“So he gathers information now,” Philip said.
“Aye,” Reena said, “but the question remains—”
Magnus finished for her. “Is it one of Kilkern’s men or someone else?”
Chapter 14
Winter set in strong and hard in the following weeks, mostly cold, harsh weather, with one snowstorm that dropped enough snow to linger for a week. A stinging coldness now filled the air, and the villagers remained in their cottages. The animals had been given shelter in a stone and thatched building that needed much repair, but for now it would keep them safe from the inclement weather.
The village folk were also aware that they were being watched, and in return they watched and reported any suspicious movement near the surrounding area. So far, no stranger was spotted, nor did any stranger approach the village for shelter.
Guards were posted along the battlements and surrounding the keep. All was in readiness if there should be an attack, and all felt safe with the Legend’s ability to protect them.
Reena and Magnus spent day after day together. She would go over an area of the keep with Magnus in the morning, and in the afternoon she would map, then in the evening they would go over the map she had worked on to see if it needed further detailing.
Conversation flowed easily between them, laughter was plentiful, and even silence between them was comforting. They worked well together, each almost knowing the other’s thought or action.
Magnus praised her mapping skills and her drawing talent. He commented on how pretty she looked in the new clothes he had ordered stitched for her, and which she had refused at first to accept. It was only after he had convinced her that the garments were not a gift, that he expected her to wear his colors, that she accepted them without objection.
She favored the deep green and brown underdress and tunics, the wool being soft and gentle against her skin. It was the dark blue underdress with the light blue tunic trimmed in gold that she favored the most, but it did not fit with his colors. Magnus had insisted the garment was for special occasions and she had no choice but to wear it. She’d had no special occasion to wear it yet, but she looked forward to such an event, so soft and beautiful were the garments.
Today she wore a brown underdress and green tunic. She tied her long black hair with a leather strip and gathered charcoal and paper to join Magnus in his solar. Their plan for today was to investigate a room off the tower room. When Magnus had first showed it to her, she’d wondered how he had ever found it. It looked as if it were part of the wall, a room built specially to hide someone or to hide secrets.
Magnus bade her enter when she knocked on his door. She caught her breath at the sight of him, and try as she might, she could not prevent herself from feeling a rush of joy in seeing him. She wondered, and worried, over her recurring enthusiasm with him. Her continuous efforts to bring Brigid and him together were proving fruitless, neither seeming interested, though they were friendly in manner when in each other’s company.
Looking at him now had her heart jumping, as it often did. He looked so handsome dressed in dark brown leggings and undershirt, topped by a soft leather tunic in a buttery color. He looked so very appealing.
She blushed at the thought and hurried toward him.
“Are you ready? I look forward to seeing what secrets the room holds.” Her words rushed so fast from her mouth that they sounded garbled to her own ears.
Magnus laughed. “There are not many women who would be enthusiastic about searching out secret rooms locked away for years. There will be cobwebs and spiders, you know.”
“You mean to frighten me?” she asked, her grin wide. “You will need to use more than cobwebs and spiders to put fear in me.”
“Skeletons?” he asked.
“Do you honestly think we may find a skeleton?” she asked excitedly.
“Will you map him if we do?” he teased.
She was serious in her answer. “I often thought it might prove beneficial to map a skeleton—think what one can learn from it.”
Magnus shook his head, closing the ledger he had been working on. “Come, let us see if we can find you a skeleton.”
She eagerly followed alongside him as they made their way to the tower room. The room was large, the hearth small, and four windows, strategically placed, looked out on spectacular views of Dunhurnal land. A fire had been lit, but it barely warmed the empty room.
“What are your plans here?” Reena asked, turning in a complete circle to view the entire room.
“I have not yet decided, though I have heard told that the tower room is sometimes used to hold a special person prisoner.”
Reena took a second glance around the room. “It would be very lonely to remain so close yet so far removed from everyone, and to look out the windows and see the land and be unable to venture out—” She shivered and hugged herself. “How horrible a fate.”
“And one that will befall no one in my keep.”
His firm yet sad tone chilled her and another shiver raced through her.
“You are cold?”
“Nay, it is the feel of the room that chills.”
“I feel it myself,” he said. “Let us search the secret room and be done with it.”
Reena eagerly followed him over to the room that appeared carved out of the stone wall, a thick chest braced against the open door. It was an ingenious design, the door looking as if it were part of the wall when closed.
“How did you ever find this?” she asked, her hand examining the smooth stone edge of the door.
“By mere accident.” Magnus took one of the lighted torches from the wall and entered the room. Reena followed close behind him, feeling as if she’d stepped into the mouth of darkness.
The chamber was nothing more than a tiny cell, dark and dank, with cobwebs surrounding two trunks that sat one on top of the other in the corner. Nothing else occupied the small space.
Magnus stood frozen for a moment; his eyes were riveted to the far stone wall. She wondered at his thoughts. Did they disturb him? Did he recall a memory of another time and similar room? Lately she found herself wanting to know more about him and his past, and the reason he was called the Legend. But it would not do to ask; she was certain she would discover her answers, given time.
“Let us shed light on what is hidden,” he said. “Can you hold this torch?”
Reena took it from him and stood aside while he broke through the cobwebs and moved the two dust-covered trunks out into the tower room. She gave one last look around the small space and was about to leave when something on the far wall caught her eye. She walked the few steps further into the room and held up the torch, casting light on the wall.
She reached out and touched a metal ring secured firmly in the wood. She wondered over its purpose and made a mental note to include it in her drawing of the room.
A last glance yielded no more discoveries, and she left the room to see what Magnus had found in the trunks.
Reena stood, her eyes rounding at the sight of the sparkling gems Magnus held in his hand and the plethora of gems contained in a smaller box in the trunk. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and sapphires glittered magnificently.
Magnus dropped the gems back into the small wooden box and took the torch from her, replacing it in the metal wall sconce.
“Secret treasure,” Reena said on a whisper, as if no one should hear her. She dropped to her knees and reached out slowly to touch a dark red ruby pendant on a strand of pearls, then stopped and looked to Magnus.
“Touch what you will,” he said, a smile defining his handsome features.
Why, then, did she think she saw sadness in his dark eyes?
“The ruby pendant would look lovely with your dark hair.”
His suggestion startled her. “Nay, this jewelry is not fit for me; it is meant for a fine lady.” She did, however, pick up the necklace, cup it in her hand, and admire its beauty.
Magnus kneeled beside her and reached for a sapphire and
diamond necklace. “This one would look nice with your blue dress.”
She shook her head and took the sapphire necklace from him. “Though it is beautiful to look upon. Who do you think it belonged to, and why was it hidden away?”
“Someone evidently did not want it to be discovered.” He lifted the small wooden box out of the trunk to reveal glass inkwells and several quills.
Reena instantly returned the sapphire necklace to the small box and reached for the quills. “Look,” she said with the excitement he would have expected from a woman when she looked upon sparkling gems. “A swan quill and a crow quill, and they look as though they have not had much use.”
“Keep them,” Magnus said and removed the ledgers.
“Parchment paper,” Reena cried out and reached for the roll that had been flattened to the back of the trunk by the ledgers. She carefully uncrinkled and rolled the paper open. “It remains in fine condition.”
“They are yours.”
“Truly?” she asked, hugging them tightly in her hand.
“I have no use for them, and you will make good use of them.”
Reena was so excited over her gifts that she gave no thought to her actions: She only wanted to thank Magnus for his generosity, so she flung herself at him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you, thank you,” she repeated, followed by two more kisses.
When she realized what she had done, she slowly moved away to plop down on her bottom, legs folded beneath her. She purposely directed her glance to the gifts in her hand.
Magnus was stunned silent by her spontaneous reaction, but once he realized her unease, he attempted to make light of it.
“Since quills and paper so excite you, I will make certain you are supplied with an abundance of both.”
She laughed with relief. “I am sorry, I did not think.”
“I like when you do not think.”
She raised her head to look at him and found it difficult to speak, unsure of her response and captured by the tender look in his dark eyes. What was it about his eyes that made her senses tingle? Why did a tiny shiver run through her and settle in the pit of her stomach? And why did she feel the urge to kiss him again?
Magnus leaned nearer. “Continue to look at me with such longing and I will satisfy your desire.”
Desire?
Did she look at him with desire? Is that what she felt, or ached? It was an ache, and an unfamiliar one, and she did not quite understand it herself. And did she want to?
“You know little of men and women.”
“I watch and see, but understand?” She shook her head. “I cannot say I understand at all.”
“Yet you capture the essence in your drawings.”
“I see much when I draw.”
He leaned even closer. “Then draw me and understand.”
Her smile was quick to return. “I would love to draw you.”
“Then you will see me for who I truly am.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He stared at her for a moment. “A warning.”
Again she thought not of her actions and reached out to run her finger down his cheek. “I do not fear you.”
His hand grabbed hold of her finger and he brought it near his mouth. His warm breath whispered across the sensitive flesh. “Are you sure of that?” He kissed her finger and then gently suckled the tip.
Her eyes turned wide, her mouth dropped open, and though she searched for a response all she could do was moan—in pleasure, not in pain.
“Let me taste you,” he whispered and captured her lips with his.
She thought to move away, her body already in motion, but his arms were quick and strong, wrapping around her and pulling her toward him. Her hands pushed against his chest, preventing close contact, and the feel of the soft leather over his hard muscled chest tingled her fingers.
His tongue rushed around her mouth and slipped between her traitorous lips. In an instant she was lost in the taste of him. There was no thought, no choice, just response, and she responded without reason. But then it made no sense, how she felt, how she ached, how her body tingled in the strangest places.
There was only a need, and she surrendered to it more completely than she had ever thought possible.
He ended the kiss with a gentle brush of his lips over hers before resting his forehead against hers.
“Think on what we have just shared and then sketch me so that you may understand it all.”
She answered breathlessly. “Aye, I will do that.”
Heavy footsteps climbing the stone stairs drew them apart, and Thomas soon entered the room with haste.
“A messenger approaches the keep,” Thomas said.
Magnus stood. “When you sketch this room, make certain to record the views from each window. Leave the trunks, I will see to them.”
“As you wish,” she said and watched as Magnus and Thomas hurried out the door.
She returned the items to the trunk except for the quills and paper Magnus had told her to keep. She refused to allow her mind to linger on their kiss or on the prospect of sketching him, though both thrilled her. She had work to do, and yet not only did her mind drift but her glance drifted as well, to the unopened trunk. She itched to discover what secrets lay in wait.
She attempted to ignore it while she sketched the room, concentrating on the view from each window as Magnus had directed, but her eyes were repeatedly drawn back to the trunk.
After several agonizing moments of fighting with herself, she surrendered to her own curiosity, kneeled in front of the trunk, and opened it.
A small blue wool blanket lay on top, and she gently moved it aside to discover several leather-bound ledgers. She removed one and carefully opened it. The handwriting was neat and small, and the text was French—a familiar name within the lines.
I gave birth to a fine son today after much pain, and though I continue to ache and feel exhausted, I also feel wonderful. He nestles in my arms, his fists tightly clenched, and he snuggles to me for warmth. He has claimed my heart, this tiny son of mine, and I will protect him well. He deserves a fine name and so I have decided to name him after my grandfather, for he was a courageous and fair man. I will call my new son—Magnus.
Chapter 15
Reena stared at the map in front of her, quill in hand. She had retired to her room over an hour ago and had yet to lay quill to paper. Her mind overflowed with all that had transpired in a single day, and she was now trying to make sense of it.
Talk during the evening meal was of the mysterious messenger. Tongues wagged and gossip spread, but no one had an answer as to who could have sent him. But Reena’s mind continued to wander to the kiss she and Magnus had shared.
She could not rid her mind of the taste of him. He lingered there and on her lips, warm and pungent, tempting the senses, and she responded to the vivid memories.
Her skin grew warm, her flesh tingled, and she ran her tongue slowly over her lips, reclaiming the taste of him. She shivered, and gooseflesh rushed to prickle her skin.
She shook her head, a firm, hard shake to clear her thoughts. She was foolish to dwell on a kiss. She had work to do and she was wasting time on nonsense. Magnus was lord of Dunhurnal and she was in his service. She certainly was not the type of woman he would love. He would love and wed a woman who would give him many heirs, tend to him and their children and his keep. She, on the other hand, wished to map, and that would mean travel. She had no time for love, and she did not think she was suited to be a mother. Adventure, travel, mapping was what interested her, and they did not go well with being a wife.
Or were they mere excuses she made for the stark cold fact that the Legend simply would never love a woman such as her?
She turned her troublesome thoughts to the prospect of drawing Magnus. His defined features were made for drawing, and she intended to do as he suggested—draw him.
Would she then understand him better?
There was much to u
nderstand, especially the journal she had discovered in the trunk. It had belonged to Magnus’s mother, and the trunks seemed to have been hidden away in that small room.
She had had no chance to continue reading the entries. Footsteps had fallen heavy on the stairs, and she had quickly returned the journal to the trunk before closing the lid. Two of Magnus’s men had entered the room and removed the trunks, though she knew not where.
Questions gathered like storm clouds in her mind, filling with possibilities and getting ready to burst. Could his mother have lived here at Dunhurnal? Or had the trunks been brought here and hidden? And was there more to the reason why the king had granted Dunhurnal land to Magnus?
She rubbed her forehead, her thoughts a jumble of questions with few answers.
“You work too hard.”
Reena jumped, startled by Magnus’s sudden presence.
“I did not hear you enter.”
“I doubt you would have heard a troop of men enter. You appeared too engrossed in thought.” He approached her desk, walking around to where she sat to stand beside her and look over the map she worked on.
“I have not gotten very far.”
Magnus disagreed. “You have done more than I expected, and your detail is remarkable.” He studied the tower room she had drawn and marveled at the preciseness of her strokes. The windows matched in size, and each window was marked with a Roman numeral and a direction inscribed in Gaelic and Latin, as was a spot on the wall where the door to the small room would be located.
Reena pointed to the Latin inscription. “North, south, east and west so you know where you look upon. The Roman numeral corresponds to another map, which will give you the view from the window. The numeral on the door corresponds to a map of the small chamber, which shows little—a bare, cell-like room with a metal ring secured to thick wood.”
“You noticed the metal ring?”
“I make myself aware of all that I see and record what I see. I know not if it is important, I only know that I see it and therefore record it.” She asked one of the questions that troubled her thoughts. “Do you know the metal ring’s purpose?”
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