What is bothering her so much?
Chapter 9
An uneasy mind kept Magdalene awake enough to count the haunting hoots of night owls outside the abandoned shed they had for shelter. She was lying down on a bed of her horse blankets and feigning sleep as the night drew on. Guilt was gnawing at her stomach because she was being unfair to Angus. The man had been nothing but nice to her but she had repaid his generosity by flashing hot and going icy cold.
She could see his confusion every time she became troubled and needed comfort but when Angus tried to do it, he stopped at her flinch. She had to apologize to him but how could she tell him the conflicted and fearful thoughts running through her mind? She had to find a way to tell him that she appreciated all he was doing for her without her voice disappearing on her.
Angus was devilishly handsome too with those untamed red locks, a square jaw and those deep, shimmering blue eyes resting under hooded brows. Her cheeks heated in the dark as she remembered those seldom times he had touched her, the warmth and tenderness of his fingers, which made an even warmer sensation to spread through her body, heating her in places she had never expected and caused her heartbeat to stutter.
Magdalene did not dare move as she knew any movement would be immediately detected by a watchful Angus. The rainstorm had continued through half the night and had only petered off a few hours ago, the respite allowing the night birds to appear. The shed they were using as a cover was sturdy enough to hold off the brunt of the rain but the rustic smell of the sodden earth was seeping through the thin walls.
Angus was sitting up against the far wall, his sword resting between his legs, the scabbard pointed down on the floor and Angus’ hands resting on the hilt. His head was down and his hair was over his eyes. She did not know if he was sleeping or not so she did not move until dawn came. Only then did she rise.
“Good morning,” she said tentatively.
His eyes darted up and his lips quirked, “Good mornin’ lass. Sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Magdalene smiled in relief while standing. He did not seem angry and she was grateful but she cringed at the next words. “I need to relieve myself.”
“The storm is gone so I ken ye can go outside,” Angus said as he saddled her mare. “Let me take ye.”
Leaving the shed, the rainwater smell was still hanging in the air but everything looked so bright and refreshed that Magdalene was stunned for a moment. She carefully stepped around puddles and finding a corner, pulled the belt and relieved herself. She redressed quickly but her fingers slowed to run over Angus’ linen shirt. The man had given her his clothes. She was dressed in his clothes.
How can I have held back my appreciation for so long?
Coming around, she watched silently as Angus finished readying the horses and helped her up on hers. As he was about to pull away, she held onto his hand. He frowned a little. “Lass?”
“Thank you, for everything,” she said, hoping her words would blanket all her debts and spare her the embarrassment of going into detail.
Angus’ head canted to the side and then that slow, leisurely smile that she loved tugged at his lips. “Aye lass, yer welcome. With any luck, we’ll be coming up on Glen Urquhart. From there we can easily take the way of Loch Ness to guide us home.”
“Loch Ness!” She exclaimed. “The one with the beast?”
Angus roared with laughter. “There’s nae beast in that water, lass. Ye English are so strange. The fish are big but there is no beast there.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Magdalene added, looking shyly over to him. “I understand that it is the Highlands, but does it get terribly cold there?”
“Er, yes, in the winter it does and during the summer the mist from the Loch Duich blankets the places in white but it’s a calm cool, nothin’ too terrible.”
While they rode off, Magdalene maneuvered her horse close to his. Presumably, to hear him speak, but really to be near him. Angus did not seem to mind or even notice how close she strayed—until her legs brushed him.
She felt his eyes on her but kept hers forward. Perhaps he would think nothing of it—they were passing through a narrow passage after all. As soon as the passage cleared, she put a good few feet between them. Angus had stopped speaking about his home and she decided to ask.
“You said you have a sister?” Magdalene asked. It was a bit redundant as he had spoken about his family at length, but she was trying to show him she was not as distant as she’d been before. “What is she like?”
“Eh,” Angus held back a snort. “A bit mischievous, we all are, but me brother Malcolm is the worst. It’s as if trouble finds its way to him whether or nae he chooses it. Ailsa is clever and pretty but growing at a speed I’m nae comfortable with. I ken I’d soon have to be walking with me sword when her suitors come a’ calling.”
“I wish I had siblings,” Magdalene admitted. “My mother had a warm time with me and went through terrible labor. She almost died and was warned that she might do so if she chose to have another baby.”
Her words began to spark a growing heaviness in her chest. Her mother had to be out of sorts now, with her only child gone and her husband dead by murder. Was her Uncle putting pressure on her for Magdalene’s sudden absence?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Angus said. “But I’m sure she’s proud of ye now. Ye came all this way by yerself.”
She laughed softly, “Not really. A squire accompanied me to the borders, then had to turn back. I wish I could say I was in control of all that happened but then you came to rescue me, something I was too inadequate to do myself.”
A hand reached out and grasped her reins—thankfully the horse had only been walking so it was easy for Angus to get her mount to stop. She turned to him, slightly surprised. Angus’ eyes were dark and heavy. At first, she feared she had done something wrong. “Angus?”
“Lass, ye are nae to blame for those bastards attacking ye,” he said tenderly. “Ye did the best ye could, dinnae ye?”
“Well…yes,” she had to admit but her words coming after those were bitter. “But I was not strong enough to do more. I am sure one of your people would have had no problem escaping or even defending themselves.”
“Nae all Scots are born with fighting ability,” Angus said frowning. “It takes training to do so. Is that’s what’s worrying ye?”
“I…if anything would happen to me again like that, I’m not sure I could survive,” Magdalene said quietly, looking down on her horse’s mane instead of looking at Angus. “I feel weak.”
“There’s an easy fix for that, lassie,” Angus’s voice was light and she dared to meet his eyes, “We can train ye…if ye want.”
Her immediate reaction to that was to point out that would take more time than what they had. She was sure her face would clear up soon, but her mind was fixed on having a chance to have more time with Angus. Have more time with this handsome man, or go and live a solitary life with her Aunt, a time that could stretch indefinitely if things weren’t cleared at home quickly enough. The choice was clear.
“Yes. I’d like that,” she said quietly. It probably was not wise to go stay with Angus, as Aunt Perse would be on the lookout for her in the next few days, but she could easily apologize to her aunt when she met her.
“I am sure we can get ye a good teacher,” Angus assured her. “Even Ailsa can teach ye, I’m sure.”
“Your sister?” She asked unnecessarily.
“Aye,” Angus said, while releasing her reins. “She’s a scrappy little fighter when she wants to be. I’m sure she learned from watching me and Malcolm growing up. Malcolm showed us he was a fighter at eleven years. He managed to tame a horse that none of me faither’s men would even touch with a long stick. Reckless he is but true to his cause.”
“And your mother?”
“My mother is a healer by trade and by passion,” Angus said, before talking in detail about the quirks of his family until they settled down to rest and ea
t that evening.
The air was heavy with the threat of rainfall and though it did not fall, it was dense. Angus made sure to place them under a thick tree so that if it did, they would be partially protected. Faint rumbles of thunder were far off but sometimes they sounded near, making Magdalene tense at times.
The tales about Angus’ family made her feel as if she knew the people already and she was longing to meet them in person. They sounded like a wonderful, loving bunch and thinking of them made her heart ache for her own family. She sank into her makeshift bedding with the heaviness growing and her pain jabbing her heart with soft jagged lances.
Magdalene’s throat was thick and tears began rolling down her cheeks with thinking how her mother was probably suffering back home under her deceptive Uncle. The uncertainties of her future with her family back home, and even here in Scotland, were a thick cloud of unknown obscuring her next moves. Trying to stifle her tears, she muffled her face in the blanket below her but she was not able to be quiet for long.
She half expected it and half feared it when Angus would reach out for her but when he did grasp her arm and pull her up, she gladly pressed her face into his neck. He hauled her into his lap and there she sobbed quietly. His soft noises of comfort sounded a bit nonsensical but when small sparks of comprehension came to her, she realized he was speaking in Gaelic.
Her tears slowed and her breath evened out as she dared to look up at him. Her position only allowed her to see the square of his jaw and his ear. Angus spoke something in that lyrical language of his, only to cut it off halfway. He must have realized that she did not understand him so he spoke, “I’m sorry, what’s troubling ye, lass?”
“I…” should she tell him the truth or not? “I am worried about my Mother.” It was a half-truth but she preferred to say it than utter the rest. “I did not leave her in the best situation. My Uncle, who came to take over our family, is not the man we thought he was. Now that I’m gone, I cannot imagine what he is making my Mother do.”
“If yer Mother is a strong as ye,” Angus said. “I’d ken she can handle herself.”
His reassurance was soft but dug deep into her soul and she realized that he was speaking the truth, despite him not knowing the woman. Her mother had always had a steely strength about her, mostly from her faith Magdalene was sure, and having to deal with a warlord as a husband.
“I can only hope,” Magdalene breathed, pressing her forehead closer into Angus’ skin. He smelt of horseflesh, rainwater, and faintly of sweat. Angus’ arm tightened around her back and waist and his hold changed. It was now…possessive. “It’s just sad now, when she should be resting after all the hardships Father put her through. Father spent more time with his war chiefs than with her.”
“Me Faither did so, too,” Angus said and she felt his hand curve more around her. “Until Mother demanded he spent time with me, me brother, and Ailsa. He took me and Malcolm hunting and made an effort to play dolls with Ailsa until she told him she wanted to fence instead. Ye could have seen his relief from the peak of the Skydehow mountains.”
The mention of his sister gave her a reprieve from her angst. “The more you speak about your sister, the more I want to meet her.”
“Ye will,” Angus hummed and the rumble in his chest was gentle. She liked feeling that deep growling tone. Her sorrow was gone but Angus did not seem inclined to let her go and Magdalene let him. Settling into his arms felt right, and how he pulled her in tight felt so good. She could happily fall asleep there but knew it was not right so she tried to pull away, fighting the instinct to stay.
Angus’ hold grew tighter and she looked up to him in question. His eyes were on hers now and she could barely see the blue of them from the night around them. “Angus?”
His free hand came up and closed around the back of her neck, pressing her back. “Yer safe here, lass. It’s no bother if ye want to rest against me.”
“Why?” She asked, and this time it was not hinted with ungratefulness, it was quizzical.
He laughed self-deprecatingly, “Because I am selfish man, lass, I like having ye near me. I like holding ye. If ye are comfortable with me, that is.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest and she smiled against his neck. “I am comfortable with you and I’m sorry for my actions a few days ago. I could see—” she breathed in, hoping she was right in saying the next words, “—that you wanted to kiss me. I cannot explain what I was thinking… especially since what had nearly happened to me.”
He chuckled, “No apologies needed, lass. I wasnae lying when I said ye were beautiful. Ye are. Any man with eyes in his head can see that.”
Wanting to tell him that she had never been kissed before and getting the strength to do so were two different things. The words formed on the tip of her tongue but they did not pass her lips as fear clamped them tight. Maybe it was for the best. She did not know much about Angus. What if he had a wife at home or a woman poised to be his wife?
“And you,” she surprised herself by asking. “Do you have a lady in your life? A wife?”
The last words felt sour in her mouth. What was she expecting to get by asking that question? An excuse to push myself away from him?
Or was it an incentive to push away the rest of her lingering reticence and go closer to him? Which was it? With those questions warring inside her, she did not dare look at him again. How was it then that Angus seemed to press her closer when she felt there was no space between them?
“No, lass,” he said with a hint of wry sadness. “I have neither. An irregularity I can tell ye. Most of me clan’s men are married by five-and-twenty…well, except for my dobber brother who is eight-and-twenty. I’m thirty years old without a wife.”
She shouldn’t feel happy about that—the man sounded sad for God’s sake—but she did and felt horrible about it the next moment. She cringed at her un-Christian feelings. “I’m… sorry?”
“Dinnae be,” he shrugged. “I’m too busy these days to even consider finding a wife. Caring for me clan is me first obligation. Me personal life can come after.”
Magdalene was silent as no words could come to her mind. The air between them was not heavy and eventually, she decided to not say anything at all. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off with the soft feel of Angus’ heartbeat a subtle lullaby. His body heat, radiating from his fit, sturdy body was a cocoon around her. She did not want to part when dawn came but had to pry herself away. It was getting too comfortable being close to Angus, and frightening, too.
“We’ll be near Glen Urquhart soon,” Angus said after she had finished her breakfast. “We can buy more food there.”
“Glen Urquhart,” she said contemplatively. “And from there we’ll go your home.”
“Aye,” Angus confirmed. “It shouldnae take us more than a day or so.”
Bravely, Magdalene decided to repay Angus’ favor and began speaking about her home. How it was to grow up with a warlord as a father and a woman who trusted her faith than anything and anyone. She told him how lonely her childhood had been with her main mode of socialization being mass at church.
She told him that the best memories of her father were when she had been a child and her father had held her on his lap, reciting stories to her so she could sleep, and the other times when her mother would take her into the kitchen to bake sweet breads for the feast after Eucharist on Easter Sunday.
As she spoke, she found the pent-up emotions in her chest were easing. That evening they settled down in a clearing. Angus was not happy with the open spaces but it was the best they could do. He built a large fire, big enough to dismay predators from nearing them. Magdalene laid close enough to the fire, appreciating the warmth that buffeted the cold air that flew easily over the large clearing.
“Ach,” Angus sighed settling near to her. “I suddenly find myself craving a cuppa tea. I’ve gotten soft, lass. Eight years ago, on the training fields, I could have gone days without a drop of warmness inside me. I was traine
d to survive on the barest measures. Now, I’ve gotten spoiled.”
His mention of tea made her stomach grumble. Honestly, she had felt the same as she had grown up with those comforts all her life. In an effort to not look weak, she had not mentioned it but it was still there, lingering under her skin. “I’d like that, too.”
Angus took his blanket and handed it to her. Magdalene's eyes shot up to his. “You’ll be cold.”
The slow smile she was beginning to love came out again. “I’ve survived worse, lass.”
Taking it, her fingers brushed his and a soft shiver ran through her. “Thank you.”
Laying down, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stared up at the bejeweled sky. The stars were so bright out in the wilderness. They shimmered with a silver shine the purest ore on earth could never compare to.
“Angus,” she asked. “Are there any stories about your people in the skies? Do your people have Gods or Goddesses up there?”
The Highlander's Fiery Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 8
