“Are ye sure about this, lass? Ye doona have to marry him.”
I nodded.
“Aye, I do. Father has made it clear that I must marry. Ye know if I send Henry away, Ludo Buchanan will come. If he’s anything like ye described him to be, I’m quite certain I’d rather die than marry him. Henry is a proper choice. I’ve made up my mind.”
Alasdair sighed. “I want so much more for ye than a ‘proper choice.’ I want ye to love as I have loved.”
Reaching my hand to soothe him, I patted my brother’s back. “We canna all be as lucky as ye and Elspeth. Doona worry for me. I’m settled in my decision.”
“Does that mean ye’ve told him, then? He knows of yer magic and ye trust him with it?”
My hand stilled on his back. I would never tell anyone of my magic ever again. I wanted nothing to do with it.
“No.”
“Ye must tell him, Morna. I doona know what happened between ye and Jerry, but I am no fool. His departure injured ye in a way that turned ye away from magic. Ye know ye doona have that choice—magic is not something that ye can either take or leave. It will always be a part of ye.
“When ye doona practice, when ye doona continue to learn, the power builds up inside ye. Ye canna hide it from Henry forever. If ye are willing to trust yer life to him, ye must trust this secret to him, as well.”
Alasdair stood, kissed the top of my head, and left me with the only ultimatum I’d ever heard escape his lips.
“’Twould be unfair to both of ye to wed and keep this a secret. I’ll give ye three days, lass. If ye doona tell him by then, I’ll do it myself.”
Chapter 24
Every day following Alasdair’s ultimatum, I tried to tell Henry.
On the first day, I took him riding—something I rarely did. I much preferred walking, but I hoped the distance away from the castle might give me the courage to tell him.
Instead, I only ended up with a sore arse and a bad mood.
On the second day, I casually mentioned the use of magic and asked what his opinion was. His response did nothing to ease my nerves.
He said, “I doona know what to think of those who claim to possess such magic. ’Tis much like ghosts, I believe. Until I see one myself, I canna say anything either way. Though, if I do ever see a witch, it might frighten me enough that I run them through with a sword. The very thought of another changing anything with simple words makes me uneasy.”
So not only did the thought of magic make him uneasy, but he also considered killing witches a plausible option if seeing one. It didn’t bode well.
By day three, I was resolute in my determination to tell him. I couldn’t possibly let Alasdair be the one to reveal it to him.
I woke early in the morning, dressed, and after making certain that neither Father nor Alasdair were anywhere in the corridor, knocked on the door to Henry’s bedchamber.
He opened it with only his kilt on—his chest entirely bare. Every muscle in my body clenched just looking at him, but I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted.
“Lass, I never thought I’d see the day when ye would so brazenly knock on my door. What if someone sees ye? ’Twouldn’t look good for either of us.”
Undeterred, I kept my gaze on his eyes.
“No one will see me for I have no intention of stepping inside yer room. I wish to show ye something. Will ye dress and meet me downstairs?”
Intrigued, he nodded, bent to steal a quick kiss, then closed the door in my face.
* * *
I stood on the hidden door to my basement, staring up at Henry, completely unable to say to him what I knew I must.
“Henry, I…there is something I must tell ye, something ye must know if we are to be married.”
His patience thinning, Henry reached for my hands and squeezed them gently.
