Begin Where We Are

by Knightley, Diana

  He searched my face for a moment and then settled his head back down. “Nothing, I just thought I heard the name before.”

  “Oh, well Tyler hangs out with the group now all the time. He’s infuriating. You’ll see. He tells me how to do everything like I’m a big idiot. Though he was the one who told me about the storms in Scotland over the ruins of Castle Talsworth.”

  “A turning point for us.”

  “True, I just hope it turned us in a good direction.”

  “I think so. I think every night we share a bed is a good night, Kaitlyn. We will survive the time we spent away from each other.”

  “How do you know it?”

  “I ken it here.” He brushed his finger along my lip. “Because when ye talk tae me of our friends I can hear it in your voice — ye are fillin’ with hope. You will guide us forward. I daena ken what will happen next but I verra much want ye speakin’ tae me through it.”

  A tear flowed from my eye, down his fingers to my curled fist.

  “I daena want tae ruin the evenin’ but all this talkin’ has worn me out.”

  “Do you need the machine?”

  “Nae, I think that part is behind me.”

  Chapter 49

  Everyone was preparing for the festival. The castle was bustling with preparations. The fields were full of men bringing in the harvest. Magnus took a long turn watching at the walls, and I spent that time with Lizbeth but then he came to the nursery later. “Good afternoon Lizbeth, might I take Kaitlyn for a time?”

  He was so formal it sort of took my breath away.

  I rose and followed him to the hall. “I wanted tae walk tae the stables and see the horses. And I wanted ye tae go with me.”

  “Of course.” He held out a hand and we walked through the halls, side by side, my hand in his. Near the bottom of the steps he paused. “Here.”

  “What is here?”

  “Here is where I tried tae get under your skirts so long ago. Remember that night?”

  I smiled at the memory of his fumbling desire. “I do.”

  We began to walk again across the wide foyer and through the courtyard. The sky was high and blue with tufts of clouds rolling across it. Brisk and cool, but a beautiful day all the same. I tucked my other hand around his elbow and held tight to his arm as we traveled across a wide field.

  “We aren’t going to the stables?”

  “Nae, twas just a ruse tae get ye tae come with me for a walk.” Without letting go of my hand he wrapped a strong arm around me and pulled me to his front.

  We were very close, almost nose to nose, he looking down at me. I looked up into his eyes. “Hello, mo reul-iuil.”

  “Hi.”

  “You needed some warm sun on ye.”

  His face was just right there, so close. I said, “I did. It feels good.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  I closed my eyes. Warm sun on my face, my husband’s breath on my cheek. I peeked up and his eyes were closed too. His head bowed over me holding me securely around the back. I closed my eyes again and relaxed onto his arm and breathed deeply. I breathed in the scent of the field grasses in the sun — a smell almost like warm bread. There was also the scent of the woods farther along, pine tree and soil, and Magnus with the scent of the world here — woods and castle and wool. His head lowered and the stubble beard he had been growing for the past four days lightly pressed to my temple.

  His breath in my ear.

  I pressed closer, up, toward him.

  And his voice from deep inside rising up to vibrate to my ear. “I have missed ye.”

  I breathed that in and held it deep inside wrapping around my lungs, filling the spaces that had been so empty for so long.

  My hand reached up to steady his face and to pull his lips closer, but I peeked. The images flashed through my mind — images of terror and pain and gore and — I clamped my eyes tight and pressed my forehead to his cheek. Then I tucked my head against his chest and the spell was broken.

  He released my arm and we both stepped away from each other. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m trying. I really am.”

  I looked at the ground, the woods, the far castle, anywhere but at him. His brow furrowed.

  “What is happening tae us, Kaitlyn?”

  “I don’t know, I just…”

  He watched my face. “You just…?”

  “I need more time to trust you.”

  “Aye.”

  I was so pissed at myself.

  He shook his head. “Ye haena forgiven me yet.”

  “I have. I mean, I understand and I…” My voice trailed off.

  He looked away at the horizon and then back at me. “I am sorry, Kaitlyn. I am sorry that I canna tell ye in the right way so that ye ken what I mean. I love ye. I dinna mean tae break ye. I wanted tae save your life.”

  I watched his face as he spoke. There was pain there. Sadness and despair. It wasn’t the face of a liar. I had seen enough of those.

  I wrapped my arms around his injured chest, mindful of his hurt ribs, and tucked my head there. I nodded. And I gingerly held on.

  I felt his strength. His arms wrapped around my back. His cheek pressed the top of my head.

  The more I held him the more I felt loved. Until finally, my voice muffled against his chest, I said, “I know. I understand. I do.”

  “Ye have forgiven me then?”

  I nodded, rubbing my tears into the linen of his shirt. “Yes, I do, I forgive you, but I don’t know how to get back there from here. I’m scared that I don’t know.”

  “I daena ken either, mo reul-iuil, I was countin’ on ye for the guidance.”

  He pulled up my chin to meet my lips. I shook my head and pulled away. “We’ll figure it out.” I pushed the hair from my eyes. “We will, we’ll figure it out.”

  He didn’t say anything. He held out his hand and I took it and we walked some more ignoring what had just happened — I couldn’t kiss my husband.

  I didn’t want to.

  And I was really really worried about that.

  The long hours holding hands with him, watching him do the work of gentling me back to him. It was filling my heart with love. Because Lizbeth had been wrong about that — it wasn’t me that needed to do the gentling. It was Magnus.

  And he was doing it.

  But though I had forgiven him in my heart, I couldn’t stop my mind.

  My mind kept reliving that feeling of being abandoned, and that struggle, that crime, that brutal death by my hands. The blood on them.

  And the woman in his arms.

  There was not enough soap in the eighteenth century to clean up this mess.

  Not enough showers.

  Maybe when we went home and I cleaned some more...

  Chapter 50

  Dinner was spare that evening. Quentin appeared carrying a plate with a small pile of congealed pudding, and said, as he sat down, “I haven’t seen one Ferris wheel for this festival, not one. And no Tilt-a-Whirl. As far as I can tell they’re baking a lot of bread. Loaves and loaves of bread.”

  Magnus said, “There will be a lot of bread.”

  “Well, good, because I’m hungry. I miss Zach’s cooking.”

  “Aye, me too, will be good tae go home.” He leaned in to kiss me on my cheek.

  I leaned away. What the hell, Katie?

  His brow furrowed. He said, “Kaitlyn, we need tae—”

  Sean approached and interrupted, “I’ve been meanin’ tae speak tae ye, Brother.”

  “You have a serious look.”

  “You said ye daena want your throne.” He sat down in the chair beside Magnus.

  Magnus chuckled, shaking his head. “Ye got that from my story?”

  “Aye, I got that. But there’s a problem in your words, Young Magnus. You are forgettin’ the truth of it — the king who winna take his throne is a dead king. I daena want tae see ye gone so soon.”

  Magnus put his hand over mine, protectively, but oh my god, the though
t of him on the ground, bloody, dead, hit me hard — begging for help, my hands covered in blood, strangers backing away from the sight of me. Tears welled up and I pulled my hand from under his.

  Magnus’s eyes cut to the side of my face.

  Sean asked, “Who is contestin’ it?”

  “Everyone, but Uncle Samuel is the biggest concern. He has likely already staked a claim on it.”

  “Aye ye mentioned he was the one ye feared was coming. I tell ye, Brother, it daena sit well tae have ye in hidin’ while lesser men take what is yours. Whether ye want it or not.” He put a fist beside Magnus’s place setting. “I will protect ye. Your family will protect ye, but I urge ye tae reconsider. The only way Samuel will ken ye are nae comin’ for your throne is if ye are dead. He will want tae make certain ye are so, daena give him a chance.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.”

  “But I am still takin’ Kaitlyn to the Island.” Magnus’s face was solemn as he raised his glass and after a moment of shaking his head Sean raised his glass too.

  Sean left. Quentin was deep in conversation with a group of men. Magnus asked, “You are being verra quiet, mo reul-iuil.”

  I took a deep breath. “This is really hard.”

  He put his hand out for mine.

  I looked down at my own, clasped in my lap.

  “You said ye have forgiven me?”

  I nodded.

  “But still ye arna comfortable with me?”

  “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with anything anymore. I don’t know what to do about it.” I looked away.

  Chapter 51

  When we walked upstairs for bed, the stairwell was dark, though it was still pretty bright outside, maybe nine at night.

  Magnus seemed thoughtful. We passed that spot where he fumbled with my skirt so long ago without any mention of it. I was worried about that fact. Maybe we had passed the point of no return.

  We stopped along the way to pee in the garderobe at the end of our floor. He waited outside for me and then I waited outside for him.

  And then we went to our bedroom.

  He sat on the bed. “Turn around so I may undo your laces.”

  I stood in front of him, pulled my hair to the side, and he worked at them for a few minutes. “Take off your belt,” he said and I unclasped the buckle. I pulled it free and the big skirt dropped in a puff around the bottom hem of my shift. A moment later he had the end of the laces loosened. He helped push the bodice down to the floor and gave me a hand so I could step from it.

  “I can’t believe it’s not freezing. This is new.” I climbed across the bed and under the covers on my side. I waited for him to join me expecting a lot of the same of what we had been doing.

  Magnus watched me, his brow drawing down. His eyes squinted in thought. “What dost ye take me for Kaitlyn?”

  “Oh, um, my husband?”

  “There isna a question about it. I am your husband.”

  “True.”

  “I am weary of watchin’ ye pull away. You daena ken what ye are about. You are keeping’ the battle in your heart and in your mind and ye have brought it into the walls of our home with ye. I daena blame ye for it, but ye canna keep it here. The battle is over Kaitlyn, it has been won. Ye can let it go.”

  He grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up his body and with a grimace pulled it above his head — muscle-bound arms, shoulders, his abs — holy shit, Kaitlyn — He dropped his shirt to the side.

  “I don’t want you to take it off because of the—”

  “I daena care what ye think of my shoulder, Kaitlyn. I have a battle scar. Are ye goin’ tae hate the sight of me for it?”

  He stared at me long. “You said ye have forgiven me for it. Isna that what ye said?”

  “Yes…”

  He stood in front of me big and powerful and really incredibly hot. “You have a battle scar and I daena blame ye for it.”

  “It’s different.”

  “Tis nae different. Twas death or fight. Twas the same for ye?”

  I nodded.

  “Come stand before me.”

  “No.”

  “Aye, ye will Kaitlyn. You ought tae listen tae me and do as I say.”

  “I don’t ‘ought’ to do anything. I’ll leave. I’ll run out of here.”

  “You winna. Because ye are tied tae me and ye daena have anywhere tae go.”

  I huffed, threw the covers off, and crawled across the bed. With as much drama as I could emote I swung my legs down in front of him but continued to sit.

  “Are ye afraid of me, Kaitlyn?” He towered over me. His voice was stern. I had every reason to be afraid of him, but —

  “No, I’m not.”

  His chest rose and fell with his breath. “Why nae? Since I have seen ye last I have killed three men. I did it with decision and satisfaction. The first man I killed with a cut. The last man I bludgeoned. And ye arna afraid of me, Kaitlyn?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why nae?”

  “Because I know you love me, and you would never hurt me.”

  “And why would I kill those men?”

  “Because you had to. Or you would die. And I’m glad you didn’t die.”

  “Aye. But still ye are pullin’ away from me.”

  “I don’t really understand why. I just need some more time.”

  “You daena.” He unbuckled his belt. “By my accounts it has been a long year for ye without me. You daena need more time.” He dropped the belt to the side. “Did ye choose tae bed another man, Kaitlyn?”

  “No.”

  His kilt dropped to the ground. “So I think it has been time long enough. Ye are probably parched.”

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. “I had toys.”

  “I ken these toys ye speak of, I believe ye still missed me.”

  “I did, I really did, I just need—”

  “I winna have ye argue with me on this Kaitlyn. We have wasted too much of our time already. Stand before me.”

  I looked down at my hands. “It’s just that I — I’m dealing with a lot, my hands, I killed him — and —”

  “Stand before me Kaitlyn. I winna ask again.”

  “Jesus Christ, Magnus, you’re being kind of a dick.” I stood up in front of him.

  He was naked. I was clothed, a shift that went from my shoulders to my ankles, a big giant muumuu. His cock stretched between us and I was trying to ignore the fact though also quite amazed by it, actually. By him. And kind of overwhelmed by his power and also super hot for his power. Really. Totally.

  He stared down at me. I stared up. “Should I be afraid of ye, Kaitlyn?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t meet his eyes.

  “By my accounts ye could kill me in two ways. Ye could do it in the traditional way. Ye could draw a blade on me and send me tae God. Or ye could look me in the eye and tell me ye daena love me anymore, ye could keep pullin’ away. Are ye plannin’ tae kill me, Kaitlyn?”

  “I’m not planning it, no, I just—”

  Very slowly he lowered himself to the ground. He groaned, and with what looked like a lot of pain knelt on one knee.

  “What are you doing, Magnus?”

  He bowed his head forward and rested it on my hip bone. “You could kill me. You have it within your power tae. Should I be afraid of ye, Kaitlyn?”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  His forehead was against the fabric of my shift, reminding me of the hospital bed, a year ago. Ye ken I have tae go?

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Without knowing what I was saying I begged, “Don’t go, please don’t go. I need you.”

  His voice came from the fabric of my shift. “I ken ye need me. I need ye too. And I winna go anywhere not anymore. Stop pulling away from me.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Ye daena have tae be afraid of me, we already established this.” He put his hands on my hips and began bunching the linen up in his fists. I tried
to keep it down, but not really trying, just kind of overwhelmed by the fact that it was coming up. He pulled it slowly and methodically until the front of it was bunched to my waist. He pressed his forehead to the pleats of the fabric holding it high, looking down at the naked bottom half of me.

  “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

  I did.

  I looked down through my tears at the wide strong back bowed before me. I rubbed my palms along the curve and wrapped them around edge of his shoulders and down the front where they curved to the ground.

  I faltered at the spot, now fading, but once a bruise — teeth had touched here.

  “I wish it was dark, it would be easier.”

  He adjusted so he was on both knees, his hands wrapped around me and he spoke into the skin of my stomach. His lips wet, his breath warm. “We arna used tae easy. Tis impossible tae expect it.” His hands ran along my hips and cupped my buttocks and pulled me closer. His lips pressed to me. He ran his hands down the back of my thighs and back up and around my ass again and I was beginning to lose my will to resist.

  A hand trailed around my hip and found its way between my legs and fingers searched and stroked up and then in. “You are verra wet, mo reul-iuil, ye want me—” I was unable to keep track of what he was actually saying. My hands clasped the back of his head and pulled him closer, oh closer, while his fingers dove and played.

  “Take off your shift, Kaitlyn.”

  “I don’t—”

  He looked up at me with a sweaty brow, glazed eyes, that out-of-your-head look of desire. “I winna argue with ye about this, take it off. I canna raise my arms high enough tae struggle with ye over it.”

  I pulled the shift up and over and off.

  “Lie down and spread your legs.”

  “What—?“

  He stood with a grimace and planted himself in front of me. So close, his face looking down on mine, breathing, wanting, chest heaving. “Daena argue with me. I am your husband and I am returned from battle and ye should spread your legs and welcome me home.”

  “Are you serious with—”