“Bastard.” Munro came at him. There was little room to move about, and both men knew it would come down to the first few blows. Munro’s missed. Magnus’s didn’t.
Munro’s weakness was his arrogance and aggressiveness. As Magnus anticipated, the other man went on the immediate attack. He was waiting. As the blade came toward him, he sidestepped at the last minute. Turning, he jabbed his elbow into Munro’s nose. If Munro had space to retreat it would not have been as deadly a mistake. But he had nowhere to go. Magnus used the moment of distraction to insert his blade right through the mail and into his gut.
Munro slumped against him in shock. Magnus held him there until his body went limp. Tossing him to the side, he saw MacGregor do the same with his man, and then followed Sutherland, who was ahead of them, into the king’s chamber.
It was dark.
Fearing the worst, he tore open the shutters, allowing moonlight to spill into the chamber.
His gaze scanned the chamber. No body. Nothing.What the hell?
“Where is he?” MacGregor asked, voicing Magnus’s question.
Suddenly they heard a loud thump as someone dropped from the fireplace. “Right here,” Bruce said. He turned around to help someone down.
Magnus’s stomach dropped as he recognized the light blue of a gown. The light blue of the gown Helen had been wearing earlier.
Oh, Jesus. “Helen?” His voice was filled with the same sick disbelief churning in his stomach.
“Helen?” Sutherland echoed at his side.
“Damn it, what are you doing here?” Magnus said.
The king gave him a sharp look. “Coming to my rescue. Again,” he added to Helen with a wink.
She blushed.
Magnus listened with blood pounding in his ears as the king explained—with a few clarifications from Helen—how Helen had been returning to her chamber when she’d heard the men coming up the garderobe. She’d come back to warn the king, but not wanting to alert the attackers to their location, she’d had the idea of throwing items out of the king’s window to alert the guards. Then, to give them more time, they’d blown out all the candles, tried to clear the room of all traces of the king, and she’d found a hiding place in the fireplace. It didn’t look large enough to hold one person, let alone two.
“Clever of her, wasn’t it?” the king said with another smile. “I would never have thought of it.”
Magnus might have appreciated the irony of their game coming to such good use, might have been impressed, and might have been proud of her, if he could see anything but the red haze in front of his eyes. When he thought of the danger…how close she’d been…
Helplessness. Rage. Panic. He felt like killing someone all over again. He tried to rein in his temper, but patience eluded him. For the second—third?—time in the space of a week, he’d nearly lost her.
His instinct was to sweep her into his arms and never let her go. He took a step toward her, but then stopped, remembering. Wait. Hehadlost her. She’d refused him.
Their eyes caught. A fierce surge of emotion passed between them, but it was too tangled and confused for him to decipher. All it did was make the hole in his chest deepen and burn hotter.
She turned back to the king. “I believe I shall retire. I’ve much to do before tomorrow.”
She was hiding it well, but Magnus knew she wasn’t as calm as she appeared. Her hand trembled at her side before she caught it with a clench of her skirts.
“Wait, I will escort you,” he offered.
“That won’t be necessary.”
His mouth hardened. “There are men outside.” He paused. “One of them is Munro.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she said.
“I see.”
“I’ll take you,” Sutherland said.
Helen seemed to take notice of him for the first time. Her too-red lips drew in a thin line and her blue eyes flashed in anger. “I’m dead to you, remember?”
Sutherland shot Magnus a black glare. “Does that mean you’ve decided to marry him?”
