.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “Have a pleasant trip home,” said Ian.

  Ruairi approached his father-in-law and slapped him on the back in a friendly gesture. “I leave it to ye to take charge of your hired ruffian. ’Tis the least ye can do.” He lowered his voice. “And if I find another one of your men or someone ye have hired setting foot on my lands, I will nae be so merciful. I hope ye have enough sense to see reason.” He held his head high, standing tall. “’Tis exactly like ye said. We are Highlanders. We do what we must.”

  The Gordon’s expression clouded with anger. “Mount up. As the Sutherland said, we’ll take charge of this man.”

  The prisoner yelled and struggled against his bindings. “Nay! Ye send me to my death!”

  Ruairi’s voice hardened ruthlessly. “Ye were already dead the moment ye set foot on my lands.”

  ***

  If Ravenna hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she would never have believed it. She recognized the disheveled man in the bailey from the previous night. Did Ruairi actually give the man to Laird Gordon? Why? She wished she could’ve heard the conversation, but another appearance in the bailey would be too obvious.

  The dust billowed in the wind as the men rode through the gates and departed. Ravenna quickly descended the stairs from the parapet and made her way back through the halls to Torquil’s chamber. No sooner had she walked through the boy’s door than a deep voice spoke from behind her.

  “Ravenna, we will have words. Torquil…” said Ruairi, continuing to speak in Gaelic.

  The boy nodded, and Ruairi turned, pulling her along behind him. She knew better than to utter any protest because he did not look pleased. He led her to the bailey where two mounts stood ready and waiting. Wordlessly, he lifted her onto her horse and then he mounted his own.

  They rode through the bailey and turned south. As they walked their horses through the mossy fields, Ravenna glanced over her shoulder toward the trees. She couldn’t help it. She prayed the wicked wolf with the massive jaws would stay wherever he was and was thankful when he wasn’t in sight.

  She had just started to wonder where Ruairi was taking her when the sight before her suddenly made her lose all thought. They led the horses down a path that led to a white sandy beach extending as far as the eye could see. The blue waters of the ocean crashed onto the shore, and the sound of the waves was serene. She briefly closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was so enthralled at the sight before her that she didn’t realize Ruairi had dismounted.

  “Would ye like to come down now, or will ye just sit there on your mount?”

  She looked down to see Ruairi standing beside her with his hand extended. “Of course. I was admiring the view.”

  “Aye. Fagan told me ye wanted to see the beach.”

  Of course he did.

  Ruairi led her to the edge of the water and then stood silently. He definitely had something on his mind, but Ravenna decided that when he was ready to speak, he would. He finally turned to face her, but then his eyes narrowed. “When Fagan gives ye an order, he is speaking on my behalf. Ye arenae to disobey a command again. Do ye understand?”

  Her body stiffened. “Disobey a command? You cannot treat me as though I am one of your men,” she blurted out. Ravenna bit her lip before anything else came out. If he was surprised by her demeanor, he didn’t say so. At the moment, she was taken aback by her words because they almost sounded like something Grace would’ve said.

  “I must know something. Do ye think ye’ll be able to finish Torquil’s studies by a sennight?”

  She paused briefly because of the abrupt change of subject. “A sennight? Torquil is making progress, but I don’t think—”

  “Can ye make it happen? For me?”

  She gave him a compassionate smile. “What has happened?” He looked out at the sea and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Tell me. Does your request have something to do with Torquil’s grandfather paying you a visit?”

  There was a heavy moment of silence.

  “The matter isnae easy to explain. My son hasnae seen the Gordon for some time. I didnae want him to. That was why I asked ye to remain in the library. Ye should’ve listened.” She waited for him to continue. “I donna expect ye to understand.” He turned and waved her off.

  “Then explain it to me.”

  Ruairi smirked. “Lass, there is far too much to tell.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. We’re alone. I would hope that after our…” She gestured with her hand and smiled. She didn’t think she needed to finish the sentence. “You convinced me to tell you about my fear. I believe your exact words were: ‘Fear will always control you if you don’t speak upon it and face it.’ You will continue to be troubled unless you let someone share the burden. I may not have Fagan’s wise words of battle, but I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” When he still hesitated, she added, “Why don’t you tell me from the beginning? Tell me about your wife.” She had to admit that she was a little curious to see if he would tell her the truth.

  “Why would ye want to hear about Anna?”

  “Because I care.” When his eyes lit up, she quickly added, “I care what happens to your son.” She was a little unnerved when the words came out faster than she could stay them.

  He took a step forward and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “It has been a long time since I confided in a lass.”

  She smiled. “It’s been a long time since I confided in a man.”

  “Can I trust ye, Ravenna?”

  She hesitated, and for the first time since she could remember, she was uncertain how to answer.

  “God help me if I’m wrong.” He closed his eyes and paused, and then he looked at her intently. “I didnae exactly tell ye the whole truth about my wife.”

  “What do you mean?” When he hesitated, she gave him an encouraging smile. “Ruairi…”

  “Verra well. I didnae want to send Torquil to the Lowlands so I told the king my wife was ill. She did actually die, but her death was two years ago.”

  Ravenna tried to look surprised. “Why would you do that?”

  He shrugged. “I’m stubborn—the same as my father before me. My son will be a Highland laird someday. I didnae necessarily want him to learn the ways of the English.”

  “In a way, I understand how you feel.” She couldn’t imagine being told she could no longer speak English and had to embrace the Gaelic language and Highland culture. At that moment, she realized how difficult this must be for him.

  “Torquil hasnae had an easy life. His mother was a difficult woman to love and, truth be told, even to like. ’Tisnae an easy thing for me to say, but my wife despised me and
everything about me. She hated living here. When she gave birth to our son, I was foolish enough to think she’d change. But Torquil’s birth only made things worse. I could never understand how a woman could resent her own son and her own husband. Granted, Anna and I were ne’er a love match, but I think our life together fell apart even more when I managed to ruin the alliance with her clan by not siding with her father’s political aspirations.”

  Ruairi let out a heavy sigh. “But she was my wife, and she was the Gordon’s blood. The man was ne’er interested in his daughter. His only purpose was political gain.”

  “I’m sorry. I know some families aren’t as close as others. But what I don’t understand is why Laird Gordon was here now, after all this time.”

  He rolled his head from side to side and reached up to rub his neck as if it ached. “Five of my cattle have been slaughtered on my lands as well as three of Munro’s. The Gordon was responsible.”

  “Why would Laird Gordon kill your cattle?”

  “To provoke us.”

  “Provoke you? Into doing what?” When he shifted his weight, Ravenna knew there was far more to the story than he actually told or was willing to tell. “Ruairi…”

  “This isnae a conversation to be held with—”

  “An English woman?”

  “I wasnae going to say that,” he said defensively.

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Then what? You will not talk to me because I am only a lowly governess far beneath your station?”

  “Ravenna, ye are a governess who holds the king’s ear. I have already told ye too much. I could be hung for disobeying the king’s command.”

  “My report is given to one of the men in the king’s service. I do not meet with King James. When I am no longer needed, I will report back on your son’s progress. I have no intention of speaking about your wife.”

  The conversation was not flowing in the right direction. Ravenna needed to do something fast. She had to find out once and for all if Ruairi conspired against the realm, and now was the perfect opportunity to get him to trust her. She briefly closed her eyes and prayed to God that He and the man in front of her would forgive her.