Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Fourteen

Adelleine regretted the way that she had treated Magnus. He had managed to infuriate her, of course, with his unwillingness to make some effort for his own son, but she hadn’t taken the time to remember that Fergus wasn’t the only one who was going through some hardship.

Besides, Magnus was the laird. If he decided that Adelleine was too rude to him, too disrespectful for his liking, then he could easily forbid her from being in the castle, and then she would have nowhere to go.

She didn’t know how to approach him, though. Should see go to his study and talk to him, apologise for her behaviour? Would he even want to talk to her?

Adelleine decided that there was only one way to know for certain. With a determined sigh, she stood from where she and Isla were sitting, playing with Fergus, her hands smoothing the fabric of her dress and fixing her hair.

“Och, I see,” Isla said, giving her the kind of sly look that Adelleine hated.

“Oh? What is it exactly that you see?” she asked.

“Yer goin’ to see me brother, are ye nae?”

Adelleine detested the fact that she was so easy to read. She neither confirmed nor denied Isla’s suspicions as she turned to leave, giving her only a small scowl.

In retrospect, perhaps that scowl said a lot more about her intentions than words ever could.

“I simply need to speak to him about something,” Adelleine said, turning back to her, “Or do you think that anything I say to him is flirtatious?”

“I think that the two of ye cannae keep yerselves from turnin’ flirtatious,” Isla shrugged, but Adelleine knew that she cared about the topic more than she admitted, “I ken the both of ye verra weel, better than ye seem to ken yerselves. If I dinnae push ye to do what ye should, then who will?”

“And what should we do?” Adelleine asked, despite her better judgement.

“Oh, I’d tell ye, but nae so near any bairns,” Isla teased, much to Adelleine’s chagrin, “Listen, Adelleine . . . ye ken what ye should do. He kens what ye should do. Why dinnae ye do it so that the rest of us can stoop talkin’ about it every day?”

“The rest of you?” Adelleine gasped, eyes wide in shock, “Who else talks about this? Who else knows?”

Isla’s eyes widened, as well, looking at Adelleine in surprise, as though she hadn’t meant to say those words.

“Isla,” Adelleine said, “Tell me right now.”

“Och, it’s nae a thing,” she told her, “Sometimes, Hendry and I speak about it, because we cannae tell anyone else.”

Adelleine could have killed both Isla and Hendry right then and there, but Isla was too good of a friend to her for Adelleine to hurt her. She wasn’t above teasing Isla just as she had teased her, though.

“Don’t you and Hendry have anything better to do when you meet each other?” she asked Isla, “It seems to me like the two of you would much rather do other things.”

“Adelleine,” Isla said, giving her a tight, humourless smile, “Go and see me brother.”

Adelleine couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, deep and throaty, and utterly satisfied. At the mention of Magnus, though, she remembered why she had stood in the first place, and she turned around, leaving Isla and Fergus to their game.

Adelleine marched to Magnus’ study, knocking on the door once she got there, but not waiting for an invitation before she entered. The sight of Magnus, his head resting on the desk as his hands gripped his hair, gave her pause, and there was no stopping the flush of embarrassment that spread over her face when Magnus lifted his head to look at her, not even when she saw an identical flush on his own cheeks.

“Adelleine!” Magnus exclaimed when their eyes met, “What . . . what are ye doin’ here?”

Adelleine froze. In that moment, she didn’t know what to say, even though she had gone there with the intention of apologising to him.

“I . . . can I take a seat?”

“Aye, of course,” Magnus said, gesturing at the chair that sat in front of his desk, “Is everythin’ alright? Is Fergus alright?”

The last question made Adelleine wince. As much as she had accused Magnus of not caring about his own child, he seemed to worry a lot about him, and Adelleine mentally berated herself once more for thinking otherwise.

She approached the chair and sat down at the edge of the seat, lacing her fingers together as she placed her hands in her lap. Then, she took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to say what was on her mind.

“Yes, he’s fine, Magnus, but I came to apologize,” she said, the words coming out of her in a rush, “I’m sorry for getting angry, I . . . I wasn’t thinking about you. I was only thinking about Fergus and—”

“And that’s how it should be,” Magnus said, finishing her sentence for her, though not in the way that she would have.

It took Adelleine aback, and for a few moments, she could only sit there, looking at Magnus with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asked, “I was terribly, terribly rude, and I didn’t consider that you were suffering, too.”

“Aye, I ken,” Magnus said, “But yer Fergus’ governess and it’s yer job to worry about him. Besides, nay one needs to worry about me. I’m fine. I’d much rather spare the laddie the pain.”

It wasn’t the sort of resolution that Adelleine had expected, but she would take it over having Magnus be upset at her.

“You’re not angry with me, then?” she asked, “You’re not anrgy about the way I acted?”

“I was,” Magnus admitted, “But ye were right, I should try more with Fergus. Perhaps I should spend some more time with him, though I doubt it will make any difference.”

Just hearing that Magnus was willing to try spread a feeling of warmth in Adelleine. It was all that she could ask of him, after all, and it was precisely what Fergus needed, she was certain of that.

“You’ll see . . . if you start spending time with him, you’ll see that he’ll open up to you,” she assured him, “I’m sure that he’ll start talking to you soon.”

“I hope so,” Magnus said, “It’s been hard on us both ever since Caitriona died.”

“Your wife?”

“Aye,” Magnus confirmed with a nod of his head, “Aye, me wife. For weeks, I didnae think that I could live without her. I didnae think that I could survive in the world that had taken her away from me.”

Adelleine stood, walking towards the window by Magnus’ desk and gazing outside. She could hardly look at him when he looked so broken, so sad, like he was still grieving for his wife.

“The only thing that kept me alive was Fergus,” Magnus confessed, “Nothing else in the world could keep me alive but him. He looks just like her, ye ken. He looks just like Caitriona.”

“It must be hard for you, seeing her in him every day,” Adelleine said.

“Aye, sometimes it is . . . other times, I’m happy that a part of her is still here. It isnae always bad, I’m sure ye ken that, too,” Magnus said, “Do ye see yer parents in ye?”

“Oh, yes,” Adelleine said, a soft laugh escaping her lips, “I see my mother in me often, and so does everyone else. Or did, I suppose, when I was in England. Aunt Victoria used to love to remind me of it, but I never minded. My mother was the kindest woman I ever knew, and to be even a little like her is a blessing.”

“Fergus has his maither’s eyes and her hair, and her nose, but he has his faither’s stubbornness, unfortunately,” Magnus said with a soft laugh of his own, “Och aye, he reminds me of meself, perhaps a little too much. I wish that he wasnae as stubborn as me, for his own good.”

“I suppose it’s not rude to say so if you’ve said it first,” Adelleine teased, “But yes, you are very, very stubborn.”

Magnus gasped, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest in mock offense. Then, his shock melted into a smile, and he stood, joining Adelleine by the window and gazing at the world outside.

Adelleine looked at him instead. She let her gaze trail over the lines around his eyes, the curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw, and before she knew it, Magnus was staring right back at her.

She didn’t know who it was that initiated the kiss. All she knew was that Magnus’ lips were soft against her own, and that he tasted like wine and smoke from the pipe that he smoked every now and then.

It was a quick kiss, but it left her breathless, nonetheless. When Magnus pulled back from her and pinned her down with that gaze of his, Adelleine could only avert her own gaze, but he didn’t let her. With a finger under her chin, Magnus tilted her head up, and soon, the two of them were kissing again.

Adelleine felt Magnus’ hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t resist. She didn’t want to resist. Magnus seemed to want her as much as she wanted him, and though she had tried to keep her distance, she simply couldn’t anymore.

She kissed him back just as fiercely, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. Before she knew it, Magnus’ hands moved to her buttocks, lifting her up, and one of her legs came up to wrap around his waist as he pushed her against the nearest wall. Adelleine could feel him everywhere, his hands digging into her flesh, greedy and insatiable. She couldn’t resist grabbing a fistful of his hair, the strands soft as she slid her fingers through them, and that drew a soft moan out of Magnus’ lips.

If they didn’t stop soon, Adelleine knew there would be no coming back.

Magnus must have thought the same, as he pulled back from her, heaving and trying to catch his breath. When their lips parted, they simply stood there, their foreheads pressed against each other, looking at each other’s eyes.

For a moment, it felt as though there was no one else in the world.

Magnus laughed when they pulled apart, and Adelleine couldn’t help but do the same. She could hardly believe what had just happened, and she was stunned by her boldness and Magnus’ own.

“I . . . was that alright?” Magnus asked.

Adelleine nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice trembling. It was more than alright, she thought; it was precisely what she wanted.

Still, she didn’t know where they would be going from there on, and she didn’t know how to ask. Speaking seemed like the wrong thing to do. Words could ruin everything, after all, if they were the wrong ones.

So, instead of talking, Adelleine pressed another kiss on Magnus’ lips, quick and chaste, before she ran out of the study.

She had to tell Isla, of course. She couldn’t keep the news to herself, not when she was so excited.

Besides, Isla would know what she should do, Adelleine thought. She would tell her what her brother wanted, she would tell her what she should say to him when she would see him again, because Adelleine herself had no idea.