“I still think it would be better if Fergus were aware,” his father said. “We’d find out faster if she is a spy if she were fed incorrect information that she’d want to give to her messenger.”
“We’ve already had this conversation, Da,” Niall replied.
“I agree,” Simon said unexpectedly. “The fewer people that ken what our suspicions are, the better. If she proves to be a traitor, we can claim we were nae aware.”
His father looked thoughtful. “Aye. I suppose there is that. We wouldna want to be accused of knowingly harboring a government spy.”
Simon nodded. “’Tis best, I think.”
His brother could be almost as devious as his father at times, but Niall wasn’t sure if he should be irritated with Simon’s “logic” at the moment or whether to thank him for stilling their father.
“I also want to remind ye both that ye are on a fishing expedition here,” Niall said. “Charlotte has told us she is running away from a marriage she doesna want. ’Tis common enough. Why should we nae believe her?”
“She could be trying to gain sympathy,” his father answered. “Women are like that. Unscrupulous.”
Niall would have laughed at the irony of his father saying that, but he was too annoyed. “Charlotte has told us she is a Campbell. Why would she do that if she were a spy?”
“Could be another ploy.” His father shrugged. “Sometimes, the best thing to do is use the truth to deceive or divert the enemy.”
Well, the Fox would know, although Niall did not think Charlotte was an enemy, especially after that kiss.
However, perhaps it would be best not to tell his father that Charlotte had offered to bring them information.
****
Charlotte avoided Greer’s gaze as they left the study and made their way toward the stairs that led to the solar. She’d just been caught kissing Greer’s brother. What could she say?
She stifled a sigh. Here she was—a twenty-first-century woman who was not a virgin—embarrassed about a kiss? Maybe the old adage about “when in Rome…” really did apply. Being caught kissing in the eighteenth century was probably akin to being caughtin flagrante delicto.
Warmth spread through her as she recalled how sensuous the kiss had been, how wonderful Niall’s arms felt pulling her close, how fantastically the two of them fit together as though made for one another. If only they hadn’t been interrupted…
Something poked her. For a moment, still lost in her fantasy, she thought it might be him. Then she realized it was Greer’s elbow instead. She was glad the hallway was lit only by sconces. Her face was probably flaming.
“Are ye back among us mortals?” Greer asked with a grin.
“What? I—” Her face definitely was on fire. “Yes, of course. Why?”
The stupid question was out before she could stop herself. She didn’t need an answer. She knew why. Greer probably did too, although that didn’t stop her.
“Ye look like ye are far, far away from here.”
If Niall’s sister only knew how far away fromhereshe really was…
“Or,” Greer continued, her grin widening, “maybe just downstairs in the study?”
That was exactly where she had been, still wrapped in an ever-deepening kiss, although she’d never admit it. “I suppose I should explain—”
“No need,” Greer said. “I ken my brother. He’s had his eye on ye since he brought ye home.”
That sounded rather like she was a rescue puppy, but the other point… He was interested? “He has?” she asked. “Really?”
“Och, aye.” Greer waved a dismissive hand. “He has always had an eye for a bonnie lass.”
Well. That statement was certainly an ego-deflator. Although not so different, either, from twenty-first-century men. That wasn’t anything new, merely human nature. She grimaced.Still.
Greer frowned slightly. “Did he take advantage of ye?”
“What? No.No.” Greer shook her head. She certainly couldn’tblameNiall since she was the one who instigated the whole thing. Probably best not to admit that, though, since she didn’t know how Greer would take it. “I…didn’t mind.”
