Morwenna set the tray on top of one of the hay bales where it was more difficult for Snaffles to reach. “Sounds like my husband! I hope ye both managed to get some sleep.”
There were dark circles under Morwenna’s eyes and Magnus doubted thatshehad gotten much sleep. Or the other villagers for that matter.
“Aye,” he replied. “Ye have my thanks for all yer help, Morwenna.”
She waved his thanks away. “If we Highlanders canna help each other at times like this then what has become of us?”
Magnus nodded. That shared sense of responsibility and care was the Highland way and without it, none of them could survive the harsh conditions that their land threw at them.
Isabelle took a piece of bread and asked, “What will you do now?”
Morwenna shrugged. “We will repair, rebuild, and go on. What else is there to do? There is much to keep us busy.Food to be prepared for those who canna cook for themselves, injuries to be tended, bairns to be taken care of, timbers to be prepared for rebuilding. It will be a busy few weeks to come.”
“I’ll send word to the Order,” Magnus said. “See if some men can be spared to come help with the rebuilding. We’ll try to increase patrols too.”
Morwenna nodded. “Ye are a good, lad, and I appreciate that. But the Order canna be everywhere at once, despite what hotheads like Drew might claim. Until we find out who is behind these attacks and put a stop to them, I fear there will be more villages who suffer what we have.”
Magnus ground his teeth in frustration, knowing she was right and hating how helpless he felt to do anything about it. Well, starting today hewoulddo something about it and it began with him and Isabelle finding a blacksmith.
He glanced at Isabelle, taking in her clinging trews, bright yellow boots and odd coat. With the chaos of yesterday, few people would have taken note of the strange attire, but that would not last once they traveled to more densely settled parts. If they were to have a hope of reaching Dun Saith safely, then Isabelle needed to blend in.
“I would ask another favor of ye, Morwenna,” he said. “Do ye have a change of clothes ye could spare for Isabelle?”
Morwenna raised a brow. “I noticed how strangely ye are dressed, my dear,” she said to Isabelle. “I didnae want to ask, but—”.
“I’m English,” Isabelle blurted, as though that explained everything.
Morwenna nodded, accepting the explanation. “Ah, I see. English, eh? Well, I reckon we’ll be able to find something to fit ye. Ye look about the same size as my daughter.”
“Thank you, Morwenna,” Isabelle said, smiling gratefully at the older woman.
Morwenna nodded and left, leaving Magnus and Isabelle alone.
“How are your injuries this morning?” she asked.
“Not hurting a bit.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” She opened her pack, took out some more of those painkiller things she’d given him yesterday and held them out.
Magnus gave a wry smile and reached out to take them. As he did so, his fingers brushed hers and almost involuntarily he found himself tightening his grip for a second. She looked up at him and he swore he saw heat in her gaze before she pulled her hand back, leaving the little white pills in his palm.
“Take them with water,” she murmured. “They’ll make you feel better.”
Then she hurried out the door.
IZZY SUCKED THE STILLmorning air deep into her lungs. It was only just dawn, and the air was cold and biting. Yet it carried a certain freshness that Izzy found invigorating as she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. The feeling of Magnus’s strong fingers around hers lingered and she forced herself to concentrate on her surroundings.
Across the yard stood Morwenna and Able’s house, and beyond that the village. The undamaged part looked like something out of a Constable painting, with its timber-and-thatch buildings and hens pecking about. But the other part would only look like a Constable painting if he’d been in the habit of painting burned-out villages.
And it was no painting. It was real. Magnus came to stand next to her. He said nothing and just stood staring out at the new morning. Snaffles seated himself by Magnus’s feet.
“Did you take the painkillers?” Izzy asked.
“I did. My thanks, lass.” He continued staring out at the village.
She wondered what he was thinking. This must be strange for him too, having her land in his lap with no warning, but his expression concealed his thoughts. His hair was a tousled mess, the dark curls filled with bits of straw, and he could do with a shave. But rather than making him look scruffy, it made him look even more attractive, in a rugged sort of way.
There was a quiet strength to this giant Highlander. He exuded an air of authority and confidence that was difficult to miss, yet there was kindness too, evident in his interactions with Snaffles and with Morwenna. And with her.
