Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Hello, Adelleine.”

It was all Magnus could say at first, his throat just as tight as his chest. Adelleine simply stared at him, patient and seemingly understanding, but that only made Magnus feel worse about the way that he had treated her.

“I came to apologise,” he managed to say, and once he did, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. It seemed so simple once the words had left his mouth, even though at first it had appeared to be an insurmountable task. “So . . . forgive me, for what I said to ye. I never seem to say the right thing, do I?”

“I suppose not,” Adelleine said, but there was no malice behind her words.

“I shouldnae have tried to keep it a secret,” Magnus said, “Weel . . . it seems like it isnae much of a secret anyway. Hendry says the entire castle kens about us.”

“I . . . I know,” Adelleine said, “Isla told me, but I don’t know how much of it is her own exaggerations.”

“I dinnae think she’s exaggerating,” Magnus said with a small shrug, “Word travels fast in the castle. For all we ken, they’re all talkin’ about us right noo.”

“I thought they are all talking about Gilroy’s wife and Davie,” Adelleine said, and Magnus couldn’t help but laugh at the reminder.

“Aye, aye, that is true,” he said.

No one gossiped around him. Magnus seemed to be the last one to know about everything that was happening in the castle.

“What about Fergus?” Adelleine asked, “You said that you don’t wish for him to know yet.”

“Aye, and I stand by that decision,” Magnus said, “But . . . but I promise ye, I will tell him soon.”

“Magnus, I . . .”

Adelleine hesitated, her voice trailing off, and Magnus felt a pang of guilt in his chest. She seemed torn and tortured, her fingers scrunching up the fabric of her skirt nervously, and Magnus couldn’t help but feel as though he had said the wrong thing.

“What is it?” he asked, “Ye can tell me, whatever it is.”

Adelleine took a deep breath, and to Magnus, it felt as though she was drawing in all the air around them, and suddenly, it was he who couldn’t breathe.

“I understand why you don’t wish to tell him,” she said, “I told you that before. I simply don’t know if understanding it is enough for me. I don’t know how much longer I can hide, how much longer we can hide. I never wanted to hide in the first place.”

“What are ye sayin’, then, lass?” Magnus asked, even though he didn’t know whether he wished to hear the answer.

Adelleine hesitated for a moment, and then a small, humourless laugh left her lips.

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” she admitted, “But it’s not the time to talk about such things, is it? Not when the baron is preparing for an attack. Shouldn’t that be the first thing on your mind?”

“Och, trust me, it is,” Magnus said. It had been the only thing that he could think about for days, slaving over their plans for the attack, trying to figure out the best ways to keep the baron away from the castle. “It’s the only thing that has been in me mind, but the plans are done. They are as good as they’ll ever be, and each and every of me men kens what to do when the time comes. There isnae anythin’ left to do.”

“Magnus . . . will it be alright?” Adelleine asked, “Will . . . will the clan be alright?”

Magnus frowned ever so slightly at the question. “Aye, why wouldnae the clan be alright?”

“I don’t wish for anything to happen to these people because of me,” Adelleine said, “I don’t know what I would do if your clan suffered because I left the baron.”

“The baron had no claim on ye,” Magnus reminded her, “Anythin’ that happens here when he attacks, it’s the baron’s fault, nae yer own, do ye hear? Dinnae think for a moment that if somethin’ happens, ye are to blame.”

It had never once occurred to Magnus to blame Adelleine for anything that could happen when the baron would attack. All the damages, all the people that he would hurt would be on him, Magnus knew, and no one could blame Adelleine. After all, it had been his decision to take her to the castle, to give her a home there, and to help her get away from Caton. He could have just left her to her own devices, he could have just allowed her to run away on her own, but that was never an option for him.

Adelleine was silent, and seemingly unwilling to say anything else. Magnus didn’t know where that left the two of them, though, so he took a seat next to her, perching himself on a rock, his gaze fixed on the icy waters of the lake.

“I ken about Isla and Hendry,” he said, thinking that it was perhaps the safest subject that they could discuss, “Hendry told me . . . weel, he only told me after I suspected it, but he told me everythin’.”

“And what did ye do?” Adelleine asked.

“I chased him around the castle, tryin’ to fight him,” Magnus said, and out loud, it sounded ridiculous even to his own ears. Adelleine laughed, a bright, amused sound, and Magnus couldn’t help but laugh along. “It doesnae sound verra nice when I say it like that, does it? What can I say? I was angry.”

“Yes, Isla feared so,” Adelleine said, “She told me that she feared you would have his head.”

“And I will if I must,” Magnus said.

There was a pause between them, a silence that was more uncomfortable than Magnus would ever want to admit. He didn’t know how they had gotten to that place, when only days prior they had been happy, their relationship blossoming.

“Adelleine . . . I need to ken,” Magnus said, his hands balling up into fists as he tried to stop them from shaking, “Does it change anythin’ between us? The hidin’? Is . . . are we . . .”

Magnus couldn’t find the right words to continue. He didn’t want to ask Adelleine if whatever there had been between them was over, because it sounded to him as though he would be the one to bring about the end.

“What are we?” Magnus managed to ask in the end, “What are we noo?”

Adelleine stayed silent for what seemed like eons to him. He didn’t like her silence. He didn’t like not knowing what she was thinking, what she wanted, and if she wanted him at all.

“I don’t know, Magnus,” Adelleine said, “I think you should be the one to decide that. I’ve told you how I feel and . . . and I do wish to be with you. I do. But it hurts to be your secret.”

Magnus nodded, and then reached for Adelleine’s hand, albeit hesitantly, holding it in his own.

“Alright,” he said, “I only need a little time, Adelleine. I need a little time to tell Fergus. I promise ye, I will do it as soon as I can.”

“How long is a little time?” she asked.

Magnus didn’t have the answer to that. If he were honest, he didn’t know how long it would take for him to feel comfortable sharing the news with Fergus. The boy was still so young, perhaps too young to understand, and Magnus didn’t want to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt.

He had only just begun to speak again. Magnus had only just started seeing his son, the boy that he had known before his wife’s death, in him again, and he’d be damned if he allowed him to go back to the unhappy boy that he had been for so long.

“I . . . I dinnae ken,” he said, “Perhaps after everythin’ is done with the baron, ye and I can decide that together. What do ye think?”

That seemed to please Adelleine if the smile that spread over her lips was any indication. Magnus had missed that smile dearly, and he was so glad to see it once more that he couldn’t help but lean closer and press a kiss on Adelleine’s lips.

Once they parted, Adelleine looked at him, and Magnus felt his heart skip a beat. He had grown to be so in love with her, he realised in that moment. He had grown to love her so dearly, and he couldn’t wait for the moment when he would finally be able to announce his love for her to everyone.

“I’d like that very much,” she told him, “Thank you, Magnus. It means a lot to me that you trust me with this decision.”

“Weel, I trust ye with raisin’ him. It’s only fair that I trust ye with this, too.”

A strange silence fell between them once more, and Magnus wished that there would be something that he could say to make things go back to the way they used to be. That tension between them, that distance that they seemed to have, just wasn’t normal for the two of them. Magnus longed for the times when talking to Adelleine was easy, the words flowing out of him like a stream, and all he wanted was for that familiarity to return.

He simply didn’t know how to bring it back.

“Adelleine—”

“Magnus—”

The two of them spoke at the same time, and then erupted in a nervous laughter. Magnus tentatively reached for Adelleine, taking her hand and holding it between his own.

“Ye speak first, lass,” he told her.

“No, no . . . I’m sure that what you have to say is more important,” she told him, “You tell me first.”

“I can assure ye that there isnae anythin’ important that I have to say,” Magnus said, “Tell me noo . . . what is it?”

Adelleine hesitated for a moment. She looked uncertain, but her hand didn’t move from where Magnus was holding it, and that gave him some hope.

“I only think that this is a little strange,” she said, “This . . . whatever this is between us. It’s as though I can’t speak to you anymore, and I . . . I don’t want us to be like this. I don’t want to feel like one of us is about to say the wrong thing all the time.”

“Aye, I ken what ye mean, lass,” Magnus said. In fact, it had been the very thing that was on his mind, too. “What if we forget about everythin’ else? Nothin’ else that has happened between us matters to me. Nothin’ matters other than me love for ye.”

Adelleine smiled. She smiled, bright as the sun, and Magnus took that as an agreement. He leaned closer, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her, and before he knew it, the two of them were on the grass, ignoring the mud and the stains that they got on their garments as they rolled around on the ground.

Magnus was happier than he had been for days, and he smiled against Adelleine’s lips. His smile soon turned into a soft laugh, and then a moan when she kissed him deeply, taking his breath away.

The upcoming battle was long gone from his mind. Nothing else mattered in that moment but Adelleine. Nothing was as important as her lips, her touch, the way that she moved when she rolled on top of him.

And yet, he and his clan were in danger, more danger than he could have thought.