Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson
Chapter Twenty-Three
The day was warm, uncharacteristically so, and Adelleine was glad to take a walk around the castle grounds with Fin, even though the circumstances of their reunion weren’t pleasant. She had missed him, indeed, and it was only when she saw him again that she realised just how much.
She had also missed the rest of her family, even her Aunt Victoria, who—despite all her flaws—had always been there for her.
“Remember when Mother found us in the kitchen, covered in flour?” Fin asked, “And we told her that we were making bread, but there was no bread in sight . . . just a dozen children, running around, covered in flour.”
Adelleine laughed at the memory, nodding her head. She remembered it as though it had just happened. She remembered Jacob being the one who threw the first handful, and then everyone else joined in the fight, if she could even call it a fight. She remembered how furious Aunt Victoria had been when she had found them, and how they had been punished severely for it. Despite that, all that remained was a fond memory, and she knew that if Aunt Victoria was reminded of it, she would end up laughing, too.
“Or when you spilled ink on Lucille’s head!” Adelleine said, laughing so hard that she had to stop walking, “Her hair was black for days, and she wouldn’t talk to you for weeks after that!”
“I remember, I remember,” Fin assured her, “But she deserved it, if I may say the truth. She had been the one to tell Mother that I ate all the biscuits. If she hadn’t opened her mouth, then I wouldn’t have been spanked.”
“Don’t pretend that you were an angel as a child,” Adelleine said, “You were a difficult one, and I’ve been raising a little boy who wouldn’t talk to anyone up until very recently. You were much, much worse.”
“Ah, what did I ever expect from you?” Fin teased, “You were always the prim and proper one.”
“Only when there were people around,” Adelleine reminded him.
For a while, the two of them walked in silence. Adelleine let Fin admire the courtyard, with its fragrant bushes and its towering trees, something that one didn’t see often in the Highlands.
“This place looks like it belongs in England,” Fin said, as if on cue, “I didn’t even know you could plant all these things up here.”
“The laird’s wife planted them,” Adelleine informed him, “Or, I suppose, she had someone plant them for her.”
“The laird’s wife?” Fin asked with a frown.
“Yes,” Adelleine said, “Why is it so surprising?”
“I thought . . . well, I thought that there was something between the two of you,” Fin admitted, “Then again, I don’t suppose that all lairds are faithful to their wives.”
“Fin!” Adelleine hissed, all but baring her teeth at her cousin. “Is that really what you think of me?” she asked, “Do you think that I would have any sort of romantic relations with a married man?”
Fin stammered, stumbling over his words, clearly uncertain of what to say.
“Forgive me!” he managed to spit out in the end, “I didn’t mean to offend you! I only thought that there was something between you two.”
“Well . . . you were right,” Adelleine said, “But he lost his wife many years ago. Whatever there is between us, I can assure you that it started much later after her death. I would never be with a married man.”
“I know, I know,” Fin assured her, but it seemed to Adelleine as though he found the topic of her and the laird much more interesting than any moral dilemmas regarding unfaithful husbands, “So . . . you and a laird. I suppose Mother would be very pleased if she knew.”
“Oh, please don’t tell her, Fin!” Adelleine begged him, suddenly gripped by fear. She didn’t want her aunt to be involved in any of it, as she knew that the only thing the woman was after was wealth. The last thing Adelleine wanted was for her aunt to somehow offend Magnus and ruin the relationship between them. “I don’t want her to know, not yet, at least. I . . . she’s nothing but trouble sometimes, you know that.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say a thing,” Fin promised, “Besides, I don’t talk to Mother that often. I send her a letter every now and then, but it hardly seems like a place to tell her about your personal business.”
Adelleine had to admit that she was relieved. She let out a soft sigh, and then she stopped by a bench, pulling Fin down next to her.
“Why are you still working for the baron?” she asked him.
“Because I have to,” Fin said with a small shrug. He seemed unbothered by it, but Adelleine knew him well enough to know that it was nothing but a façade. She could hear it in his tone, she could tell that he hated his life by the baron’s side, and she could hardly blame him for it. “It is what it is. It’s the only way that Mother and I don’t need to worry about money, about my sisters. If I left, then I don’t know what I could possibly do.”
“You can stay here, with me,” Adelleine offered, even though she didn’t know if Magnus would be alright with that. It was her cousin, after all, and she wanted to help him desperately. “I’m sure that Magnus will find something for you to do here, in the castle. There is always work to be done.”
“Thank you, Adelleine, but I don’t wish to be a beggar,” Fin said, “Though if everything works out and your laird manages to defeat the baron and the other clan, then I may just have to accept your offer.”
“Well . . . it will always be here for you,” Adelleine assured him.
Once again, there was silence between them, but neither of them felt the need to fill it with words. They simply sat side by side, enjoying the time that they got to spend together, at least until Adelleine heard the distinctive sound of Hendry’s footsteps.
The man always walked with a purpose, almost in a march.
“The laird has reached a decision,” Hendry informed the two of them, “And he thanks ye for your swift action, Fin. He will thank ye himself after the battle is over, but for noo, he asks that ye go back to the baron. He would like ye to send us messages about everything that the baron is plannin’, so that we are ready to defend the castle when they attack.”
“So, he believes me, then?” Fin asked.
“Aye, we all do,” Hendry assured him, “And ye have been verra helpful to us. We willnae forget that. Ye’ll always have a home here, in the castle, if ye need it.”
Fin stood, nodding at Hendry. “Thank you. Well . . . I’d better be off, then. If I am to spy on the baron for you, then I can’t provoke any suspicion from him.”
“Safe travels, Fin,” Hendry said, just as Adelleine pulled Fin into a hug once more.
“I hope I will see you soon,” she said, “Be careful.”
“I will be,” Fin promised, and with that, he turned around, heading towards the stables, where he had left his horse.
Adelleine turned to look at Hendry then, frowning at the look on his face. It was an unreadable one, but it was one that she hadn’t seen on Hendry before.
“What is it?” she asked, “Why are you looking like that?”
“Hmm?” Hendry asked, turning his gaze to her, “Och, it’s nae a thing, lass, dinnae worry.”
“I don’t believe you,” she told him, “There’s something that you’re not telling me.”
Hendry stayed silent, but Adelleine examined his face carefully, even as he looked away from her, and in the end, she thought that she knew what was wrong.
Hendry was worried. He wasn’t worried in that way that he worried about Magnus sometimes, fussing over him like an overprotective parent would fuss over their child. No, Hendry was truly worried, more so than she had ever seen him before.
“Are you afraid of the baron?” Adelleine asked him, “Are you afraid of what he can do?”
“Nay, lass,” Hendry said, finally turning his head to look at her once more, “Nay . . . I am afraid of the MacForfin clan. Do ye ken what happened last time that a MacForfin and a MacRestus met?”
“No,” Adelleine said, “What happened?”
“Magnus’ brother was killed,” Hendry told her, “Seamus MacForfin, the laird of their clan, was the one who killed him. And noo he is after Magnus and the rest of our clan. He wants the clan for himself, ye ken, and he’s nae the kind of man to stop once he has somethin’ in his mind.”
“I didn’t know that Magnus had a brother,” Adelleine said, suddenly realising that perhaps there were many things that she didn’t know about Magnus, things that he hadn’t shared with her.
She wondered if he would ever truly open up to her, if he would tell her anything about his past that wasn’t simply superficial information. She wondered if he would ever trust her enough for that.
“Aye, he did,” Hendry said, “He was younger than Magnus. Seamus went after him first, and then he would go for Magnus, but there was a battle between our clans, nae a big one, but a battle nevertheless, and we fought him off. I suppose noo would be a good time for him to come back for another attack, noo that he has the support of the baron. That is why I worry so much, lass . . . I worry because I’ve seen what clan MacForfin can do.”
Even though she hadn’t pried to get that information, Adelleine couldn’t help but feel as though she was listening to something that she should have never heard. Perhaps it would be different if Magnus himself had offered her that information, but hearing it from Hendry seemed wrong.
Still, she was glad that he had told her. She was glad that she knew the severity of the situation, as well as a little more about Magnus than she knew before.
“But you’ll defeat them, won’t you?” Adelleine asked, “I’ve seen Magnus and his men fight . . . I’ve seen you practicing, I know what you can do. I know that you can defeat them.”
“Aye, perhaps,” Hendry said with a small shrug, “But we’ll have to wait and see. There’s nay tellin’ who will win this battle. The baron is a cunning man, it seems to me, and so is Seamus MacForfin. I cannae ken what they’ll come up with to beat us.”
“Well . . . I know that the baron wants me,” Adelleine said, “If it comes to it, then he can have me. He can kill me for all I care, as long as all of this stops.”
Before she knew what was happening, Hendry had his hands on her shoulders, gripping her tightly. Adelleine’s eyes widened as she looked at him, wondering what had just gotten into him.
“Dinnae say that,” he told her, “Dinnae ever say that. Ye willnae be takin’ yerself to the slaughter nay matter what, do ye hear me? Even if the baron wants ye and only ye, which is nae the case, it would seem, the MacForfin clan still wants the rest of us. There is nay reason in givin’ yerself over to the baron. If we die, then we die. Ye will nae go to that man.”
“A—alright,” Adelleine said, for lack of anything better to say, as she extricated herself from Hendry’s grip, “What has gotten into you?”
“If ye die, then Magnus and Fergus will both be devastated,” Hendry said, “Especially if ye die at the hands of the Baron. I willnae sit back and watch while Magnus gets his heart broken again because a lass he loves dies. It will break him, Adelleine. It will break him, and he willnae be able to recover from it.”
Adelleine was speechless. Hendry was right, of course. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen to Magnus and Fergus if she died, but she had never expected Hendry to show such emotion about it.
In fact, she didn’t even know that Hendry had any other emotions than mere annoyance. The range that she had seen from him that day was a surprise, to say the least.
“Alright, alright,” Adelleine said, “I won’t do anything that will put my life in danger. Well, unless it’s for Fergus. Then I will gladly give my life, and neither you nor Magnus can stop me.”
“That’s fair enough, lass,” Hendry said, “Ye can die for Fergus all ye want, but nae for anyone else.”
Adelleine couldn’t hold back a snort at that. Then, silence fell between the two of them, and the more time passed, the more desperate Adelleine became to ask a question that had been in her mind for days.
In the end, she simply couldn’t stop herself.
“So . . . you and Isla—”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence before Hendry’s expression went blank, betraying nothing. Then, he turned around and walked away without another word, leaving Adelleine dumbfounded.
He must have heard her, of course, she thought. He was right there, next to her, and there was no way that he could have missed it. He simply didn’t wish to talk about it, so he had turned around and left, rude as it was.
Adelleine couldn’t be mad at him, though, not when he glanced at her over his shoulder and she saw the furious blush that had crept over his cheeks. It was a strange sight, Hendry’s face flushing from anything other than exertion, and it was something that Adelleine would have thought she would never see.
It lifted her spirits a little, she had to admit. The constant talk of war and disaster had turned the day gloomy and morose for her, but knowing that Hendry blushed like a little girl at the mention of Isla was enough to make her smile once more.
She wondered if Magnus ever blushed that way when someone mentioned her, though she doubted it. In fact, she doubted that anyone mentioned her to Magnus at all, or vice versa. Even after spending that night together, along with many other nights, even when Magnus told her how he felt about her, it still seemed to Adelleine like their relationship was a secret, like he was hiding it from everyone else.
She wondered if anyone else would ever know, or if she would always be his little secret.
