Chapter 14
So that she didn’t have to call on a maid in such a state, with love marks peppering her skin, Hannah chose a simpler gown for the day. It was an olive green with long sleeves and an embroidered bodice. Her fingers busied themselves behind her as she tightened the laces.
Heavy footsteps approached her and she felt his strong, calloused fingers over hers as he stopped behind her.
Magnus said nothing as he tied the laces for her, tugging a little harder than needed when he finished.
It brought her eyes up to his face, seeing a slight smirk on his lips.
She huffed and looked forward then, trying to put back on her mask of indifference and irritation toward him, but it was only to hide the building flustered feeling in her chest as he stood so close.
He remained close, unmoving, until she turned to face him. He was dressed already, a shirt, sash, and breeches, his hair pushed back in that messy yet distinguished way of his. “What is it?” she asked him, crossing her arms. “Is there a need for you to be so close?”
“Need? Perhaps. A want, however,” he said before leaning down, his lips only a breath away from hers, “A want is undeniable.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “Men really are as insatiable as they say, aren’t they?
” she grumbled. There was a blush to her cheeks as she turned away from him.
He was truly unflappable, being so comfortable and brazen after their night together, while she was a complete nervous, embarrassed mess.
Before she could step away, his hand caught her arm.
When she turned to him yet again, she noticed something in his hand extended toward her, wrapped in a simple white cloth.
Hannah shot him a curious glance and he only gave her a nod, permission to take it.
She slowly took hold of it and unwrapped the cloth.
It was a dagger, with a polished blade and a bronze handle. The blade itself was curved slightly, reminding her of the scar on her cheek. Hannah’s eyes lifted to find him watching her closely. There was only warmth in his gaze, nothing sinister or cryptic—and it only confused her more.
“Why would you give me this?” she asked quietly.
Magnus reached and stroked her cheek fondly.
“A blade belongs in hands that ken how to survive it,” he said, his voice tender and rough all at once.
She could only study him for a long moment as his words sank in.
He trusted her to have a weapon even though she wasn’t trained, because she knew too well how much damage they could do…
and because he wanted her to have a way to defend herself, if he wasn’t by her side.
“Thank you,” she breathed. Before she knew what she was doing, Hannah leaned in and kissed him lightly.
The kiss lingered and was filled with the gratitude that she couldn’t fit into those two simple words.
When she pulled back, she noticed the small smile on his lips and the way it made her heart thump almost uncomfortably against the walls of her chest.
The pair moved from the bedchamber and down to the dining hall for breakfast. There was a bit of embarrassment burning in the pigment of her cheeks, feeling as though all those who passed them knew what they had been doing while locked away in their bedchamber and the rest of the Keep was launched into chaos from the sighting of Alan’s underling the day before.
Magnus chuckled at her side but didn’t say anything, making her scoff in annoyance—but a tension in her eased.
It was a conversation without words. He noticed her blushing and knew why, and was letting her know it was silly.
And, it was. They were married, after all.
The only one shocked by the development of their intimacy was her.
They sat for their meal, notably side by side for the first time.
She sipped her tea and picked at her meal, grateful for the sustenance after not eating since breakfast the day before.
The silence between them was comfortable for once, not at all filled with the tension that usually crackled in the atmosphere around them.
Hannah found herself feeling almost… hopeful.
Even though her being there wasn’t something she had ever wanted, she was starting to wonder if she could find peace there one day.
“Excuse me, M’Laird,” a small voice called from the door.
Hannah looked up to see the little old man healer who had treated her the day Magnus pulled her from the dungeons. His kind eyes were fixated on Magnus as he entered with soft footsteps. “Forgive the intrusion, but I really must check on yer arm.”
Magnus sighed. “My arm is fine. Worry nae.”
The healer stepped forward still, while Hannah’s mind worked to understand what exactly was going on. His arm? Why was the healer worried about Magnus’s arm? “I would nae be good at my work if I did nae inquire myself, M’Laird. All I need to do is a simple examination of the arm itself.”
“Very well,” Magnus muttered and sat back in his chair as he began rolling up his sleeve.
The old man approached and took hold of Magnus’s hand gently, inspecting the cut from the disgruntled farmer days ago.
The cut was closed with a thick scab starting to take shape over it, and it wasn’t showing even the faintest hint of infection.
Hannah began to ease, thinking that the healer had only misspoken before.
However, the healer then began turning Magnus’s arm this way and that, his eyes tracing the veins in Magnus’s arm.
“Very good. It seems that the poison has nae had any lasting effects,” the healer said confidently.
“Poison?” Hannah echoed, her eyes going wide as she looked to Magnus.
His eyes remained forward but his face twitched with something between annoyance and guilt. “The blade of the farmer was poisoned,” he explained.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hannah demanded.
Her heart was already pounding from the hurt.
The pieces were falling into place in her mind.
The night she had awoken to his whimpers, the fever, his urgency that she not leave his side—it had been poison.
He had been clinging to life and he hadn’t bothered to tell her.
Finally, Magnus motioned for the healer to leave and his eyes fell to her. “Ye had enough to fear, Hannah. I dinnae wish to add to yer stress. I had gone to the healers and had seen it was taken care of. The stress would have been needless to place on ye.”
Hannah pushed back from her chair and stood, her eyes narrowing with rage in his direction.
“It is not for you to decide what is needless for me to worry over. You could have died in the bed with me that night! I… I shouldn’t have even slept.
You needed to be watched over. And yet you made the decision to risk it all for what?
Spare me the worry? Do you think of me as something so fragile? ”
Magnus stood as well, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I would nae have given ye the dagger this morning if I thought ye fragile,” he said, his voice far too calm for her liking. It was as though he was viewing her as a tantruming child that needed soothing.
Hannah smacked his hand away from her shoulder. “What else am I supposed to take this as, then? If you do not view me as fragile, then why wouldn’t you ‘burden’ me with the news of your health?”
Magnus chuckled and reached to stroke her cheek. “I dinnae realize my dear wife cared for me so much.”
She batted his hand away again, fury surging inside of her. “Stop being condescending. This is not charming, Magnus. No matter how I felt or feel about you, I have the right to know about your health. Do you not understand that?”
He let out a deep sigh, the warmth from his expression starting to falter as the cold mask of the Laird started to slide back into its usual place. “I made the decision that ye dinnae need to ken. I’m still alive. Why are ye angry about this?”
“Because you treated me like someone underneath you instead of your partner when you made the decision to keep it from me. And yet the entire time I’ve been your betrothed or your bride, everyone in this damn castle has told me to give you a chance and I will be treated well. Like a true partner.”
His face twitched again, irritation that was bordering on anger shining in his eyes.
He stepped closer, his voice low. “I was treating ye as my wife. Someone I’m meant to protect, Hannah.
That poison was meant for ye. And so I took it inside and out for ye.
How can ye possibly be pissed off with the man who saved yer life and yer peace of mind? ”
She didn’t waver or back up as he got in her face, her eyes narrowed further and her lips pulled into a sneer. “Because I don’t want to be a wife. I want to be a partner. Someone with agency and should know if someone had tried to poison them,” she bit out.
“What difference does it make that the blade was poisoned?” Magnus snapped. “I—”
A voice at the entrance of the dining hall interrupted him. “M’Laird. It’s urgent.”
Magnus seethed and Hannah could see the way he struggled to compose himself before turning to the guard. “What is it?”
“The man in black tartan was spotted in the village again,” the guard informed him. “Our men are in pursuit as we speak.”
The atmosphere of the dining hall was already electric with hurt and frustration, but now it was ignited.
Magnus looked back at Hannah with his eyes burning with all the emotions of the moment.
The warmth that had been blossoming around them all morning was snuffed out entirely, and it once again felt like she was staring down her enemy.
“Stay here. We’ll talk when I return,” Magnus said gruffly.
Hannah scoffed and stepped forward. “I’m going with you.”
Magnus’s face pulled into a grimace. “Ye are nae.”
And with that, he turned and headed for the exit. Hannah was quick on his tail. “Is that an order?” she bit.
He glared at her over his shoulder but didn’t break his pace. “Call it whatever ye want. Ye’re staying in the Keep.”
“I’m going with you. This involves me just as much since it’s clear Alan wants me dead.”
He spun around and glared at her. If looks could kill, she would be on the floor right then. “It’s exactly why I’m nae letting ye go. I will nae put ye in the way of danger simply because ye’re stubborn and pissed off with me.”
“You think that’s the only reason I have to want to see this through with my own eyes? And here I thought you had gotten very acquainted last night with the list of reasons I bear.”
Her scars, the gallery of them that etched more skin than she cared to admit or look at.
The very scars that he had kissed without flinch or hesitation or extra attention, and had managed to make her feel beautiful once again.
She couldn’t believe that same man was the one treating her like nothing more than a petty, bratty woman at that moment.
“Yer reasons can be anything ye need them to be. None of it changes the fact that ye are staying here in the Keep,” he said, his voice rough and tight from frustration.
“I’m confined here on your orders, then?” she scoffed.
He sneered. “Aye. Since ye seem to be forcing my hand.”
“Why not make it the dungeons then? Since I’m prisoner to the Black family. Like I have been for months.” Her arms crossed in defiance. “Perhaps you aren’t so different from your brother.”
Magnus stepped back, almost like she struck him. His mouth opened as if to speak, but a voice interrupted him yet again.
“Our horses are ready,” Angus announced. Hannah let her eyes flicker to him as he stood nearby, his cloak and riding boots on.
Magnus hadn’t taken his eyes off her, but he listened to his friend and then he sighed. “We’ll finish this conversation when I return. Wait here, Hannah.”
He turned away from her and followed his friend as they hurried toward the foyer. Hannah stood there, heart pounding with the swarm of emotions battling in her chest. Hurt, frustration, worry—and guilt.
Why in the world had she said that to him?
Why had she acted like the bratty, defiant woman she was criticizing him for painting her as?
“Get back safely,” she muttered to the open air, the door shutting behind him as he left with Angus. “Please.”