Chapter 28
The path narrowed as they climbed, winding through stands of pine and birch that filtered the fading sunlight into patterns of gold and shadow. Ada breathed in the clean air, letting it chase away the worry that had been building in her chest since she'd heard about the captured prisoner.
They rode in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before the trees opened up to reveal a small clearing. A spring bubbled up from between smooth rocks, forming a pool that reflected the amber sky.
The water was crystal clear, flowing over stones worn smooth by centuries of current.
"It's beautiful," Ada breathed, dismounting before Magnus could help her. She moved to the edge of the pool, knelt to trail her fingers through the water. "How did ye find this place?"
"Me faither showed me when I was a boy." Magnus swung down from his stallion, began loosening the girth. "He liked to come here tae think. Tae escape the demands of bein' laird fer a few hours."
"And ye've kept comin' back."
"Aye. Especially after Freydis died. I came here almost every day fer months." Magnus moved to sit on one of the larger rocks near the water's edge. "Tryin' tae make sense of what happened. Tryin' tae understand how I'd been so blind."
Ada rose, brushed off her skirts, and moved to sit beside him. "Ye told me she betrayed ye. That the bairn wasnae yers. But ye never explained why people think ye killed her."
"Because I let them think it." Magnus's voice was flat. "Because the truth was worse than the lie."
"How could the truth be worse?"
Magnus exhaled slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was distant, like he was reciting facts rather than reliving pain.
"Freydis seemed completely healthy. We'd argued that night—nae about anythin' important, just..
. small things. The kind of disagreements married people have.
I thought she was tired from the pregnancy, so I let it go.
Told her to rest and went tae me study." His hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
"I went tae check on her a few hours later and found her collapsed on the floor. She was still breathin', but barely."
Ada's hand found his, squeezed gently.
"Ye ken the rest. The bairn... there was so much blood, Ada.
I dinnae think I'll ever forget the sight of it.
" Magnus's voice cracked slightly. When he looked up at Ada, and the devastation in his eyes was almost unbearable.
"So I buried them. And when people asked what happened, I said naethin'. Let them assume what they wanted."
"But why let them think ye killed her?"
"Because if I had told them the truth—that me wife had betrayed me, that I was fool enough nae tae see it—I'd have looked weak.
Pathetic. And a laird cannae afford that, Ada.
Nae in front of his people." Magnus's jaw clenched.
"So I let them think I was a murderer. Let them fear me.
It was easier than admittin' I'd been used. "
"That's why ye refused a proper mournin' period."
"Aye. I couldnae stand there and pretend to grieve for her.
Couldnae let people see how much she'd destroyed me.
" He turned his hand over, laced his fingers through Ada's.
"Fer months after, I came here. Sat by this water and tried tae understand where I'd gone wrong.
What I'd missed. How I'd let meself be so completely fooled. "
Ada squeezed his hand tighter. "Ye didnae dae anythin' wrong. She's the one who betrayed ye."
"Maybe. But I'm the one who chose her. Who trusted her when I shouldnae have." Magnus's voice turned rough. "That's why I was so afraid with ye. Because if I could be that wrong about Freydis, how could I trust me judgment about anyone else?"
"But I'm nae her," Ada said softly. "I've never been her."
"I ken that now." Magnus brought her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Ye've been patient with me. More patient than I deserve. And I dinnae think I've told ye how much that means."
Ada felt tears prick at her eyes. "Ye dinnae have tae thank me fer that."
"I dae. Because nae many women would put up with a husband who's so broken he cannae even say the words—" Magnus stopped himself, shook his head. "Anyway. That's why people think I killed her. Because I let them and it was easier than the truth."
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle burble of the spring and the distant cry of seabirds. The sun had sunk lower, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange that reflected in the pool's surface.
Finally, Ada stood. "Come on."
Magnus looked up at her, confused. "What?"
"Come on. Intae the water." Ada was already unlacing her boots, pulling them off despite the chill in the air. "Ye brought me here tae relax, and I cannae think of a better way than a swim."
"Ada, it's almost dark. And the water's freezin’."
"So?" Ada peeled off her stockings, and her dress. "Ye said this place was fer escapin' the demands of bein' laird. Fer lettin' go." She looked at him with challenge in her eyes. "Unless ye're afraid of a little cold water?"
Magnus's mouth twitched. "I'm nae afraid of anythin'."
"Then prove it." Ada lifted her shift slightly, stepped into the stream. The water was indeed freezing—so cold it stole her breath—but she refused to show it. Just waded in deeper until the water reached her knees. "See? Nae so bad."
"Ye're insane."
"Maybe. But at least I'm nae broodin'." Ada turned to face him, her skirts soaked now and clinging to her legs.
Magnus stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he began pulling off his boots.
"If we catch our deaths from this, I'm blamin' ye," he said, but there was warmth in his voice now. Amusement.
"Fair enough."
He waded in, hissing slightly at the cold. "God, this is worse than I remembered."
"Ye just have tae get used tae it." Ada moved deeper, until the water reached her waist. Her shift was completely wet now, but she didn't care. The look on Magnus's face—surprise mixed with reluctant enjoyment—was worth it.
He followed her in, moving with the easy confidence of someone who'd swum in those waters countless times before. When he reached her, he was grinning despite the cold.
"Ye're completely mad," he said.
"Aye, probably." Ada splashed water at him playfully. "But at least I got ye tae smile."
"I smile."
"Nae often enough." Ada splashed him again, laughing when he retaliated by sending a wave of water her direction that soaked her completely.
What followed was a brief, chaotic water fight that left them both gasping with laughter and shivering from cold. But the tension that had been weighing on Magnus all day was finally, blessedly gone.
When they finally stopped, both breathing hard, Magnus pulled Ada close. His arms wrapped around her waist, warming her despite the frigid water.
"Thank ye," he said quietly.
"Fer what?"
"Fer this. Fer pullin' me out of me own head." Magnus's hand moved up to cup her face. "Fer remindin' me that there's more tae life than just survivin'."
Ada's breath caught at the look in his eyes. Heat, yes. Want as well. But also something deeper. Something that looked almost like—
Magnus kissed her.
It started gentle, just a press of lips. But when Ada made a soft sound in the back of her throat, when her hands went to tangle in his wet hair, it deepened into something more urgent.
Magnus lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the shore. They stumbled out of the water, still kissing, still clinging to each other like they were afraid to let go.
"We should—" Ada gasped when Magnus's lips moved to her throat. "We should probably—"
"What?" His voice was rough against her skin.
"I dinnae ken. Stop shiverin'?" But even as she said it, her hands were working at the laces of his shirt, pulling the wet fabric away from his body.
Magnus set her down on the grass near where they'd left the horses, his hands already reaching for her shift. "I have blankets in me saddlebag. Fer emergencies."
"This feels like an emergency," Ada agreed breathlessly.
He retrieved the blankets quickly, spreading them on the soft grass while Ada struggled out of her soaked shift. By the time he turned back, she was just standing there, her hair loose and dripping, her skin pale in the fading light.
Magnus went very still. "Ada."
"Dinnae stop now," she whispered. "We need…"
She didn't get to finish. Magnus closed the distance between them, claimed her mouth again, and bore her down onto the blankets with a gentleness that belied his obvious need.
She tasted stream water and the faintest tang of bergamot from the soap he favored. Their mouths slid at an angle, heads tilting for better fit, and when his tongue stroked past her lips she opened immediately, drawing him in.
The sound she let out—half sigh, half whimper—was swallowed by the kiss. One of his hands cupped the base of her skull, threading into her hair; the other settled at her waist, thumb sweeping up and down her ribcage through damp shift.
When they parted for air, she whispered his name. He responded with a soft growl, dropping his mouth to the pulse hammering beneath her jaw.
Ada let her head fall back, eyes closing against the bright sky. Heat shimmered under her skin; between her legs an ache bloomed, deep and insistent. As if attuned to every nuance of her body, Magnus dragged his hand lower.
His fingertips skated across the flat of her belly and sank to the soft curls there, stroking gently through wet folds, exploring until he found the slick pool that had nothing to do with the loch.
Ada bit her lip, hips lifting. “Magnus.” She breathed it, voice thin with urgency.
He lifted his head. His eyes were darker than the deepest part of the stream, pupils blown wide. “Ada,” he returned, the word hoarse, reverent.