Page 26 of Highland Spy

“I see ye’re training hard, Connor.” A masculine voice cut the air.

He turned to find a large man with a mass of blond waves and braids stalking toward him.

Murdoch.

“About damn time,” Connor said with a grin. They locked forearms and embraced once before slapping each other on the back.

“Ye’ve got news, aye?” Connor asked in a low voice.

Murdoch opened his hands in a helpless gesture. “I wouldna have taken so long otherwise.”

Connor jerked his head toward the castle. “Talk first, food later.”

“Aye, that’s why I ate a bannock on the way in.” Murdoch flashed a smile, revealing a freshly broken front tooth.

Connor led the way to the castle entrance. “I see ye’ve gotten prettier since ye’ve been gone.”

“And I see the skinny one has become a nice bonny lass,” Murdoch mumbled to him. “If Delilah wants some help with teaching the girl some tips in the bedchamber, I’d like to volunteer my—”

Connor hadn’t realized he was glaring at the man until Murdoch’s speech stopped.

“She’s bonny is all,” Murdoch said with a shrug.

“She’s a trainee is all.” Connor led Murdoch into the castle, where the darkness of the stone walls left him near blind after the brilliance of the sun. His body prickled as his sweat began to cool. “These girls work hard and deserve respect.”

“Aye, I know that.”

Even though Murdoch had admitted to his mistake, Connor had the overwhelming urge to knock Murdoch’s crooked nose farther across his face.

Connor didn’t bother with idle chatter while they made their way to his solar. He’d never been one for it, especially not when such anger simmered in his blood.

Once they were inside, he folded his arms over his chest and counted through ticks of patience, a childhood lesson his mother had taught him. One he’d never outgrown, as he’d never seemed to acquire the patience age was supposed to render.

Oblivious, Murdoch warmed his reddened hands by the fire.

“What news do ye have?” Connor asked.

“Ach, I’ve been all over Scotland in the dead of winter. I’m thinking James needs to pay me more.” Murdoch turned his head sharply to the side, and a deep, grinding pop sounded from the base of his neck. “First of all, I’ve almost found yer man. He moves fast, that one, so when he’s found, ye need to act, aye?”

Connor nodded.

Angus MacAlister.

Connor had intentionally chosen the other man before Kenneth Gordon. In fact, he tried to not even think of Kenneth.

“MacAlister’s a shite of a man,” Murdoch said in gruff voice. “I wouldna mind killing him myself.”

There was usually a reason Connor received the names he did. They were men too powerful for the king to reprimand, or who needed to be removed from society.

But with a diplomatic delicacy only Connor, the son of the notorious Shadow, could accomplish.

“I’m only staying the night, then I’m back out. I think MacAlister is in the area.” Murdoch stepped away from the fireplace. Flames reflected off his pale hair, giving him an orange-cast glow. “Also, yer sister wants ye to visit.”

Connor bit back a groan, and Murdoch grinned as if sensing his torment.

“Ye canna keep putting her off forever,” Murdoch added. “She’s only going to get more agitated.”

Connor nodded toward the door. “Go get yer food.”