The king exchanged a glance with Magnus, and Helen realized the time was getting late. The midday meal had already started, and she still needed to change her dress. Will was going to be angry with her again, this time with cause.
She stood. “I should be going.”
The king stopped her. “What about tomorrow?”
Her mouth twitched.
“You didn’t think I’d forget.”
“Hardly,” she said dryly. He’d been asking her every day for nearly a week. “Tomorrow you may take a turn outside. For an hour—no longer.”
Bruce laughed. “I think I should prefer to have that old priest back. He was much less of a tyrant.”
Helen smiled sweetly. “He’s eager to bleed you again, if you’d like me to—”
“Nay! An hour, no more, I promise. Your enforcer will see to it.” He shot Magnus a glare. “Although I seem to remember you giving your oath tome.”
Magnus didn’t blink. “Seeing that Lady Helen’s instructions are followed ensures I have an oath to keep.”
The king shook his head. “You are quite a pair.” Her chest twisted. They were. Why wouldn’t he see it? “I know when I’m outnumbered.” The king gave her a look. “But I won’t give up. I feel better than I have in years and intend to be rid of this bed by the end of the week. We’ve delayed our journey and intruded on your hospitality long enough.”
The stab in her chest intensified. They couldn’t leave. Not until she’d convinced Magnus to give her another chance.
But maybe he would never be convinced. Maybe she’d been deluding herself. Maybe the passion she sensed behind the impassive facade was only wishful thinking. Maybe she’d been right all those years ago. Maybe he didn’t feel that way about her at all.
Her chest squeezed. Was that it? Did he not care for her anymore?
Nay. Magnus was the most steadfast man she knew—as well as the most stubborn. It was her family and her marriage to William that were holding him back. How could she show him that loving her was not a betrayal of the man she’d barely known?
Discouraged nonetheless, Helen murmured her farewells and left the room. She’d closed the door behind her and taken a few steps down the stairs when she heard it open again. “Helen, wait.”
Her heart stopped just hearing his voice.
She turned. Magnus’s big form loomed on the stair above her, blocking the light, the air suddenly heavy and warm. He seemed to take up the entire stairwell. She was deeply conscious of the tight space. If she leaned forward a few inches her breasts would graze his…
She blushed.
Almost as if he could read her thoughts, he took a step back and pulled her back into the small corridor. “Thank you,” he said. “For all you’ve done for the king. The medicines, the meals, the ale,” he said, lifting a goblet that she hadn’t noticed.
Her senses had been otherwise occupied. Her nose with the warm masculine spice. Her eyes with the rough stubble along his jaw and the broad, muscular wall of chest that faced her. Her taste with the memory of his kiss. And her ears with the sharpness of her breath.
“You’ve nothing to thank me for,” she said unevenly. “The king is under our roof; it is my duty to care for him.”
“We both know you’ve gone well beyond your duty. I’ve noticed how you’ve personally seen to his meals. You didn’t need to do that.”
He trusted her. Helen felt a pang of conscience that she told herself was unwarranted. The change in diet was helping. There was no reason to suspect anything else.
“Bruce looks healthier than he has in years,” he added.
A wry smile turned her mouth. “I’m not sure the king shares your gratitude. He isn’t very fond of greenery.”
Magnus grinned, and it went straight to her heart. God, he was so handsome. She felt herself pulled by an invisible rope. They were alone, and she wanted him so desperately. She leaned toward him, her breasts brushing against the leather of hiscotun.
He was so warm. She remembered how it felt to have his arms around her and willed them to close around her again. “Magnus, I…”
He flinched; his muscles turned as rigid and cold as stone.
Instinctively, she pulled away. The visceral rejection stung.
