Authors: Donna Fletcher
He remained silent, an indication that he gave her words thought. She waited.
He closed the distance between them to stand directly in front of her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. It eased her chill and brought her comfort.
An odd thought, and one she pushed from her mind.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Kilkern’s men appeared out of nowhere, though I had been too busy taking note of the land—”
“—to pay attention to your safety.”
“Foolish, I know,” she admitted with a brief shake of her head.
“Then you spoke up without thinking.”
Her eyes went wide.
“I have learned you are not one to hold your tongue.”
“I can when necessary,” she defended. “But my confidence was strong, having the distinction of being the Legend’s mapmaker.”
“And this you told him.”
“Aye,” she said with her head high. “Straight and forward I was, letting him know that I was now under your protection.”
Magnus held firm to his anger; that Kilkern would strike Reena knowing she was under his protection infuriated him.
“Your name seemed to anger him as much as his presence angers you.” She hoped for an explanation, though she doubted he was ready to offer it.
“He lashed out at you.” Magnus reached up and gently touched the swollen corner of her mouth. “Perhaps Old Margaret can help alleviate your discomfort.”
His voice softened, his eyes showed concern, and his touch was light, like butterfly wings whispering across her cheek. Her legs trembled, her knees grew weak, and she fought the urge to rest her head on his chest.
Instead she stepped away from him. “I will see what Margaret can do, and I thank you for what you did for Brigid. I know you will find her to your liking, for she is a good and kind woman.”
“So are you.”
She laughed, though it sounded sad to his ears. “Did you not hear Kilkern? I am useless and not attractive to a man.”
“He is ignorant and blind.”
“I have grown thin, and my features are plain and will set no man’s heart to beating wildly.”
Magnus closed the distance between them once more. “You possess the skill, the strength and the courage to travel the land and map it. How many among us can do as you do? And as for your features?”
He paused and stared at her in silence.
Did words fail him? Were her features so difficult to describe that he could find no words? And why did the thought hurt her so? She had never allowed such silly nonsense to disturb her before.
He spoke then in a whisper, as if his words were meant for her alone. “The only beauty that counts is the true beauty that is seen by a true heart.”
Her laughter was soft, like a gentle breeze. “Then beauty escapes me, for a true heart will never find me. No man will love a woman such as I, and it is good that I know this, for I will not waste my time on useless dreams.”
She turned and hurried from the room, rushing down the steps and out of the keep.
W
inter nipped at the last few days of autumn, and preparation was well underway to make certain all in the village and keep were ready. In the two weeks since their arrival at Dunhurnal, the villagers and the Legend’s warriors had been busy repairing and preparing the cottages, the keep and the land. Much had been accomplished. Though more work was necessary, at least everyone would have a warm, comfortable cottage for the winter.
Warriors busily hunted game, while the women saw to smoking and salting the meat for storage. Wool cloth was distributed to the women, who immediately set to work sewing new garments. Wood was chopped and stored, and peat collected for a sufficient supply of fuel for the hearths.
Through all the activity Reena saw to it that Brigid was often thrown in Magnus’s path. And she made certain that he was aware of how talented Brigid was with a needle and thread and cooking.
Brigid had helped in the cleaning of the keep’s kitchen, a large room separated from the castle though connected by a covered passageway, which Magnus had ordered enclosed. He insisted that his servants would remain warm along with the food as they carried it from the kitchen to the keep during the cold winter months.
Reena divided her time between helping her parents settle into their cottage and Brigid in hers.
It surprised Reena that her own quarters were located in the keep. They were larger than she had expected, and the room was furnished with not only a good-size bed but also a large table more than sufficient for mapping. She would have enough room to place her inkwells, quills, maps and several candles.
Presently, she was on her way to the woods behind Brigid’s cottage to look for bird feathers that would make good quills. She wanted to make certain that she had a good supply before winter set in. Magnus had promised she would have sufficient mapping material, including quills, ink and paper, but she favored making her own quills.
Thomas was outside Brigid’s cottage, clearing the front of overgrown weeds and brush. He and Brigid had become good friends, and it was he who had seen to the repair of her cottage. Her roof thatching had been repaired, the window shutters were secure, and the hearth was in good working condition, Thomas having insisted she would be safe and warm when winter’s chill set in. And he had promised her a fine garden in the spring, which was why he had set to work now clearing the land.
Thomas greeted her with a wave. “Good timing. Brigid just made fresh mulled cider.”
Reena licked her lips. “She makes the best mulled cider.”
Thomas brushed his hands off. “Magnus thinks the same, he is enjoying some now.”
Reena felt the familiar tug to her tummy, but she ignored it. She’d realized over the last week or so that she found Magnus to her liking. He was handsome enough, but that was not what attracted her to him. She enjoyed talking with him on a variety of subjects, sharing opinions and being treated with equal intelligence. He expected no womanly chores from her and encouraged her to pursue her drawing skills and, of course, work on her maps. He often shared his experiences of other lands, detailing how difficult it had been at times to traverse unknown terrain.
And she knew in her heart that Magnus could be no more than a friend. She was not the type of woman he could care for; being small in size and having lost weight, she resembled a young lad. Even with weight she did not possess the appealing body that Brigid had, and she doubted she would ever have such an alluring shape. Then there were her simple features, nothing that would make a man take notice.
She was definitely not the type of woman Magnus could love, and she did not want to foolishly lose her heart to someone who could never love her. Magnus and Brigid suited each other well, and she would do well to remember that.
Therefore it was not surprising that she envied her friend Brigid, though it was a friendly envy, since she wanted very much for Brigid to be happy again, and she would have Magnus as a good friend as well. Besides, she doubted she would find love, and she did not wish to waste time pursuing a dream that would never come true.
And she always had Horace. The little pup had grown a little bigger and followed her wherever she went, though the woods frightened him, and he would often wait for her at Brigid’s cottage, where she would return to find him curled sound asleep in front of the warm hearth or waiting impatiently at the front door.
She followed Thomas into the cottage, Horace leading the way.
Magnus was laughing and Brigid was smiling when they joined them, and Reena smiled along with them, happy to see her friend enjoying life once again. Magnus was good for her, and she was glad she had seen to it that the two were often placed in each other’s paths, though today their company was not of her doing.
“Reena,” Brigid said, reaching to fill a tankard. “Just in time for cinnamon cakes and cider.”
Thomas sat opposite Magnus at the table, and she sat at the opposite end from Brigid. Horace plopped down beside Brigid, knowing she would give him food in good time.
Reena had barely taken a bite of her cake when a knock sounded at the door.
Brigid bid her visitor welcome.
Justin, the tanner, entered. “I am truly sorry to interrupt.”
“Is there a problem?” Magnus asked, knowing the young man, since he found his talents useful in producing the leather tunics he favored. He was a personable young man, average in height and quiet in nature.
“Nay, my lord, I was hoping to have a word with Reena.”
Reena grabbed her cinnamon cake and one for Justin, and she stood before she realized that Brigid was looking at her strangely and Thomas was holding a beefy hand to his mouth to hide his smile.
Reena mentally shook her head, not wanting to openly admit she’d once again given no thought to seeking Magnus’s permission to leave when in his presence. Not that he strictly demanded such obedience, especially when he and she shared time together, but when in the company of others, it was proper and courteous for her to do so.
Justin quickly sought to correct her mistake. “My lord, I will only take a moment of Reena’s time.”
“That is good, since her cider will chill if she is gone too long.”
Reena was surprised at his response; he seemed annoyed at her brief absence.
She hurried out the door with Justin, handing him a cake as they walked a short distance away from the cottage.
Justin was apologetic. “I am sorry to bother you, but I needed to talk with someone, and you have often lent a gracious and understanding ear to me.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I do not mind listening. What troubles you?”
“How do you know I feel troubled?”
“You have not touched Brigid’s cinnamon cake, and no one can resist Brigid’s cinnamon cakes.”
Justin stared at the cake in his hand. “I have lost my appetite.” He sighed again and shook his head.
“Only love can cause loss of appetite.”
Justin shook his head and admitted with frustration, “She does not know I exist.”
“Who is it you favor?”
“Maura, the young lass who helps Kate, the cook, in the kitchen.”
Reena knew immediately of whom he spoke. “She is a pretty one, with that long red hair of hers.”
“Aye, she is,” Justin said with a heartfelt sigh. “And there are many men who agree with you, which is my problem. Do you think I have a chance with her?”
“Why would you not?”
“Look at me, Reena, I am not much to look at, a tanner by trade, not good with a sword—”
“But excellent with a bow and arrow, a skillful tanner who could provide beautiful leather workings for her, and a man who would love her deeply from his heart. How could she resist you?”
“Your confidence is appreciated, but how do I make myself known to her? My tongue deserts me when I attempt to speak with her. That is why I thought of you.” He grew excited. “You have become acquainted with the women in the kitchen.”
“A wise choice for one who cannot cook.”
He smiled, hesitated, then asked, “I thought maybe you would introduce her to me and then—” He shrugged. “Well, then I am on my own.”
“I go to gather feathers for quills now, but when I return we will go to the kitchen and I will introduce you to her.”
“You will?” Justin could not keep the excitement from his voice, though doubt soon followed. “What if words fail me and I make a fool of myself?”
“Words will not fail you, and I will be there to help with the conversation. Then I will make myself scarce, and you will be on your own and do well.”
Justin threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, and please tell no one of this. I do not want to look the fool.”
Reena laughed and returned the hug. “Love often makes fools of us.”
“Reena!”
The booming voice snapped the two apart, and they turned to stare at Magnus, who stood outside the front door, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I have kept you too long,” Justin whispered. “Go, and I will see you when you return, and thank you again.”
Reena nodded and squeezed his hand. “Until later.” She hurried to Magnus.
“Is there a problem with Justin?”
“Nay.”
“What did he want?”
“A small favor, nothing of importance,” she said, wondering why he sounded irritated and thinking it wise to change the subject. After all, she had promised not to betray Justin’s trust. “It is time for me to go in search of feathers for new quills.”
For a moment she thought he intended to pursue his concern with Justin, then he asked, “Where will you hunt for feathers?”
She pointed past him. “Beyond Brigid’s cottage in the woods.”
“Your cider grows cold,” Brigid called out from the cottage.
“Warm yourself with hot cider and enjoy more of Brigid’s cinnamon cakes before you go to the woods,” Magnus said and stepped aside for her to enter.
“Nay, I think it is wiser for me to go now when the sun is strong.”
Magnus reached out to take her arm, but she hurried past him into the cottage, grabbed her cloak, gave Horace a pat on the head where he lay curled contentedly before the hearth, and was out the door.
“Wait,” Brigid said, rushing after her friend, basket in hand. “You forgot this.”
“I will not be long.” Reena took the basket, smiled at Magnus as she rushed past him, and waved to Thomas, who was repairing the front gate. She brushed her long dark hair away from her face and hurried around the side of the cottage, only to have a gust of wind slip beneath her cloak and send it billowing out behind her. She laughed like a child at play, spread her arms as if she intended to fly, and hurried off, disappearing into the woods.
Magnus watched her as he walked over to Thomas, who kept his laughter low.
“You find this amusing?”
“Aye,” Thomas said with a good nod of his head. “I have never known a woman who did not find you appealing and make her feelings known. Now I know not only one.” He held up two fingers. “But two.”
“I admire Brigid, for she loved her husband, but I do not interest her, nor does she interest me. While she is a good woman—”
“A very good woman,” Thomas said firmly.
“Aye, a very good woman,” Magnus agreed with a nod. “She is not what I look for, though”—with a purposeful pause he stared at his friend—“she would be good for you.”
Thomas grew flustered, shook his head, and dismissed Magnus’s words with a curt wave. “Nay, I am but a friend to her; she has no other interest in me.”
Magnus placed a hand on Thomas’s large shoulder. “You say yourself she is a very good woman.”
“And what of you and Reena?” Thomas asked. “I see how you look at her and want to know her whereabouts, and how you provided her with large quarters in the keep. I know that you have sent for special drawing and writing materials for her, and that you have ordered Mary the spinner to spin a fine cloth for garments specially to be made for Reena.”
“She is my mapmaker and therefore I provide for her.”
“Really? Then why do I find you so often in her company and in conversation with her? And why did you grow so annoyed when she went off to speak with Justin?”
Magnus bristled. “I do not need to explain myself to you.”
Thomas laughed and placed a hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “Nay, my friend, you do not, but some advice. I would suggest you not harm that young lad Justin, who you obviously feel is interested in Reena.”
“They hugged,” Magnus said, his own irritation surprising him.
Thomas kept a restraint on his chuckle.
“You find this humorous?” Magnus asked, not at all amused.
“I find it humorous that you have denied your attraction to Reena.”
Magnus shook his head. “I have been trying to understand why I found her interesting ever since I first saw her. She is too thin—”
“She has gained some weight,” Thomas said in her defense.
“Not much, and her features are plain, though her smile is pleasant and she has no interest in womanly matters. She maps, draws and helps many in the village, and she does what she pleases without thought of seeking my permission.”