Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Eleven

Magnus all but ran out of the room that morning. He could hardly bear to look at Adelleine, or to be around her at all, and he couldn’t imagine what the rest of the ride to the castle would be like for the two of them.

Adelleine had made it clear to him, after all, that anything that had happened between them was better forgotten, never to be discussed again.

He wasn’t certain whether he had done something wrong. Magnus considered himself a skilful lover, though that was hardly something that he could decide for himself, but he also knew that perhaps the problem hadn’t been the way that he had pleasured Adelleine—or the amount of pleasure that he offered her, for that matter—but rather something that he had said.

He had a tendency for saying the wrong things sometimes.

He didn’t remember saying anything that could have offended her, though. In fact, he didn’t remember saying anything at all.

Could it be that his unwillingness to receive his own pleasure from her had offended her in a way? Could he have done something that he didn’t even remember?

“Where did ye spend the night, m’lord?” Duncan asked, a small smirk on his face, and Magnus was suddenly yanked out of his thoughts.

“What do ye mean?” he asked, “In me bed, where else?”

“Och . . . then Frang and I must have knocked on the wrong door, seein’ as there was no one in yer room when we came to wake ye.”

Magnus’ face went through all the different shades of pink and red within seconds, until it settled on a deep, shameful flush that told his two men more than his words could ever betray. He could have chastised them for bringing it up, he could have reminded them that they were speaking to a laird, but he had joked about their late night escapades more than once in the past, and so he could only lower his voice and grab them both by their collars.

“Dinnae ye dare say anythin’ to Adelleine when she comes,” he warned them, “If I hear even one thing from yer mouths—”

“What do ye take us for?” Duncan asked, gasping in mock offense, “Would we ever do such a thing, Frang?”

“Nay, Duncan, we wouldnae,” Frang assured him, “But if the conversation turns to last night, then—”

“What are you three doing?”

Adelleine’s voice made Magnus jump, pulling back his hands with such speed that he almost toppled over.

“Nothin’!” he said, along with the other two men, who were desperately looking for something with which they could occupy themselves, “Nothin’, we were talkin’ about leavin’. Aye, we’re leavin’ right noo.”

Adelleine gave Magnus a look, one that told him that she certainly didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say anything. No matter what he told himself, he could never be convinced that she didn’t know precisely what they had been talking about. Still, her silence was preferable to a discussion about the night they had shared.

“What about breakfast, m’lord?” Frang asked, “Shouldnae we eat before we leave?”

Magnus wanted to forbid it. He considered telling Frang that they should be on their way, that they had a long way ahead of them and that the sooner they left, the better it was for everyone, but he could hardly do that without looking even more suspicious. So he simply nodded in agreement, and then took a seat at one of the empty tables, sulking in the corner by himself as his men ordered food and Adelleine gazed outside the window.

She seemed just as reluctant to talk to him as he was to talk to her.

If Magnus were honest with himself, he would have to admit that it saddened him. He and Adelleine had developed that tentative, fragile friendship between them, a friendship that he had enjoyed immensely while it had lasted, and now it was all gone. All there was left was his own confusion about Adelleine’s quick dismissal of him.

Perhaps it was better that way. How would he explain to everyone, to his own son, that he had returned from his trip with a new woman? Everyone had loved Caitriona while she was the lady of the MacRestus clan, and her death had shocked and saddened every clansman and woman in their lands. Bringing a new woman into the clan, especially a foreign one, didn’t seem like a good idea.

Besides, he doubted that Jacob would be very happy about his best friend bedding his sister. It somehow seemed more disrespectful to Magnus now that Jacob was dead than it would if he were alive.

The breakfast was spent in silence, Duncan and Frang—the only two people in their group who could possibly hold a conversation that morning—too busy eating to talk to each other. Magnus didn’t fail to notice that Adelleine wasn’t really eating, but rather picking her food apart with her fork and knife, just like he was doing.

His appetite was long gone and had never returned ever since Micheil had died right in front of his eyes.

Once they were back on the road, Magnus stayed ahead of the other three, partly because he didn’t want to be too close to Adelleine, and partly because if they were going to be attacked again, he wanted to be the first line of defence. He didn’t think he could handle losing another one of his men, not when he had the means to prevent it.

Magnus spent his days glancing behind his shoulder and obsessively looking at his surroundings, examining them as the four of them rode their horses. He was searching for any kind of movement, anything that would alert him to the presence of a threat, but their days were uneventful, and no one else attacked them.

Before Magnus even knew it, they were approaching the castle, the four of them safe and sound.

He would never get tired of seeing that castle, Magnus thought, as they rode through the gates. It was home, and no matter how many burdens he had while he was there, no matter how many terrible memories lived in those walls, there was also happiness and a longing for the place that he knew better than any other.

It didn’t surprise him when he saw Hendry rushing to them. He was always the one who would welcome Magnus whenever he returned to the castle, and even though it had been many years since he had last left, it was a tradition that Hendry seemed to be reluctant to break.

The man ran to them, but then he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes going wide at the sight in front of him.

In the time that had followed Micheil’s death, Magnus had become accustomed to seeing Adelleine instead of him on the other man’s horse. That was the first time that Hendry was seeing her, though, and Magnus was certain that he hadn’t missed the fact Micheil was nowhere to be found.

Magnus jumped off his horse, handing the reins to the stable boy, who had approached them, offering to take the horses. He had to break the news to Hendry, but he knew that it would be even harder on the other man than it had been on him.

After all, Hendry was the one who spent more time with the guards, training them and turning them into warriors.

“Where is he?” Hendry asked, before Magnus could even greet him, “Where’s Micheil?”

Magnus placed a gentle hand on Hendry’s shoulder, and that gesture was enough to confirm what Hendry surely already suspected. Magnus watched as Hendry rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers, as his face was drained of colour, as his hands began to tremble.

“I’m sorry, Hendry,” Magnus said.

“How did it happen?”

“Brigands.”

“Bastard . . . I told him to be careful,” Hendry said, but there was nothing but grief behind his voice, “I told him, Magnus.”

“Aye, I ken,” Magnus assured him, his hand patting Hendry’s shoulder gently, “I ken, Hendry.”

Neither man spoke, not until the other three approached them, Adelleine hovering around Magnus. In the previous weeks, ever since that fateful night they had spent together, they had never managed to go back to normal, at least not fully, but the tension between them wasn’t as cumbersome nor as obvious as it used to be.

Magnus had come to terms with the fact that there was nothing between them, and Adelleine seemed to be happy with the two of them being nothing more than friends. It had taken them a while, but at least now they could look each other in the eyes once more without either of them blushing furiously in embarrassment.

“Hendry . . . this is Adelleine,” Magnus said, once she had come to stand by his side, “She’s Jacob’s sister.”

Hendry looked up at Magnus, then, with a frown on his face. “Why did ye bring Jacob’s sister here?” he asked, “That isnae what ye went there for.”

“I asked to come,” Adelleine said, “I . . . well, the truth is, my aunt wanted me to marry a baron, but I didn’t wish to marry him, and neither did Magnus, so now I am here.”

Hendry blinked in surprise a few times, glancing between the two of them. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, though, Magnus decided to interrupt him, knowing that whatever Hendry was about to say would not be something that Adelleine would want to hear.

“It was Caton, Hendry,” he told him, “How could I leave her there?”

At the mention of the baron’s name, Hendry’s entire demeanour seemed to change, and he nodded in understanding. Caton was hated by everyone who knew him, and Hendry was no exception.

“Ach, fine, fine,” Hendry said, “I suppose ye didnae have a choice, then. What’s yer name then, lass?”

“Adelleine.”

Once the initial shock had passed, Magnus could see that Hendry’s more charming side was beginning to come out of him. He smiled at Adelleine, giving her the kind of smile that he reserved for the ladies he deemed the prettiest, and Magnus couldn’t help but glare at the man.

He’d be damned if he would let him court Adelleine.

“I’m verra pleased to meet ye, Adelleine,” Hendry said, taking Adelleine’s hand in his and pressing a kiss on her knuckles, “I’m sure ye’ll be right at home here, with us.”

“Aye, aye,” Magnus said, waving a hand dismissively, “Leave us noo. Go train the guards or whatever it is ye do every day. I’ll show Adelleine around the castle.”

“I could do that,” Hendry offered, but Magnus was quick to shut that down.

“Nay, you couldnae,” he insisted, “Ye have things to do, away from here. Go noo.”

Hendry grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, and Magnus neither heard it nor did he care to hear it. All he cared about was shooing Hendry away and keeping him as far away from Adelleine as he could.

Not that he had a right to do so, he reminded himself. Adelleine was a grown woman, she could make her own decisions, and Magnus was nothing to her but a friend. He reasoned, though, that he knew Hendry better than anyone, and if he didn’t deem him as good enough for his little sister, then he wasn’t good enough for Adelleine either.

Hendry wasn’t good enough for most women, Magnus thought, simply because he liked them a little too much.

“He seems very nice,” Adelleine said, which only served to force more blood rushing to Magnus’ head, “You should be nicer to him, you know.”

“Should I?” Magnus asked, as he began to lead Adelleine inside the castle, “Trust me, I’m verra kind to him as it is.”

Adelleine hummed in a way that told Magnus she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press the subject, and for that, he was grateful. How could he explain to her the real reason why he didn’t want Hendry around her?

He could hardly come to terms with that reason himself. The more he thought about it, the more he despaired, thinking that all those weeks that had passed ever since they had lain together, all that time and effort he had put into ignoring his own feelings and pushing them as deep down as he could had done nothing to make him feel any better or any less attached to Adelleine.

It must have been a curse, really, Magnus thought. Someone must have cursed him to always think about Adelleine, to always want her, while knowing that they could never be.

“So . . . am I to meet your son?” Adelleine asked him, as the two of them were heading to Magnus’ office.

While the entire castle was his domain, he didn’t feel at home anywhere else as much as he did in his study, and that was where he took care of most of his duties and business.

“Aye, ye’ll meet everyone,” Magnus assured her, “All in good time. First, Mrs. Blair will show ye yer chambers, and then I’ll introduce ye to everyone. I think ye should meet Fergus last, since as I told ye, he isnae the easiest bairn to work with.”

Magnus opened the door to his study, letting Adelleine in, and for a moment she stood there, by the door, looking at the room with her lips slightly parted. Magnus had seen her glance at other luxurious items around the castle, but the decorations in his study, all the leather-bound books, and the gilt details on the walls had all stopped her dead in her tracks, and it seemed like all she could do was stare.

“I . . . I remember the house where I lived with my parents, but even that couldn’t compare to this,” Adelleine said, “Is this really your study?”

“Aye,” Magnus said with a soft laugh, placing a hand on Adelleine’s shoulder to push her gently into the room, “Are ye surprised? It’s a castle.”

“It certainly is,” Adelleine said, as she took a seat on one of the chairs by his desk, settling onto its comfortable leather seat, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this.”

“It’s verra easy to get used to it, trust me,” Magnus said, “It’s only hard going back to the bare necessities. Weel . . . do ye like it here?”

Adelleine had only spent a few minutes in the castle, and she had had little time to see anything, Magnus was well aware of that. Still, he couldn’t help but ask; he couldn’t help but hope that it lived up to her expectations.

“Oh . . . I do,” she said, “I certainly do. I think I’ll enjoy living here very much.”

Magnus smiled at her, hoping the same.