Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson
Chapter Thirteen
“What do ye mean he spoke to ye?” Magnus asked.
He had been sitting at his desk, as he always did those days, seemingly constantly going through endless stacks of papers and letters, when Adelleine and Isla had both barged into his study with big, excited smiles on their faces.
Then, they had told him that Fergus had spoken to them.
“What does it sound like?” Isla asked, “He spoke to us, Magnus. What do ye think we mean?”
“He spoke to ye . . . Fergus spoke to ye out of his own free will?” Magnus asked.
It seemed necessary to clarify. Fergus hadn’t spoken to anyone in years. In fact, Magnus had started to worry that perhaps he had even forgotten how to speak, and that he would never manage to say a word ever again.
Naturally, surprise couldn’t begin to cover what he felt when Adelleine and Isla had broken the news to him. He also couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, his stomach twisting into a knot as the two women spoke excitedly about it.
He was Fergus’ father, and the boy didn’t even want to talk to him at all. It seemed like he would much rather talk to Adelleine and Isla instead, and though he was happy that his son was making progress, a part of him also wished that he had been the one to cause it.
Then again, he had to admit that he was barely trying to get him to speak anymore. He was barely trying at all.
“How . . . what did he say?” Magnus asked, “Did he sound . . . can he speak? Can he speak normally?”
“Yes, of course he can speak normally,” Adelleine said, and Magnus let go of a breath that he hadn’t even known he was holding, “He can speak just fine. He didn’t say much, but I think with time, he will. I think he’ll go back to normal.”
“Aye, the laddie is fine,” Isla confirmed, “He just needs some more time.”
Magnus could have cried of relief. He could have, but he didn’t. He didn’t want either of the two women to see him shed a tear, even if it was a happy one.
“Weel . . . thank ye for lettin’ me ken,” Magnus said, before he went right back to his stack of papers. The two women, though, simply stood there, Adelleine with her hands on her hips and Isla with a disapproving look on her face.
It took Magnus several moments to notice that they seemed to be in no hurry to leave his study, and once he did, he glanced up at them, surprised at the looks that they gave him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Don’t you want to speak to him?” Adelleine said, and though her tone was gentle, Magnus could still detect a hint of disapproval and anger behind it, “Don’t you want to see if he’ll talk to you?”
There was nothing that Magnus wanted more in the world. He often dreamt of hearing his son speak again, but every time he woke up to realise it was a dream, another part of his heart would shatter. He didn’t know if he could handle talking to him, only to be met with silence once more, just like every other time he had tried talking to him throughout the years.
He would be ecstatic once Fergus spoke to him again, if he ever would, and Magnus was certain about that. He was certain that it would be one of the happiest days of his life. He was happy to wait for Fergus to come to him, though, instead of pursuing something that would most likely not happen.
“I think I should give him some time, lass,” Magnus told Adelleine, “He only just started speakin’ . . . I dinnae wish to scare him noo and have him stop speakin’ again altogether.”
Though Adelleine said nothing, Isla shook her head and gave a frustrated sigh before she left the room, banging the door shut behind her. Magnus could only shake his head, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to combat the oncoming headache.
“She doesn’t have the best way of showing it, but she’s right,” Adelleine said, as she took a seat across from Magnus, giving him a stern look, “If you don’t make an effort, Fergus will never speak to you. He’s only a child, he needs to be guided. He needs to be shown some attention if he is to overcome this.”
Magnus had had about enough of people telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. Everyone seemed to think that they knew better than him, that he was always making some sort of mistake.
Everyone seemed to forget that he was only a man, and that there was only so much that he could deal with at any given time.
“I’ve made an effort,” Magnus pointed out, “I made efforts for years, Adelleine, long before you came here. I tried all the time with him, and what did I get, hmm? I didnae get anythin’. He never spoke to me. He never said a single word, but noo that yer here, he seems to be a completely different lad! Weel . . . good for ye. Good for ye for helpin’ him, but dinnae tell me how to act with me son. Dinnae tell me what to do when ye dinnae ken what it’s been like for me.”
His rant seemed to have left Adelleine speechless. Then, just as he thought that she was going to say something, Adelleine slammed her hands on his desk, stood up, and left without another word.
When the door was shut behind her, Magnus let his head fall into his hands, breathing in deeply through his nose, like a bull ready for a fight. He simply couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at anyone, though, not for longer than a few minutes.
He felt guilty, of course he did. He felt guilty that he hadn’t done more to help Fergus in the previous years, and he felt guilty for being jealous of Adelleine and Isla for accomplishing what seemed impossible to him.
He felt guilty that he had snapped at Adelleine, who only had Fergus’ best interests in mind, as well as his own.
How could he have done such a thing? How could he have exploded in anger when he knew that Adelleine and his sister were both right?
Magnus cursed himself under his breath and let his head hit the desk. He could only wish that Adelleine wouldn’t hate him after their altercation, that he hadn’t ruined everything between them.
Not that there was anything between them. In the weeks that Adelleine had spent in the castle, ever since the two of them had returned from England, their physical proximity seemed to have brought them closer emotionally as well. Every time that Magnus watched her with his son, every time that he glanced at her, seeing her laugh with Isla, every time that she wished him a good morning, Magnus fell a little more in love with her.
It didn’t matter how much Magnus tried to avoid falling in love with her. It didn’t matter how much he tried to deny it, day after day, minute after minute. Somehow, Adelleine managed to make her way into his mind, into his heart, and Magnus stood no chance.
Sure, he was the laird, he thought, but then again, shouldn’t that be precisely why he could marry whoever he wanted to marry? Shouldn’t he be allowed to have some happiness in his life, no matter what his clansmen and women would think about it?
A part of him said yes, but another part of him simply could not let go of the sense of duty that he had, the responsibility that he felt towards his people.
Though if he were honest with himself, his problem wasn’t so much that he would let his people down, but that Fergus would end up hating him, and Adelleine as well. He didn’t want him to think that he was replacing his mother, especially since such a thing could never happen. Caitriona was not only his son’s mother, but his first true love.
He simply couldn’t help it that he had fallen in love with Adelleine as well.
Magnus let his head fall in his hands once more, this time groaning in frustration. He was being a coward, he realised. He was being nothing more than a fool and a coward, and he had to snap out of it before he missed his chance to be with Adelleine.
Should he simply tell her, he wondered? Should he simply walk up to her and confess his love to her? Should he kiss her without saying anything, and hope that his actions would be enough for her to understand?
The latter seemed like a bad idea, Magnus thought. Instead, he should simply tell her.
If only it were that easy, he would have already poured out his heart to her.
