Page 47 of Midnight on the Scottish Shore

47

Creag na Mara Saturday, June 27, 1942

Leaning on his cane, Lachlan stepped through the door to Creag na Mara and set down his kit bag.

Effie scampered around his feet and pawed at him.

“Careful, lass.” Lachlan stumbled but laughed, and he scratched the collie behind her ears. “Aye, I’m happy to see you too.”

Mother descended upon him and enveloped him in a hug. “We’ve missed you.”

“Aye,” Father said. “They didnae allow us to travel to the Orkneys to visit you in the hospital. Or to bring you home for Arthur’s wedding. How are you?” Father shook Lachlan’s hand and eyed his leg.

Lachlan tapped the cane on the flagstone floor. “I’ll probably need this for life, but I’m walking. I’m alive.”

Mother pressed her hands to his cheeks, and her brown eyes shimmered. “And you’re a hero.”

Lachlan rolled his eyes.

“Och, Rhona. You’ll swell the lad’s head.”

“Wheesht, Malcolm.” Mother patted Lachlan’s cheeks and released him. “I intend to spoil him for the next week. Then away he goes to the Admiralty.”

Father grunted. “At least he willnae be out at sea or off in Africa.”

“Aye, and I’ll come home whenever I can.” With a job shuffling papers, he’d welcome every bit of leave.

“Good. It’ll be lonely, especially after Neil leaves.” Mother pressed her hand to her mouth. “Och! Neil wanted to tell you himself.”

“Aye, Mother, I did.” Neil tramped down the stairs wearing a big smile and a gray suit.

True joy welled inside, and Lachlan hobbled to his brother and shook his hand heartily. “It’s good to see you. But where are you going?”

“Shall we get you settled in your room?” Neil gestured to Lachlan’s bag. “Do you need help?”

Refusal danced across Lachlan’s tongue, but he bit it off. Stairs challenged him, and he needed to accept his limitations. “Aye. Thank you.”

Gripping the cane in one hand and the banister in the other, Lachlan placed his left leg on one step and dragged his unbending right leg up to join it. “So, where are you going, Neil?”

“I dinnae know yet. I’ve enlisted in the Army, and I’m waiting to be called up.”

Lachlan stopped halfway up the flight. “Och? You have?”

“Everything that happened.” Neil shot Lachlan a pointed look. “I now see Germany intends to destroy England at all costs, and they’ll destroy Scotland to do so.”

“Aye, they will.”

“I’m fighting for Scotland, mind you.” Neil waited for Lachlan at the top of the stairs and shrugged. “But I’ll do so in an English uniform.”

Lachlan murmured and followed his brother down the hall. “Our fates are intertwined.”

“Aye, and what’s happening on the continent ... did you read the reports that came out recently? The Nazis are massacring thousands of Jews. Some say a million have died.”

“Aye. It’s horrific.” Lachlan met his brother’s compassionate blue-eyed gaze. “It’s not an English war or even an Allied war. It’s a war for humanity.”

“I’ll gladly fight for that.” Neil opened the door to Lachlan’s room and swung his bag onto the bed. “The time for a Scottish nation will come, but not until after we win this war. And not through violence or sabotage. Through a reasonable appeal to fairness and history.”

“I’m proud of you.” Lachlan’s voice thickened. “You’re a good man.”

“Wheesht.” Neil shut the door after Lachlan and gave him a sheepish smile. “You willnae be so proud when you see me in a humble private’s uniform.”

Lachlan’s smile and his admiration grew. “No. Even prouder.”

Neil dipped his head to the side, but then he stepped closer and looked Lachlan hard in the eye. “Did you know Cilla left?”

A kick in his chest. “Aye, I was told.”

“She left after all this happened.” Neil spoke in a low voice and motioned to Lachlan’s leg. “The spy you shot—do you think he came to—”

“We cannae discuss this.”

“The same night Mar na Creag broke free from her moorings and drifted to sea—on a fair night with the slightest of winds?”

“Neil.” Lachlan fixed his firmest gaze on his brother. The family boat had been towed back to Brough the following day, battered yet afloat.

Neil huffed. “Cilla left no address, but Mother thinks she’ll write.”

“She never will. She cannae.” Almost two months. Although the pain in his leg lessened each day, the pain in his heart merely changed form.

Neil mashed his lips together. “Is she—”

“All I know is she’s alive and safe. That’s all I’ll ever know.”

“I’m sorry.” Neil’s eyelids fluttered.

His brother’s sympathy settled deep in his soul, and Lachlan gave him a brisk nod. Then he worked up a smile. “Och, who needs a lass when he has a brother?” He punched his brother’s shoulder.

Neil chuckled and punched him back.

Lachlan lost his balance and plopped onto the bed, laughing. Aye, it was very good to have a brother again.

****

London Monday, July 6, 1942

In a small conference room at MI5 Headquarters, Commander Yardley patted a folder on the table. “We have an assignment for you. We’d like you to work with our newest double agent.”

“Oh?” Cilla sat taller and studied the thick folder. “I thought I was here to file and type, not that I don’t enjoy the work.”

Tar leaned back in his chair and crossed his tartan trouser-clad legs. “Our main purpose in bringing you here was for this very possibility. MI5 has far too few female officers, and we’ve found our female double agents often require a feminine touch.”

“I’m serving as this agent’s case officer,” Yardley said, “and you would serve as a companion of sorts.”

Tar drummed his fingers on his knee. “Her code name is Diamond. She could be extremely useful—a continental socialite who would be embraced at the highest levels of society. The Abwehr hopes to use her charms to learn our military plans. And we hope to base her at Portsmouth where she can work her way into naval circles. We have great plans for her. If we can control her.”

Cilla could already picture Diamond. “Control her?”

Tar sighed. “She’s given us quite a bit of trouble. She’s temperamental and spoiled.”

“Diamond needs a feminine touch, but not any feminine touch—yours.” Yardley flicked his chin to Cilla. “I’ve seen how you work with people. When I’m too brusque with her, you’ll be able to soothe her. When she mopes, you’ll encourage her. And when she’s petulant, you’ll be firm.”

Cilla would rather soothe and encourage and be firm with Lachlan, who had never once been petulant or spoiled. A rush of grief, but she kept her expression neutral.

Tar grinned at Cilla. “You also demonstrated talent in storytelling and creating fictional subagents. You could assist Diamond in that regard.”

“This is her case report.” Yardley slid the folder to Cilla. “Transcripts from our interviews with her and all the information we have on her from various sources. All very hush-hush, of course.”

“Of course.” Cilla stroked the dossier.

“This folder must not leave this room,” Yardley said. “Stay in here this morning to read it through and memorize pertinent details that will help you understand her.”

Cilla gave him a sly smile. “Control her.”

“Diamond will need both understanding and control.” Yardley rose to his feet. “Now if you’ll please excuse us, I have another meeting.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Cilla smiled at them. “My work here has been satisfying, but this truly sounds fun.”

Yardley smiled in his wry way. Her fun didn’t concern him in the slightest. “More importantly, you would be performing a valuable service.”

“Thank you, sir.”

After the men left and shut the door, Cilla opened the case report. She was living in a vibrant city, and she could soon explore Portsmouth as well. She was reunited with her aunt and cousin. She had a new assignment which would use her social abilities, her propensity for spinning stories and creating characters, and even her newfound familiarity with naval matters.

Learned from her naval officer.

She could almost hear Lachlan’s voice, feel his devotion and kindness and steadiness as if he were present in the building.

If only ...

Cilla huffed out a breath and focused her eyes on Diamond’s case report. She had far too many blessings to dwell on what could never be.