“He saved me, Oskar. He had no reason to help me, and yet he did. Though I know you are wary of him, I believe he is a good man. The only alternative I have is to marry the man my father has chosen for me. That would be a prison I cannot even contemplate. Magnus, at least, will look after me. He has made that very plain.”
Oskar nodded, his frown dissipating slightly as he faced the fire. “Daphne will never forgive ye, ye ken. She willnae see yer dress or be part of yer celebrations,” he said worriedly.
Leah laughed. “I know. She is going to be furious.”
“Furious?” Oskar scoffed, turning back to her and shaking his head. “I wasnae jestin’ when I said she might kill me in me bed for this.”
Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her friend was a formidable force.
Oskar walked across the room, opened the door, and checked that the corridor was clear before leaving, much to her amusement.
He turned back, his gaze landing on her with such deep affection and concern that she felt her heart leap in her chest. “If ye ever are in need of anythin’, ye send for me, is that understood?”
“I promise I will,” she replied, nodding earnestly, “If I am in need, you will be the first person I ask for,” she said quietly.
“I pray ye never do, lass. Get some sleep. Ye have a big day tomorrow.”
“Oskar?” she called as he moved to pull the door closed behind him. He turned back to her, looking puzzled. “I believed Daphne was mad to marry you, and I said some unkind things about your conduct at the time. I just want you to know that I’ve never been happier to see the life you’re building together.”
He grinned. “Dinnae let anyone dim that light of yers, Leah Anderson. Ye promise me that.”
CHAPTER 14
Magnus sat before the fire,watching the flames dance and crackle merrily. In his hands, he held a small witling knife and a length of wood, shavings littering the floor at his feet.
He could not remember when he had begun to carve shapes out of branches of wood, but it had been at a young age. His father had been a harsh taskmaster, never happy with his conduct or anything he did. Magnus found solace in working with his hands; it distracted his mind and calmed his thoughts.
Betty’s cane had been one of his earliest projects. He still loved looking at it whenever she was nearby. He had enjoyed the challenge of twisting the wood around the orb and watching it form as though molded from clay. Somehow, he saw the pattern before he began, and his hands carved it without real thought.
He barely needed to look at the wood to carve now, and of all days, today he was in need of a distraction.
Despite trying to quieten his thoughts, his mind was filled with memories of Elizabeth, their wedding day, and the happiness he had believed it would herald for his life. Instead, it had brought him nothing but misery, and now he was expected to wed for a second time.
“I willnae let ye meet the same fate,” he muttered, staring into the fire, thinking of Leah’s open expression, the light in her eyes, and that mop of hair he loved so much.
He looked down at the piece of wood in his hands and cursed inwardly as he recognized the form he had carved it into.
His large hands held up the piece, and he looked it over, holding it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Without looking at the wood, he had created a small carving of a woman with long, wavy hair. Even when he wished to distract himself from Leah, it appeared she was embedded in his thoughts.
He stood up, exasperated by his addled mind, and lifted his fist as though to throw the carving into the flames. Just as he was about to release it, however, a tentative tapping sounded at the door. He pocketed the piece instead and walked across the room to answer it.
Instead of Kenneth—who he had expected to find—Leah stood before him in the torchlight, her hand still raised as though about to knock again.
Magnus pulled the door wide open as her eyes darted about the room behind him, confirming that he was alone.
“Aye, lass?” he asked, uncertain whether she had come to argue or to call off the wedding. Her wide eyes were unsure and confused.
“I can’t sleep,” she said, her hands twitching at her sides.
She looked so small and vulnerable that Magnus felt his protective instincts kick in all over again.
“Get inside, there’s a draft,” he grunted and stepped back as she padded into the room.
She was wearing a long nightrobe that had once belonged to Betty. He recognized the silver thread running through it and the runes across the base. Betty must have lent it to her.
Magnus felt a jolt of unease as he recalled how few clothes Leah had for the weather and how cold she must have felt during her first few days in the castle.
“What do ye need?” he asked, closing the door against the brisk air of the corridor and looking her over.
