“Aye, I came anyway.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step closer, the space between them growing smaller. Izzy had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
“Because I had to. Because I fear that everything that’s happening here, everything Lord McRae is doing to these people, is because of me.”
She shook her head. “That makes no sense. How can any of this be your fault?”
“That doesnae matter,” he said, his voice rough. “What matters is that ye are safe. Isabelle, I dinna want to send ye away because I think ye’re weak or incapable... I need to send ye away because the thought of anything happening to ye terrifies me. Ye deserve better than the dangers I can offer.”
“Then come with me!” she said. “Give up this mission of yours and come to Dun Saith. We can all ride there tomorrow.”
He took another step closer, taking up the space that separated them until they were only a breath apart. She could feel the warmth coming from him, could hear his shallow breaths and see the pulse ticking in his throat.
Something shone in his eyes, a longing, a hope. But then the shutters came down and he stepped back. “I canna do that. I have to see this through to the end.”
Isabelle felt a hot sting of tears but she blinked them back rapidly. She wasnotgoing to cry. Not here and certainly not in front of Magnus.
If she’d wanted confirmation of his true feelings, this was it. He’d promised to take her to Dun Saith, but he was willing to break that promise for the sake of his mission. It was clear where his priorities lay. She was an idiot to think otherwise.
“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “I don’t think there’s any more to say, is there? Good night, Magnus.”
Without waiting for his response, she patted Snaffles goodnight then turned on her heel and walked out of the dimly lit stable. She didn’t look back. Once back in herroom, she leaned against the door and let herself slide down until she was sitting on the cold stone floor, her arms wrapped around her knees.
A choice is coming, my dear and it will lead ye to a path ye’d never thought to tread. Will ye be the woman who let fear hold her back, or will ye be the woman who saw through the fog and dared to journey to her destiny?
Destiny? There was no such thing. Despite what Irene MacAskill might think, she’d chosen her path long ago. She was Isabelle Ross. Play-it-safe-Isabelle Ross who liked routine and predictability. It was time to remember who she was. Time to stop thinking she was somebody else, somebody who took it in her stride when she was tossed back in time, somebody who might be able to make a life for herself so far away from everything she knew.
Somebody Magnus Kerr might feel something for.
No. It was time to go home.
MAGNUS WATCHED ISABELLEwalk away, the lantern light emphasizing the tense set of her shoulders. “Good night, Isabelle,” he said softly, even though she was already out of earshot.
He sighed deeply, feeling a tumultuous mix of regret and resolve, of longing and duty. He looked down at Snaffles who’d resumed his spot, surveying him with wise eyes. He reached out absently, patting the dog’s head.
The silent barn was slowly becoming unbearable, the ghosts of their conversation echoing off the wooden wallsthat seemed to close in around him. He’d come here to make things right between them but he’d only made them worse. He’d never been good with words. And now, when he’d needed them the most, they’d deserted him.
He’d hurt Isabelle, and that was the last thing he’d wanted to do.So why don’t you stay?a voice whispered in his head.Why don’t you do what she asked and go to Dun Saith with her? Why don’t you give up this obsession? Isn’t she worth it?
The thoughts were dangerously close to the words Emeric had spoken earlier. Whatwasmore important to him? Isabelle? Or his mission?
With a cry of frustration, he heaved the stable door open, sending it crashing against the wall with a bang loud enough to shake the stable and make the horses snort and stamp nervously in their stalls.
The two stable lads who were grooming a horse out in the yard, paled when they saw him. Magnus paid them no attention. That look of fear was something he was used to. Only his sword-brothers saw him as something other than hired muscle.
And Isabelle. From the first, she’d not been afraid of him. From the first she’d seen something in him, something that made her trust him, put herself in his hands. And then she’d kissed him...
Magnus stuttered to a halt in the yard, staring at the back door to the boarding house. She was in there. It would be so easy to walk through that door, go up to her room, and let all the things he’d been aching to say come spilling from his lips. Oh, how he wanted that. He wanted it so much that he felt it tugging at him like a hooklodged deep in his heart.
But he didn’t move.
Something else was pulling at him too, something buried even more deeply, something that had been festering inside him for so long that it had fused into his very bones.
He growled under his breath, turned away from the boarding house, and exited through the stable yard and into the street beyond. It was dark now, and the settlement was lit only by a few candles burning through the windows of the modest houses. It didn’t matter. Magnus knew exactly where he was going.
He moved quickly and silently through the streets of Torloch. He made no attempt at stealth and the few people that were out and about took one look at his expression and quickly scurried out of his way. A hot, smoldering anger had lit deep in his belly and he did nothing to try to stifle it.
