My Highland Spy

by Victoria Roberts

  “Be careful where ye step, Mistress Denny.”

  “I can see that.” She wrinkled her nose at the foul smell in the air. “I have some good news. Torquil is awake.”

  John stopped and rested his arm on the top of the shovel. “Now that is verra good news indeed. He is well?”

  “He’s already asking for food.”

  John chuckled. “A Sutherland after my own heart. Be sure to wish him my best.”

  “I will. Have you seen Angus? I promised Torquil I’d bring him up to his chamber.” When a wry grin played John’s lips and his eyes twinkled with amusement, she asked, “What is it?”

  “He’s right behind ye, lass.”

  Ravenna turned around slowly and saw that the wolf’s cold eyes were close, too close. “Angus…”

  She was attempting to lift her hand when without warning the wolf’s massive paws landed on her shoulders, pushing her backward. She landed flat on her arse, as Ruairi would say, and her eyes widened when she realized her landing was a little softer than she’d imagined it would be.

  “Och, ye’ve gone and done it now, Angus. Ye’d better run off before Mistress Denny kills ye. Go on, off with ye!”

  Ravenna closed her eyes and bowed her head. She knew her predicament was indeed as bad as it seemed. As a warm, sticky substance oozed between her fingers, she cringed. The wicked wolf of the Highlands had dropped her into a pile of horse manure. She thought she heard a chuckle from behind her, and then John cleared his throat. A hand grabbed under her arm and assisted her to her feet. When John pulled her up, muck was caked on the back of her dress.

  “That wolf drives me completely mad,” she said through clenched teeth. She flung the manure from her fingertips, only to throw spots of it on her dress again. “Ugh!” She held out her hands, shaking them in frustration. “And to think I tried to nurse that beast back to health.”

  “Now, lass, Angus didnae toss ye into the heap on purpose.”

  “Angus is going to be the death of me yet.” She gave John a steely gaze when he chuckled.

  “My apologies, Mistress Denny. ’Tisnae every day I get to see a governess thrown into a pile of horse sh…er, manure.”

  “I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she said dryly.

  “Why donna ye go and get yourself cleaned up, and I will take Angus to Torquil for ye.”

  She nodded. “I think that would be best.”

  ***

  “’Tis about time ye woke up, lad. I was beginning to think ye were going to sleep away your days.”

  “’Tis good to see ye, Fagan,” said Torquil quietly.

  He raised a cup to his lips and guzzled down the contents.

  “Slow down. Ye need to take it easy,” said Ruairi.

  Torquil nodded and then took a bite of oatcake. There was a knock on the door, and as soon as it cracked open, Angus pushed his nose through and darted to Torquil’s side. Two big paws sprung onto the bed and his son encircled the animal with his arms.

  “Angus!”

  The wolf placed his head on Torquil’s shoulder, almost as if Angus understood how to give the boy a hug. Ruairi’s thought was interrupted and he couldn’t help but smile when Angus’s animal instincts took over. His jaws discreetly turned to the side and he hastily stole the piece of bread on Torquil’s tray. Once he’d snatched the food, the wolf tried to move undetected to the corner of the room.

  “Da, he ate my bread!”

  “Angus is happy to see ye, but he saw the food and couldnae resist.”

  John cleared his throat. “I’m glad ye’re awake, laddie.” He gave Ruairi a slight nod. “He looks well.”

  “He will be.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. If ye’ll excuse me, I must be getting back to my duties, my laird,” said John.

  “Where is Mistress Denny? I thought she was going to bring Angus herself.”

  John tried unsuccessfully to mask a smile. His eyes watered from laughter and he brought up his sleeve to wipe them, turning slightly away from Ruairi. When the man laughed, he looked ten years younger. “Ye see, my laird, Angus leaped on Mistress Denny and pushed her down into a pile of horse manure.”

  When a couple of Ruairi’s men passed in front of Torquil’s door carrying a tub, Ruairi stared at John and then turned to Fagan as the men burst out laughing. Fagan threw back his head, slapping his hands on his thighs.

  “You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” asked a voice from the hall.

  Ravenna stepped into the room and the men gazed at her with wide eyes. When Angus rose and attempted to move toward her, she held up her hand to stay him. “Don’t. You. Dare. You wicked, wicked beast. I’ve had enough of you for one day. Sit down!”

  When Angus sat on command, Fagan murmured, “Bloody coward.”

  Ruairi approached her and studied her dress. “Your dress doesnae look too bad. If John didnae tell us, I would have ne’er even known. I only see a wee bit on the edge of your skirts.”

  “Ruairi, what is that smell?”

  Ravenna shot Fagan a murderous glance. “I am in no mood for your games, Fagan. Pray excuse me while I seek my bath.”

  She spun on her heel, and the entire length of her was caked with muck. Ruairi tried to compose himself, but he couldn’t speak for the captain of his guard or his son.

  Fagan roared with laughter and Torquil chuckled.

  “I hate men,” said Ravenna, lifting her head and trying to walk away with some amount of dignity.

  ***

  Ravenna tilted her head back and covered her face with a warm cloth. She let the soothing water lap against her skin. She’d certainly seen better days. She’d bundled up her skirts in the corner, attempting to mask the foul smell, but the ungodly stench lingered in the air. Her dress was surely ruined, as well as her pride.

  “Ye are beautiful, lass.”

  She jumped and tried to move the cloth over her breasts to hide as much skin as she possibly could.

  “There is nay need to hide yourself from me. I’ve seen ye before.”

  “That doesn’t make any difference, Ruairi. I’m not exactly comfortable having you sit there and watch me take my bath.”

  He shrugged with indifference. “Ye smell much better.”

  She balled up the wet cloth and threw it at him. He caught the material with one hand as water dripped onto his tunic. When the beastly man had the nerve to laugh, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug expression from his face.

  “I’m afraid my dress is ruined.”

  “I’ll have another made for ye,” he said quickly.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what ye meant.”

  She paid him no heed. “Was everything all right with Laird Gordon?”

  Ruairi paused. “Cotrìona has returned under her father’s roof. She will nae come back, and Torquil will nae be told of his aunt’s actions. ’Tis better for everyone that way.” He tossed her back the cloth and pulled a chair next to the tub. “There is something I’d like to say to ye.”

  She again placed the cloth over her breasts. “You can’t wait until I get out of the tub?”

  “Nay. I would rather sit and enjoy the view.” He paused with a concentrated look on his face. “I cannae thank ye for all ye’ve done for Torquil, but I think ye already know that. The time we’ve shared…together…I will ne’er forget, lass. Ye know that I care for ye. To be honest, I’ve come to realize that I care for ye quite a lot.”

  His eyes never left hers.

  “Ruairi…”

  “Let me finish what I’ve come to say. I wouldnae feel right if I didnae say this at least once. Stay with me. I donna want ye to leave.”

  Ravenna was speechless. Perhaps she had taken the meaning of Ruairi’s words out of context. She had to be mistaken because he knew she would return to England to her sisters. As he sat and stared at her with an unreadable look on his face, she returned a nervous smile. She felt the tepid water in her bath suddenly turn col
d.

  “I don’t understand.” She rose from the tub and he handed her a drying cloth. She wrapped the material around her wet skin and stepped out of the water carefully—but not because she was afraid she would slip or fall.

  “What is there to understand? I donna believe ’tis my imagination that ye’ve grown to care for Torquil.”

  She nodded.

  “And I have enjoyed the time I’ve spent with ye, and nae just in my bed.” He gave her a raking gaze. “Believe it or nae, I’ve actually come to like having ye around, even if ye are English.”

  There was something warm and enchanting in his humor, and she appreciated the gentle sparring as much as he did. But certain questions weighed heavily on her mind and she wanted—needed—the answers to them.

  She turned away from him and donned her chemise. “What about Laird Gordon?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “I donna want ye to worried about him. I donna think he will be a problem.”

  “And how can you be so sure?” When he didn’t respond, she pulled her day dress over her head and turned around to face him. “How do you know that he won’t be a problem?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “Ruairi…” She reached out and he tensed when she touched his arm. “You asked me to stay, but you don’t trust me?”

  There was a heavy moment of silence.

  “Ravenna, this would be difficult for ye to understand. In truth, I wouldnae even know where to begin. ’Tisnae easy to explain matters of politics to someone who knows naught about them.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Because I’m English or because I’m a woman?”

  He shrugged. “Both.”

  “Then try. Explain to me the politics of the Highlands.” She sat down and patted her hand on the bed. “Come and sit beside me. Start with Laird Gordon. What did he do?”

  Ruairi rubbed his hand over his brow and sat next to her. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to say anything because he just looked down at the floor. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke solemnly. “I told ye that when I wed Anna, she and her father wanted me to join their cause. What I didnae tell ye was that even back then, she wanted me to give her father men and arms to stand against the English.”

  Ravenna masked her expression. “Please go on.”

  “Life in the Highlands is so damn hard. Between the harsh winters and trying to keep my clan protected, sheltered, and fed, the last the Sutherlands needed—I needed—was a war with the English.”

  A slight smile of uncertainty played at the corner of his lips, and she nodded for him to continue.

  “The king thinks the Highland lairds are naught but a bunch of barbarians. In a way, I can see why King James thinks the way he does. What he doesnae understand is that by forcing Highlanders to speak only the king’s tongue, he is making us give up our heritage.” Ruairi shrugged. “I donna know. Mayhap the king does realize this and that was his intention all along. Nevertheless, his laws are ridiculous—sending Torquil to the Lowlands to learn the English language. God’s teeth! The lad’s nae even English. He’s a Scot.”

  He threw up his hands with disgust. “And let’s nae forget about the king forcing the Highland lairds to appear in Edinburgh every year just because he commands it so.” Ruairi smirked, his eyes narrowed, and his expression clouded with anger. “Attempt to leash a wild dog and ye’re going to get bitten.”

  Ravenna raised a brow and Ruairi shook his head as if he realized he’d wandered far from the path of the conversation.

  “As I said, I refused the Gordon’s request to raise arms against the English, and the man’s resented me for it ever since.”

  “I understand that much, but you said you didn’t think Laird Gordon would be a problem. I can’t see how he won’t be now,” she said dryly. When he hesitated, Ravenna added, “You’ve shared this much with me.”

  “’Tisnae that. I just have a feeling ye’re nae going to like what I have to say.”

  “Ruairi, you’re one of the kindest men I know. I assure you that I won’t think poorly of you. How could I?” When she realized the words she had spoken were how she truly felt in her heart, she quickly lowered her gaze.

  “The Gordon attempts to raise arms against the Crown in Orkney. He thinks that by seizing the Palace of Birsay, then Kirkwall Castle and St. Magnus Cathedral, he will restore justice to Orkney once and for all.”

  “But surely he doesn’t have enough men.”

  “He has the help of the Seton clan, and he has asked Munro and me to join forces with Stewart’s men.”

  “Stewart?”

  “Aye, Robert Stewart.”

  The Earl of Orkney’s son.

  Ravenna spoke hesitantly. “Mmm…I imagine Cotrìona and her father are rather unhappy that you and Laird Munro won’t be aiding them. What will you do if Laird Gordon reciprocates the gesture and not in kind?”

  “Kill him.”

  ***

  When Ravenna’s jaw dropped, Ruairi knew she didn’t understand. There was no way an English lass—let alone a woman—would be able to fathom what he and Ian intended to do if another one of the bastards set foot on their lands. Freskin de Moravia had cleared the Norse from Scotland in his time, and Ruairi would follow in his ancestor’s footsteps. Whether that meant protecting his clan from the invading English or the neighboring clans, Ruairi was determined to rid his lands of any vermin that encroached on them. The unwelcome tension stretched even tighter between him and Ravenna, and he hesitated in the silence that engulfed them.

  “The less ye know the better, and this doesnae involve ye.” She was about to speak, but he reached out and placed her hands in his, rubbing the tops of her fingers with his thumb. “I didnae come here to talk about the Gordon. I want to talk about us. I asked ye to stay with me.”

  There was a heavy moment of silence and he took a deep breath.

  “I ask ye to stay with me because I love ye, Ravenna Denny.”

  She stiffened as though he had struck her. “Ruairi, I wish everything was different. I really do, but we can’t refuse to acknowledge the fact that you have an entire clan to protect and I still have a family, my sisters, who need me.”

  “I’ve thought of that. Ye can bring yer sisters here.”

  She laughed. “You have no idea what you’re saying, my laird. You wouldn’t know what to do with Grace, let alone Kat and Elizabeth.”

  “We’ll figure that out, as long as we’re together. ’Tis all that matters.”

  She smiled at him and two deep lines of worry appeared between her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ruairi, but I simply cannot.”

  He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “Answer me this… Do ye love me? I will have the truth.”

  She briefly closed her eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

  “’Tis a simple response, lass. Aye or nay.”

  Her voice softened and sounded almost regretful. “My answer doesn’t matter because there is nothing we can do. I must return to England and you have many responsibilities here.”

  “If ye love me, we will find a way for ye to stay.”

  “And would ye give up your clan and come to England to be with me?”

  He snapped his mouth shut, stunned by her question. He’d never thought of it that way. “’Tisnae the same and ye know it.”

  ***

  Ravenna’s heart pounded. She stood up, surprised and now more uncertain than ever. Ruairi said he loved her—well, not exactly her. Ravenna Denny, not Lady Ravenna Walsingham. When she heard his words, she felt a tremendous amount of guilt for deceiving him. She didn’t deserve a man like Laird Ruairi Sutherland, and she wasn’t ready to have this conversation because deep down, she knew she loved him, too.

  The admission came from a place beyond logic and reason. She shook her head as she realized her vow not to become involved with him had been shattered some time ago. For God’s sake, she was a spy, and he didn’t even know her true name. She had to stop this now befor
e any further damage was done. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t give him any false hope of something that could never be.

  She sat back down on the bed and faced him. “Torquil means a lot to me and so do you. I care for you both very much.” Ravenna forced herself to look him in the eye and not falter. She could do this. She had to, for both their sakes. “But I do not love you. I’m sorry that’s not the answer you wanted to hear.” For a moment, he looked surprised, and then he quickly turned away from her. His wounded expression felt like a dagger straight through her heart.

  “Can ye at least stay another fortnight? I donna want to leave Torquil unattended, especially since his head—”

  Ravenna loved the boy. How could she refuse such a request? “Of course.”

  Ruairi stood and walked to the door. He reached for the latch and hesitated. With his back to her, he spoke in a solemn voice. “I’ll be with Torquil.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “I want ye to know that nay woman has ever held my heart like ye do. Ye brought light into my life and my son’s.” He lowered his head and his voice. “I’d give ye the moon and the stars. I’d give ye anything ye’d ask of me. It doesnae matter that ye donna feel the same for me because ye’ll always be in my heart. Tha gaol agam ort, Ravenna.” I love you.

  He opened the door, and when it closed, Ravenna burst into tears.

  Twenty

  Fagan and his men rode out to the border. Ruairi had given them strict orders not to lower the guard until he felt confident things with the Gordon had settled down, not that they ever would. They couldn’t afford to be careless, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Gordon brought his wrath down on the Sutherlands. Even though a fortnight had passed since Ruairi and Ian denied the bastard, they still needed to be cautious. And Fagan didn’t have to remind Ruairi or Ian about that devil Cotrìona. Who knew what tangled web she might yet weave?

  Since everything was silent at the border, Fagan turned his mount for home. He had almost reached the castle when an approaching carriage caught his attention. The wheels stopped on the path and the driver hastily stepped down. Fagan thought he recognized the carriage, and for a moment he hesitated. A woman walked with hurried purpose around the man and made her way up the path toward the castle. The driver ran after her and grabbed her arm. She shook him off, and they became involved in a heated argument in the middle of the road.