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A strange sound interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly looked about the room. She was stunned to see Magnus asleep in the chair near the hearth.
Asleep and snoring.
With drawing in hand she walked over to him and quietly kneeled in front of him. His head rested to the side, his one arm was draped over the arm of the chair, his other arm rested on his leg. He wore all dark garments as usual, though he wore no leather tunic and his long hair looked alive with bursts of sunlight, the fire’s glow highlighting the sun-colored strands.
He was a handsome man even when he slept and far from a legend, since he snored like the common man. It was not a heavy snore, but deep and steady, almost rhythmic in nature.
She listened to the delightful melody, giggling when it reached a crescendo then slowed before it began again. She should wake him, but he appeared so very content. The thought that he had not disturbed her when he had entered her bedchamber and seen her drawing but had sat beside her hearth to wait warmed her heart and endeared him to her all the more.
His snoring crested once again, only this time more loudly than before. He woke himself up.
Reena giggled as he sat up with a start.
“I do not snore,” he said.
“I did not say that you did, though I did hear a strange sound.” She bit her lip to prevent a giggle.
“Horace,” Magnus accused and looked around for the pup. “He is never around when I need him.”
Reena could not stifle a giggle.
“You find this funny?” he asked with a smile.
“Your snoring is like a melody, I do not mind it.”
“Many women whose husbands snore would adamantly disagree.”
“I suppose many would,” she said. “But I would be grateful to hear my husband snore night after night, for that would mean we were safe beside each other.”
Magnus leaned forward and stroked her soft cheek with the back of his fingers. “You look at things differently than most women.”
His gentle touch sent gooseflesh rushing over her, and a soft sigh followed suit.
Magnus had not intended to kiss her, but he could not help himself, she looked so appealing with that smudge of charcoal on her chin.
He leaned forward and caught her lips with his. He was about to taste more of her when his eyes caught sight of her drawing and he pulled back away from her, his hand reaching for the paper.
He was struck by the detail. Reena had captured the scene as if she had been there and had seen it with her own eyes. It took him back to when he was a little boy, and that little boy’s emotions came pouring forth. His heart pounded in his chest and he fought the urge to weep.
Reena watched his emotions war in his eyes and on his face. “I do not know why I draw what I draw sometimes. I had not planned on this drawing.”
Magnus shook his head slowly. “I cannot believe the accuracy in it. It was as if you saw it clearly with your own eyes and that you felt—my God, you actually captured her pain.”
Reena and he looked upon the drawing. Magnus’s mother stood chained to the wall of the secret room, her wrists tight in the shackles, her fingers holding firm a piece of metal she used to scrape words on the stone wall. Her long hair hung down her back and her head rested to the side on her arm. She resembled Magnus, though her beautiful face portrayed a woman deep in sorrow, strong in strength and fighting her fear.
Magnus kissed her cheek. “Thank you. I shall cherish this drawing forever.”
“But it makes you sad,” Reena said, her own heart as heavy as his, for the drawing invoked deep emotions.
“I cannot deny it brings back difficult memories, but your drawing proves to me what I thought as a child but now I know as an adult—my mother faced her ordeal with strength and courage, and no one, absolutely no one, could take them from her. So thank you again, you gave a little boy what he needed badly. You gave me the truth.”
Chapter 22
Spring rushed in, forcing winter away. The days turned sunny and bright, the air lost its chill, the skies seemed bluer, the birds hurried to build nests for their expected young, and the trees were budding.
The village was also a buzz of activities. Repairs were started on the cottages, the land was being prepared for planting, and the healthy farm animals were near to giving birth, along with several women in the village.
Life was good, though on closer inspection guards had been doubled around Dunhurnal land, people kept a watchful eye on strangers who requested to stop and rest before traveling on, and Thomas remained forever near Brigid’s side.
