My Highland Spy

by Victoria Roberts

  Fagan rode up and dismounted. The woman didn’t even notice that he and two of his men were there. He recognized the driver as the man who’d first brought Ravenna.

  “What are ye doing here?” asked Fagan.

  The woman spun around to face him. Her dress was the color of the sky, accented with a gold ribbon and a low neckline that only heightened the milky color of her neck. A belt around her waist defined its smallness, and her enchanting young body and wholesome good looks made him smile. Her oval face was daintily pointed, and the wind gently ruffled her brownish-gold hair. She was beautiful…and then she spoke.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked in a haughty English tone, lifting her chin. When the driver tried to speak, the woman simply talked over him. “I am here to see Lady Walsingham.”

  Fagan lifted a brow. “Who?”

  “Do not be coy with me, sir. I’ve come the whole way from Edinburgh.”

  He shook his head. “What are ye blabbering about?”

  “What?” The woman wrinkled her nose and turned to the driver. “Perhaps this man does not understand my words because I can barely understand his.” She took a step forward and looked him in the eye. “La-dy Wal-sing-ham…”

  Fagan’s eyes narrowed. “I heard ye the first time. Listen to me, bhana-phrionnsa,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Princess. “Ye have wandered verra far from home. I suggest ye turn around and be on your way because I donna know who ’tis ye seek.”

  “Pardon?”

  He rubbed his hand over his brow. “Give me strength.” He spoke slowly, patiently. “There is nay Lady Walsingham here.”

  The woman closed the gap between them and pointed her finger at his chest. He thought he heard one of his men chuckle behind him. “Now you listen to me. I’ve just made a very long journey to see my sister, and I’m not leaving until I do.” She lowered her voice. “She may be with child.”

  “I can assure ye there isnae anyone here named Lady Walsingham, let alone one who is with child,” he said with exasperation.

  She tipped her head back to look up at him and placed her hands on her hips. “I demand to speak with Laird Sutherland, and I’m not leaving here until I do.” Every curve of her body quivered with defiance.

  “Ye’re out of luck, lass, because he is rather indisposed at the moment.” Fagan regarded the woman with subtle amusement, which infuriated her even more. That’s when he decided to do the only thing that came to mind.

  He winked at her.

  Her body stiffened. “How dare you! I am a lady, and you are most definitely not a gentleman.”

  “Aye, well, I ne’er claimed to be.” He shrugged with indifference. “I suppose there is nay changing me now. Besides, ye’re a verra long way from England. We do things differently in the Highlands.” He gave her a roguish grin. “Fàilte gu Alba.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Welcome to Scotland, lass.”

  “My lady,” said the driver in a nervous tone. “Perhaps it is best if we take our leave and return at anoth—”

  “Absolutely not, George,” she scoffed. “I’m not leaving until I see Ravenna. I know she’s here. Where else could she be?”

  “Ravenna?” asked Fagan.

  The woman looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Yes, my sister.” She turned away without waiting for a reply.

  “And tell me, this Lady…Walsingham is Lady Ravenna Walsingham?”

  She looked back at him, a shadow of annoyance crossing her face. “Yes. For heaven’s sake, what is the matter with you?” Clearly dismissing him, she turned back to the driver. “Do all Highland men act this oddly?”

  The woman’s answer hammered away at Fagan, his mind refusing to comprehend the significance of her words. His thoughts darted vaguely around until he realized exactly what he had to do. “Aye, I know where your sister is.” He gestured her toward the castle. “Come, follow me and I’ll take ye to her.”

  The lass hesitated and her face clouded with uneasiness. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who she was when I asked you to begin with?”

  “Because we hadnae been properly introduced.” He gave her a slight bow. “I am Fagan Murray, captain of Laird Sutherland’s guard. Let me take ye to your sister, Lady Walsingham.”

  “Very well. George, the walk is not far. Gather the carriage and I’ll meet you in the bailey.”

  The driver looked pale and uncertain. His face was closed as if he guarded a secret, a secret that would shortly be unveiled.

  Fagan returned to the bailey with the lass and driver in tow. He led them into the great hall and gestured the woman forward. “Why donna ye have something to eat and drink while ye wait?”

  “That would be delightful. I am a bit parched.”

  He had a maid bring some food and drink. He was determined not to leave this woman’s side. Ruairi had enough troubles. Fagan would be sure to keep his friend at bay until he knew what was afoot. Moreover, he needed to see Lady Ravenna Walsingham’s eyes when she saw her sister and realized she had some serious explaining to do.

  While the uninvited company sat in the great hall, Fagan listened to the woman’s endless prattle. Although she spoke in a low tone, he could still hear every word. Meanwhile, the driver hadn’t uttered a single peep. Who knew? Perhaps he was unable to get in a word or two.

  “The castle is beautiful. Don’t you think so, George? I’m not surprised my sister has been away for so long if she’s been living like this. Our small manor house doesn’t even begin to compare. Why do you think the tapestries have nothing but swords, shields, and scenes of war, and what is that imbedded into the mantel over there? It looks like a giant cat sitting upright. I despise cats as much as Ravenna despises dogs.”

  When there was a moment of blessed silence, Fagan said a silent prayer that the rant was over. Of course he spoke too soon.

  “The Highland men and women certainly dress differently than we do, even when we’re out in the country. Why do you think the Scottish men wear those ridiculous skirts, George?”

  Enough was enough. Fagan approached the table and gave her a roguish grin. “’Tisnae a skirt, lass. If I wore something under it, then it would be called a skirt.”

  As if on cue, the woman’s face deepened to crimson and Ravenna walked into the great hall and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Her sister cleared her throat. “Hello, Ravenna.”

  “Oh, bloody hell.”

  The driver finally found his voice. “My apologies, Lady Walsingham.”

  Ravenna paled, and Fagan permitted himself a withering stare.

  ***

  “What are you doing here?” asked Ravenna as she approached the table. “Has something happened? Elizabeth and Kat?”

  Grace studied her from head to toe. “You’re not with child.”

  Ravenna found herself clenching her teeth. “I told you before and you did not listen. Are Elizabeth and Kat all right? What are you doing here?” she repeated in a tone that demanded an answer.

  “Hello to you too, Sister.” When Ravenna’s eyes narrowed, Grace waved her off. “Yes, yes, Elizabeth and Kat are fine. You were supposed to meet me in Edinburgh, remember?”

  A hand came down firmly on Ravenna’s shoulder. For a moment, she was afraid to look. She knew who that grip belonged to. What could she possibly say to the man now? She soon realized it didn’t matter because he spoke before she had the chance.

  “Lady Walsingham, would ye like to speak to your sister first or to me?” asked Fagan.

  Ravenna flinched at the tone of his voice. When she turned to look at him, the first thing she noticed was that his eyes had darkened like a summer storm. If she’d suddenly been struck by a bolt of lightning, she wouldn’t have been surprised. A warning voice whispered in her head, and she knew that she needed to handle the situation delicately.

  “Fagan, would you mind if I spoke to Grace alone?” She didn’t bother to give him a smile because he just might decide to run her through with his steely gaz
e. “Please, I promise then I will explain everything. You have my word.”

  He stood there, tall and most definitely angry. “Use Ruairi’s study because after ye’re done with your sister, we will most definitely have words.”

  She nodded. “Follow me, Grace.”

  For once in Grace’s life, her mouth was shut as Ravenna led her sister through the hall to Ruairi’s study. Too bad the damage was already done. As soon as the door closed, Grace whirled around, her eyes ablaze.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick. We received your letter that you’d meet me in Edinburgh and then not a single word from you.”

  “The laird’s son had an accident. You shouldn’t have come.”

  Grace walked casually around the study. “The girls are staying with Uncle Walter. I told George I was coming here with or without him. He made a wise choice by bringing me to you.” Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “If you are not with child, then I can only presume Uncle Walter has spent the last of our coin. What I cannot understand is why you would travel here to the Highlands, of all places, to work.”

  “Uncle Walter has not spent our coin. We have more than enough. Why can’t you ever listen to me?” she asked in exasperation.

  “Because nothing that comes from your mouth is ever the truth. How many times have you disappeared until the early hours of the morn and offered me a lame excuse as to where you have been? I even caught you, Ravenna, dressed as some kind of harlot. For God’s sake, have you no respect for yourself?”

  Praying for patience, Ravenna shook her head. “Grace…”

  “I really grow tired of you playing the martyr all the time.” Grace sat down in a chair and fingered her skirts in a nervous gesture. “I received a marriage proposal from Lord Casterbrook. Uncle Walter refuses to give his answer until he speaks with you. You don’t have to do this anymore. Come home. I will marry Lord Casterbrook and he will provide for us. I will make it so. When will you see that I’m no longer a child? You don’t need to coddle me like you’re my mother. Let me help you and our sisters. You don’t have to carry the burden alone. We are family.”

  Ravenna sat down in the chair beside Grace and sighed. “You don’t need to remind me of how old you are,” she said in a solemn tone. “You’re right. You are practically a grown woman. It’s time I treated you as one. Please understand that every choice I made, I made for our family so we could stay together. Our mother and father were taken from us far too soon, and yes, it’s now time that you know the truth.”

  Grace’s expression was bleak. “What are you talking about? You’re speaking in riddles.”

  Faltering in the silence that engulfed them, Ravenna felt sourness in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t ready to do this. She had never wanted her sister involved. The less Grace knew, the better for everyone. But now Ravenna had no choice in the matter and that irked her.

  She settled back, disappointed she was about to have this particular conversation. Added to her disappointment was a feeling of guilt for having deceived her sister, her family, her own blood. “I wish I could protect and shield you from what I’m about to say, because once you know, there is no turning back time. My words will be difficult for you to understand, but please hear me out.”

  “All right, but you’re behaving as though you’ve robbed someone,” said Grace with concern. “Whatever this is about, I’m ready to hear the truth. I’ve been ready. I believe it’s long past due.”

  “I’m a spy for the Crown.”

  Grace’s jaw dropped. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re not jesting.”

  “No.”

  There was a heavy moment of silence, and Ravenna knew her sister was torn by conflicting emotions. Welcoming the confusion her confession had caused, Ravenna took a moment to gather her thoughts. She couldn’t imagine what her sister must be feeling. A wave of apprehension swept through Ravenna and gnawed at her confidence, especially when she noticed the troubled look on Grace’s face. Her sister was always quick to speak her mind, and Ravenna couldn’t help but notice that her sister had yet to speak a single word. When Grace finally spoke again, her tone was far from pleasant.

  “We’re family. How could you not tell me? How could you keep this secret from us?” She crossed her arms and pointedly looked away. When Ravenna didn’t answer, Grace’s voice became quiet and held an undertone of cold contempt. “All this time…What do you think Father and Mother would say? What about Uncle Walter? He is supposed to be our protector.” Grace turned as Ravenna lifted her brow and gave her sister a knowing look. “Dear God, they know.”

  Ravenna nodded. “Father was a spy for Queen Elizabeth, and Uncle Walter has always worked for the Crown.”

  “And you never thought this was important enough to mention before?”

  “The less you knew—anyone knew—the better for everyone involved.”

  Grace stood and a suggestion of annoyance hovered in her eyes. Her accusing gaze was riveted on Ravenna. She thought Grace might have even snarled at her. “This whole time I’ve been concerned about you, thinking you’re selling yourself, and it turns out you’re a bloody spy.” Grace frowned.

  “You’re doing goodness knows what, making our world a better place, while all I’ve been worried about is having the perfect gown and looking my best to find a husband. I’ve spent weeks asking myself: What if no one offers for my hand? What if I grow old and become a spinster like Ravenna? Now I find myself willing to give about anything just to be you. I can’t imagine the political intrigue, the excitement and adventures you must have.”

  The conversation had taken such a dramatic turn that an alarm sounded in Ravenna’s mind. She held up her hand to stay her sister’s wild misconceptions before the situation was even further out of control. “Wait a moment. You need to understand that what I do is very dangerous and is not to be taken lightly. This is no life for anyone. There are many sacrifices that I’ve made and still continue to make, all for the sake of Crown and country.”

  Grace knelt before Ravenna and took her hand. “You must teach me. You must talk to whomever you need to talk to. I want to do this. I want to serve His Majesty. Give me a purpose. Please.”

  Ravenna shook her head, shocked. “You have no idea what you’re asking. My answer is no. Father wanted nothing but the best for us. He wanted you and the girls to have an ordinary life. I will not allow you to throw yours away. If you want to wed Lord Casterbrook, marry him and start a family of your own. Working for the Crown is a lonely, solitary life. No matter what, you always end up hurting good people that you had never meant to hurt.”

  “My life is not for you to decide. You are not my mother or father.”

  Ravenna stood. “No, I’m not. Nevertheless, I am the only one who knows what’s best for you, Grace. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but your little trip to the Highlands has placed me in a very dangerous situation. The clan knows me as Mistress Denny, governess to Laird Sutherland’s son. I am no English lady, especially not Lady Ravenna Walsingham.”

  “Oh, my God. What have I done? What are we going to do? Why were you sent here to be a governess? Are you spying on that laird?”

  “Ruairi is a good and honorable man.”

  Her sister’s eyes widened and she stood. “Ruairi? You call the laird by his Christian name? His captain is right. They certainly do things differently in the Highlands. God help us, Ravenna. That Murray man heard George and me call you Lady Ravenna Walsingham. I’m so sorry. What are we going to do?”

  “You aren’t going to do anything. I don’t want you involved in this. Do you hear me?”

  “I understand, but you’re going to have to tell him something he’d truly believe since you certainly can’t say, ‘Although I was sent here by His Majesty to be a governess to Laird Sutherland’s son, Mistress Denny is not my name. My true name is actually Lady Ravenna Walsingham and I’m a spy for the Crown.’ What do you think he’d accept as true?”

  The door swung open and Fagan stoo
d there perfectly still. He looked as though he could’ve killed them both. “Donna worry upon it because I will only accept the truth, and I just heard it.”

  Seeing that Fagan’s face was contorted with shock and anger, Grace moved without hesitation, placing herself between him and Ravenna. Grace lifted her fingers to his chest, and her hand looked small against his massive frame. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you stay away from my sister.”

  His eyes never left Ravenna’s. “And which sister would that be? Mistress Denny or Lady Walsingham?”

  “Grace, leave him be.”

  Ignoring Ravenna, Grace stood her ground and refused to budge. “You know very well they are one and the same.” She nodded her head toward Ravenna. “Gather your things and we will leave.” When Fagan took a step forward, Grace renewed her hand on his chest. “You’ll have to get past first,” she warned.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “That will nae be a problem.” He grabbed Grace by her arms, lifted her from her feet, and moved her to the side.

  “Unhand me at once, you big brute!” When he released her, she kicked him in the shin with her boot. The man didn’t even flinch.

  “Grace, enough!”

  When Fagan moved farther into the study, Grace hastily pulled on his arm. “I’m warning you, Highlander, take a step closer to my sister and it will be your last,” she said firmly.

  Fagan paused and looked down at Grace’s restraining grip. “And if ye know what’s good for ye, ye’d remove your hand from my arm.” His angry gaze swung over her, and she swallowed hard, lifted her chin, and boldly met his eyes.

  “Grace, please stop this.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” spat Grace. “I don’t care if you’re the bloody laird himself. You’re not getting any closer to my sister or touching a single hair on her head. Do you hear me?”