Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Magnus hadn’t seen Adelleine at all for days. It was strange, not having her around so suddenly, after all the time that they had spent in each other’s presence, but Magnus didn’t want to be the one to search for her.

He had all but chased her out of the study, and now he was facing the consequences. Then again, perhaps it was a good thing that she wasn’t near him, he thought; it helped him focus on the plans for Caton and Laird MacForfin.

“Fin has sent word,” Hendry told him, as the two of them sat in Magnus’ study to have a hurried lunch over their plans. Mrs. Blair had insisted on the two of them eating, and she would personally bring them trays upon trays of food every day, just to ensure that no one would get thinner on her watch.

“What did he say?” Magnus asked.

“MacForfin will attack with his men,” Hendry said, “Just as we expected. Caton and his own men dinnae seem to have much to do with the plan.”

“So, he’ll just sit there and let others do the work for him,” Magnus scoffed, as he stabbed a piece of beef with his fork, a little more forcefully than strictly necessary, “I cannae say that I’m surprised. From what I’ve heard about him, he isnae the kind of man to do any work himself.”

“He doesnae need to,” Hendry pointed out.

“I dinnae need to,” Magnus reminded him, “And yet I still do. What kind of leader lets others do all the work for him?”

“He’s a baron, nae a laird,” Hendry said, “What did ye expect from those Sassenachs? He kens nay a thing about fightin’.”

Magnus could hardly argue with that, but he still didn’t think it was proper for a man, any man in power, to force others to fight his battles. He would be there, fighting right next to his men when the time came, just as his father and grandfather had done before him.

“Well . . . at least we ken what they’re plannin’,” Magnus said, “Fin has been verra helpful.”

“Och, aye. And somethin’ tells me that he’ll be in need of a job soon.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at that. “Are ye tellin’ me that I should give him a job in the castle?”

“Aye, why nae?” Hendry asked, “He seems like a nice enough lad . . . and I’m sure that Adelleine would be happy to have him here.”

“I suppose so,” Magnus said, “And right the noo, I’d do anythin’ to make Adelleine happy.”

Hendry let out a soft hum, giving Magnus an understanding nod. “I see . . . what is happenin’ between the two of ye, then?”

“I hardly think that is any of yer business, Hendry,” Magnus said.

“I’d say the contrary. It’s verra much me business.”

“Och?” Magnus asked, “Care to tell me why?”

“Because if ye have a lass on yer mind while we’re fightin’ the MacForfins, ye’ll get yerself killed,” Hendry pointed out, “And since then the burden falls on me, I’d verra much rather ye didnae get yerself killed.”

“Ach, I see,” Magnus said, “The only reason why yer keepin’ me alive is because ye dinnae wish to be a laird.”

“Aye, why else would I want ye alive?” Hendry teased with a small smile, one that put a matching one onto Magnus’ lips, “So . . . what is it that ye did this time?”

“I told her we should keep our relationship a secret,” Magnus confessed.

“It’s a wee too late for that, wouldnae ye say?” Hendry asked, “Everyone in this castle kens about the two of ye, what’s the point in hidin’?”

“Nae everyone, surely!” Magnus protested, “Ye cannae tell me that the whole castle kens about it! It’s only ye and Isla who ken anythin’.”

“That’s what ye’d like to think.”

Hendry laughed, shaking his head at Magnus, who could only look at him with wide eyes. Could he have been so mistaken as to think that no one knew anything about his relationship with Adelleine, while the entire castle was gossiping about the two of them behind their backs?

“Does everyone ken about it?” Magnus asked, as he dropped his knife and his fork onto the desk with a clatter, “Everyone? Does everyone speak about it?”

“Weel . . . they used to,” Hendry said with a small shrug, “But then Davie slept with Eithne, Gilroy’s wife. Noo it’s all that they talk about.”

“Better have them talk about them than about me,” Magnus said, as he stood from his chair with a sigh, making his way to the window to stare at the people that walked around the courtyard, going about their days. He had been so foolish to think that no one would find out about him and Adelleine, and he had been so foolish to let that be the reason for the rift between him and Adelleine.

He could apologize, of course. He could try and make it right between them, but he didn’t know if Adelleine would even accept his apology. She had been so distant ever since he had told her to leave him to his plans, and the few times that he had seen her since then, she had never once spoken to him.

“Dinnae fret so much over it,” Hendry told him, “So what if everyone kens? Everyone in this castle loves Adelleine, I dinnae think they mind. Weel . . . even if they did, they cannae say anythin’ about it. Yer the laird, remember?”

“Aye, I remember,” Magnus assured him, “And that is why I wished to keep it a secret. I dinnae want the people to be talkin’ about it, about me, behind me back. What if nothin’ comes out of it? What if somethin’ does come out of it, and they dinnae want a Sassenach as the lady of the clan?”

Hendry’s hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck, his brow furrowed. “I dinnae ken,” he said, “I dinnae ken, and neither do ye, nor anyone else. Will ye let that dictate what ye do?”

It was a good question, Magnus thought, but one that he wanted to answer affirmatively. How could he not let his fear get the better of him? How could he act without considering his fear, or any of his clansmen and women, when he was responsible for them?

He decided to not answer Hendry’s question.

“Do ye think that Fergus kens, too?” he asked the other man instead, “I worry more for him than I do for the rest of the clan findin’ out.”

“Nay . . . nay, I dinnae think he kens,” Hendry said with a small shrug, “He’s only a bairn, Magnus. I’d be surprised if he did.”

“I dinnae wish for him to find out, nae yet,” he told Hendry, “I dinnae wish for him to think that I’m replacin’ his maither.”

“The more ye hide it from him, the harder it will be to tell him in the end,” Hendry cautioned him, “He seems to love Adelleine verra much anyway. What are ye waitin’ for?”

“I’m waitin’ for the right moment,” Magnus said, “And I will keep waitin’ for it, nay matter what ye or Adelleine or anyone else thinks. It’s about me son . . . this decision is up to me.”

Hendry raised his hands in surrender. “Verra weel, verra weel . . . ye do as ye wish. But I’d tell ye to go and speak with Adelleine, at least. The poor lass is nae doin’ weel, Isla tells me.”

Magnus was about to agree, to tell Hendry that he should, in fact, go and see Adelleine right that instant, but then his brain caught up with what the other man had said, and his words gave him pause. He turned around from where he was looking outside the window, eyes narrowed and suspicious.

“Isla said?” he asked Hendry, “Since when do ye ken what Isla said? Since when do ye speak to Isla?”

Hendry blinked in surprise a few times, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something to say. He sputtered, words barely coming out of his mouth, which only made him look guiltier in Magnus’ eyes.

“What do ye mean?” Hendry shrieked, his voice shrill, as he stood from his chair, “Cannae I speak to Isla noo? Is that a new rule, that nay lad can speak to yer sister?”

“That’s nae what I said,” Magnus pointed out, “Lads can speak to me sister, but ye’ve never spoken to her before, have ye? Ye dinnae go up to her every day and ask her how she’s been . . . in fact, I dinnae remember the last time that I saw the two of ye talkin’ in front of me eyes.”

“I dinnae ken what yer implyin’, but—”

“Dinnae ye?” Magnus asked, as he took a few menacing steps towards Hendry, “Let me make it clear for ye, then, Hendry . . . are ye seein’ me sister?”

“Nay!” Hendry said, quick to dismiss Magnus’ suspicions, “Nay, I would never do that!”

“Ye wouldnae?” Magnus asked, his hand slamming onto the desk, as he stood only inches away from Hendry’s face, his spit landing on the other man as he spoke, “What? Is me sister nae bonnie enough for ye?”

“Nay, that’s nae it!” Hendry said, “Of course she’s bonnie, but there isnae anythin’ between me and Isla!”

Rage bubbled over inside Magnus. He didn’t want Hendry to have any sort of relations with Isla, since he knew what kind of man he was very well. He had seen how many women Hendry could juggle at the same time. He had seen how he treated them, like conquests, like just another objective to fulfil. He had seen that they didn’t matter to him after he had had his way with them, and he didn’t want him to treat his own sister like that.

“Magnus—”

“Tell me the truth, Hendry,” he said, not missing the fact that he had called him by his name. Despite Magnus’ own insistence that Hendry should keep calling him by his name ever since he had become the laird, Hendry had not done so, unless he wanted to appeal to their friendship, but Magnus was not going to be swayed. “Tell me the truth right noo.”

Hendry sighed, a hand coming up to tug at his own hair.

“Fine,” he said, “Fine, the truth is that we’ve been together for a while, but I would never—”

“I’ll kill ye!” Magnus shouted, before Hendry could even finish his sentence. He lunged for the other man, but Hendry was quick enough to rush to the door and run outside, where Magnus followed him on quick feet. “Come back here! Me own sister?”

Magnus wasn’t even aware that he was shouting in the middle of the castle as he chased Hendry around the corridors. The two of them passed a bewildered maid, Hendry looking at Magnus from over his shoulder as he tried to outrun him.

“I’d never hurt her, Magnus!” he shouted, “If ye could only talk to me like a normal person—”

“Yer still talkin’ to yer laird!” Magnus reminded him, though the last thing he resembled as he chased Hendry was a laird, “How dare ye touch me sister? How dare ye?”

There was a thump, a groan, and then a short silence, and it brought Magnus to a halt. On the ground in front of him, there was Isla, with whom Hendry had collided, and the two of them had fallen there in a tangle of limbs and skirt. Magnus rushed to them, offering his hand to Isla to help her up, but instead of accepting it, she batted it away.

“What do the two of ye think yer doin’?” she asked, voice stern as she stood on her own, smoothing her dress down. She looked at them with fury painted on her face, hands on her hips and lips pursed thinly. “Chasin’ each other around the castle like wee bairns! Yer both fools! And I’m nae an object that ye can argue over!”

“Isla!” Magnus barked, his own face twisting with anger. “Ye can be with anyone, anyone but him!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Hendry, as the man was standing up, “Why him? Dinnae ye ken what kind of bastard he is?”

“Dinnae call him that!” Isla said.

“Weel . . . he’s nae wrong,” Hendry interjected, “But if I may speak, m’lord, I told ye before that everythin’ ye kent about me has changed. I’m nae the same man I used to be, remember? I told ye that, I told ye there was a lass that changed me.”

“I didnae think it was this lass!” Magnus said, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation, “Ye were me best friend, Hendry. I trusted ye, and ye bedded me sister!”

“Magnus, stop it right noo,” Isla hissed, as she grabbed Magnus’ arm, her grip crushing, “It’s nae yer decision to make. I love Hendry, and he loves me.”

“Do ye even ken—”

“Aye, I ken,” Isla assured him, without Magnus having a chance to finish his sentence, “I ken about everythn’. I ken about all the lasses, I ken what he was like, but he’s tellin’ ye the truth. He’s nae like that anymore. And ye . . . weel, ye’ll have to deal with it, because I will nae stop seein’ him.”

Magnus was certainly not happy about the news. His blood boiled in his veins, a low growl growing in his chest. The last thing that he wanted was for Isla to be mistaken and for Hendry to hurt her like Magnus expected him to.

“If yer lyin’ to me and to her,” Magnus told Hendry, as he turned to look at the other man, “then I’ll have yer head, do ye understand? I dinnae care if yer me right hand. I dinnae care if we’ve been friends for years. If ye hurt her, I will kill ye.”

“That’s more than fair,” Hendry said, as he wrapped his arm around Isla, and Magnus couldn’t help but grimace at the sight.

He wondered if he would ever get used to it, seeing the two of them together. He also couldn’t help but wonder just how long they had been hiding their relationship from him, but he decided that he didn’t wish to know. Perhaps if he knew, then it would only serve to infuriate him even more.

“And how dare ye say what I can and cannae do when ye’ve been so terrible to Adelleine?” Isla asked, clearly still angry with Magnus, “Ye have nay right to speak about Hendry and what he has done when ye’ve been nothin’ but terrible to her.”

Magnus bit his own tongue. He had nothing to say to that, nothing that could defend him, and so he kept quiet instead. Isla was right; he had been terrible to Adelleine, and he still hadn’t given her an apology for it. Perhaps it was already too late, though, he thought.

“Ye should go and talk to her,” Hendry said, his tone just a little hesitant after Magnus’ outburst, “I’m sure that everythin’ will be fine. Ye only need to speak to her.”

“Aye, Hendry’s right,” Isla said, “She’s been avoidin’ ye all this time because she doesnae think that ye regret what ye said to her. She doesnae ken what to tell ye. Ye’ll have to be the one to talk to her first.”

“I . . . I dinnae ken what to say.”

It was hard for Magnus to admit it, but while he always knew what to say to other lairds, to his people, to everyone else, he simply couldn’t figure out what to say to Adelleine. He was at a loss for words every time that he looked at her, his mind occupied by different things than words.

She made him feel like he could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

“Tell her anythin’,” Isla said, “Anythin’ is better than what ye have between ye noo. Anythin’ is better than nothin’.”

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, feeling a headache coming on. As much as he hated to admit it, Hendry and Isla were right. And yet, his feet were glued onto the ground, refusing to move. His mouth was dry, his fingers frozen with fear.

“Or . . . or I could ask her to come talk to ye,” Isla suggested, perhaps sensing Magnus’ terror at the prospect of having to talk to Adelleine.

It wouldn’t surprise him if Isla could read his thoughts, as she always seemed to know what was going on in his head, even when they were children.

“Nay,” Magnus said with a sigh, “Nay . . . I should talk to her. I’m the one who started this, I should be the one to fix it. And ye,” he told Hendry, as he wagged a finger at him, “ye’ll want to be careful from the noo. If ye ever—”

“Aye, aye, we ken,” Isla interrupted, “Ye dinnae need to say anythin’ else, nae to us, at least. What are ye still doin’ here? Go find Adelleine.”

Magnus was on the verge of reprimanding Isla, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. So, instead, he did as he was told, and began to search for Adelleine.

His heart thumped in his chest. The more servants he asked about her whereabouts and the closer he got to her, the more his hands trembled.

And then, he found her, sitting by the very lake where she had almost drowned. He knew that she would be alone, as Fergus had a strict schedule with his tutor, but that only made it harder for him to approach her.

“Magnus,” she said when she noticed him, “What are you doing here?”

Magnus forgot every word he had ever spoken.