Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
At the stables, Beatrice was struck by how gentle Leo was with the horses. When he hoisted her onto the back of a fine bay mare, his grip was firm but not rough.
They rode together into the woodlands, far past the river where she and the women had splashed in the dark, then past the glen where they had watched the sheep scamper. Her entire body was coming back to life in a glorious way, and she drank in the green-gray vista with a grateful smile.
“I used to take Effie here all the time when she was younger,” Leo said as they rode through a grove of thick-barked trees. “Legend says that ye whisper wishes into the bark so the wind will carry them to yer ancestors.”
“What did Effie wish for?”
Leo allowed a secretive half-smile, resting a hand on one of the trees and stroking its rough bark. “That all magic in her dreams be real.”
“And what did ye wish for?” Beatrice asked, a playful lilt in her voice.
Leo lifted his eyes to hers, but before he could answer, thunder clapped. It was too close, nearly overhead.
“We’ll be caught in the storm if we daenae hurry,” he said, steering his horse towards the mouth of the grove. “Ye’re in nay condition for that.”
They took off riding as sheets of rain began to pummel the verdant valley. Beatrice followed him, thankful he knew the way.
I cannae see for the life of me.
After a long stretch of barreling through the storm, Leo pointed to an inn nestled into the woodline. “We can stay there until the storm passes. Hurry, or ye’ll catch yer death.”
They dismounted together, Beatrice scurrying inside as fast as she could. She felt steady on her feet, not sick or ready to collapse like she had on the terrace, but her wet clothes were heavy and unbearably cold.
I daenae think they’ll have anythin' for me to wear, she thought as she and Leo rushed inside. They’ll probably only have animal skins for him.
The thought tickled the pit of her stomach.
The innkeeper who greeted them barked a laugh at the sight.
“Didnae expect the storm to break so soon, lovebirds?” he squawked, shaking his head. “Gave ye enough time to get yer drawers on, I hope.”
Leo puffed out his chest and pulled Beatrice into his side. “Laird and Lady MacSween, actually.”
Hearing the title said like that tossed Beatrice into a tempest of confusing emotions. The sense of pride that bubbled up from it was chased down by fear when she remembered how easily Leo could dismiss her, calling her a dreamer and casting aside her beating heart.
But do I mean anythin' to him? Am I just a means to an end?
The innkeeper led them to an available room, croaking about returning in a moment with some whisky to warm them up. A fire crackled in the hearth, and Beatrice planted herself in front of it, shivering as the cold sliced her right to her bones.
“The fire willnae do anythin' for ye if ye keep yer wet clothes on,” Leo told her. When she didn’t move, he snorted. “I’ll go get the whisky and give ye some privacy.”
Alone in the room, Beatrice stripped quickly and hung her dress next to the fire to dry. Her hair was soaked, the water collecting in the braids she had woken up with. She squeezed out as much as she could, then burrowed under the blankets on the bed.
Ach, it’s narrow for the two of us.
She was half excited and half terrified as to what that meant.
How are we both supposed to fit in without—
Her thought was interrupted as Leo entered with a large glass of whisky. He took a swig and then offered it to her, but she shook her head.
“Suit yerself.” He took another swig. “It’s pretty good.”
In the mercurial light of the fire, he undressed. Beatrice studied the ebb and flow of his body, the slashes burned permanently into his skin from battles. Her mind left her as if the blood ran out of her veins and there was no longer any air in her lungs.
He hung his clothes beside hers, standing naked and slightly damp in front of the hearth. “Ye daenae need to be so modest around me,” he murmured, his back still facing her.
Hesitantly, Beatrice eased herself out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. She folded her arms around her torso as Leo reached for the whisky and gulped down another mouthful.
He took a seat next to her, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering fire. There was a new look on his face she had never seen.
The whisky’s gone right to his head. He wasnae this soft with me before.
“Effie braided yer hair while ye were recoverin',” he said, stroking her now-flowing auburn hair. “The lassie already loves ye, Beatrice.”
“As I love her.”
Leo’s lips turned down. He drank some more and let out a wistful sigh.
“I daenae ken how to explain all of this to ye, but marriage…” He cupped both hands around the glass.
“I’ve never seen a good thing come of it.
All I’ve ever seen is how it rots the people who agreed to it.
I daenae… want Effie to live the way I did. ”
Beatrice placed a hand on his arm and shifted her weight so she was closer to him. Where their naked bodies touched, a spark of heat began to grow.
“I have seen love,” she promised him, her voice strong in the darkness flecked with fiery crimson. “I have seen it. I believe in it.”
Leo shook his head. “Well, I havenae. I’ve seen marriage poison lives. I’ve seen it destabilize the clan.” He closed his eyes briefly and breathed in slowly. “I cannae gamble me daughter’s future on something like that.”
He sees me as a risk. He sees all of this as a way for Effie to get hurt.
“I daenae want to do anythin' to hurt Effie or ye,” Beatrice said. “I care for her, I truly do. Our arrangement…” She reached up and turned his face so he was looking right at her. His eyes glistened, wet and cumbersome with pain. “I think comin' to ye was a mistake.”
She felt the tension in his jaw as he swallowed, but there was no other reaction. He put the glass down, then pulled back the covers and waited for her to climb under them. He joined her, their bodies fitting together on the narrow bed.
“Before the handfastin' ceremony,” he spoke into her ear, “I will help ye escape.”
She turned to face him, seeing him in the glow of the fire as the man she had always known existed for her.
Nay, this is just an arrangement. I must remember that. He is a man I have agreed to be with, nae one I am fated to be with.
“Help me escape?”
“Ye deserve to find what ye’re lookin' for, Beatrice. Ye can find that but nae with me. There’s none of that to be found here. I will let ye go free.”
Heart, lungs, stomach—everything inside her shrank into a curdled mass. Leo pulled her closer, their faces only inches from each other.
I have found it, though. I have found all of that in ye.
“Are ye sure, Leo?” she asked, feeling the warmth of his skin and breathing in the scent of him that she always found herself hungry for.
“Aye. Yer chance is out there. I willnae keep ye from it.”
A protest hung on the tip of her tongue, but she let it dissolve.
They fell asleep in a tangle of limbs, the fire crackling steadily beside them.