His fingers came up absently, brushing against the eyepatch, hating the way he looked now because of the choices he had made in his life. For a long time, he had told himself he deserved it, but these days he was not so sure of that.
“That was five years ago,” he continued. “We had the odd disagreement over the followin’ few years, but eventually, he lost interest or got tired of it. Who kens? He hasnae troubled me since. But he must have heard of our weddin’ and traveled all night to stop it. He’ll never forgive me for what happened to her.”
“But he has no proof that it was you. In fact, he must know now that it wasn’t you.”
Magnus shook his head. “He may be less inclined to blame me now that he kens Elizabeth was with child, but he still blames me. I should have protected her, that’s what a husband’s duty is, but she was alone and defenseless.”
When he finally looked across at her, he was astonished to see that she had scrawled pages of notes. More words than he could possibly have said. In fact, Magnus could not remember having talked for so long with anyone in years.
He looked up at her and found her sharp features scrunched up in concentration. Black ink covered her thumb and forefinger as she wrote feverishly across the page.
“It cannae be that much work, lass,” he said, squinting at the neat loops of her handwriting. “I havenae barely said a thing.”
He peered at the paper but had no hope of reading it upside down.
“I am not just writing about the fight,” she replied, distracted.
“Well, what then?” he asked, perturbed by the amount she was writing.
She looked up at him, her gaze respectful and solemn. “I am writing about your grief and his. You cannot be the greatest laird in the Highlands if you do not feel anything. So I will write a little about Elizabeth if you will allow me to. I think she was a good influence on you.”
Magnus stared at her, at a loss for what to say. “Ye didnae ken her,” he pointed out as a lump formed in his throat.
“I do not need to have known her—I can hear your regard for her in your voice.” Leah raised a hand as he was about to protest. “It is a good thing, Magnus. I confess I did not like the thought of her memory when I first arrived, and I like it even less as your wife, but she was a person who you cared for, and that should not be erased from history.” She stood up, giving him a smile. “Ithink I have enough to work with. I must say, a non-fiction story has been a lovely break from mermaids and dragons.”
“Ye said that was in the stories ye gave to yer faither, for Timothy,” he said. “Have you written him many stories?”
“Oh, dozens. He has a very active imagination and loves anything with a monster in it. I’ve been writing him stories since I was little. My father used to confiscate my inkpot to punish me—he realized it was the easiest way to get me to behave.”
The words were said lightly, but as she spoke, her eyes dimmed.
Magnus rose, muttering a curse. “He kens how to make the world do as he pleases.”
“Mmm,” Leah murmured. “He is a man, after all.”
Magnus could not help laughing at that. “Aye. Ye have told me before.”
Leah grinned up at him, her whole face lighting up in that way of hers, and Magnus smiled back.
“Come, lass,” he said decisively. “I have somethin’ I wish to show ye.”
CHAPTER 21
“Areyou leading me to my death?” came Leah’s amused voice from behind him as they ascended yet another spiral staircase.
Even Magnus was feeling a little uneasy. The towers in this part of the castle were rarely used, and the torches had not been lit up.
He should probably have waited to show her, but he was too excited. He loved the way she looked when she spoke of her writing—it was as though all of her troubles and worries melted away.
“What day is it?” he asked.
“It is Thursday. Why?” she asked curiously.
“Ah, we only ever throw maidens from the tower on a Sunday, so ye are safe.”
Her tinkling laugh was the best sound in the world to him as they finally got to the top of the stairs, their way barred by the thick oak door at the top.
Magnus had ordered that it should be left unlocked, and he was glad he had done so; he was breathing heavily and didn’t want to have to go all the way downstairs to fetch a servant with the keys.
