Page 44 of Kilty as Sin
There was something like remorse in his expression, and while Grace would have once welcomed her father’s change of heart, today it just frustrated her. She was woozy, she was angry, and aye, she hurt.
And the man she loved was currently fighting for his life.
So mayhap she was a bit impatient when she brushed off her father’s touch. “Aye, he hurt me. Just as I’ve been telling ye all along. I didnae object to this marriage because I was a selfish, spoiled brat, Father, but because Laird MacGill took great pleasure in telling me of my future with him.”
“I’m sorry, lass.” Father’s eyes were teary as he pulled her to him. “So sorry. I should’ve listened.”
“Aye, ye should’ve,” she harumphed. But there wasn’t much heat to it, considering she was being hugged by the man she’d been praying would see things her way.
Behind Father, there was a particularly loud clash of steel, and MacGill screamed, “I’ll kill ye for what ye did to my wife!”
Grace squirmed free of her father in time to see Barclay shake his head, even as he blocked a series of frantic blows from MacGill. “Yerwife? She’s no’ yer wife yet, ye monster.”
“The vows…have been said…” The older laird wasn’t tiring exactly, but hewasmoving a bit slower. “Naught ye can do…”
“Said byher?” Barclay danced out of the way of the other man’s blade, his movements almost mocking. “Or did ye and her father conspire against her? Did she say the words?”
Unable to contain herself, Grace screamed, “I didnae!”
Barclay shot a glance her way, and despite the helmet, she swore she could feel his smile.
“Grace, come away,” Father murmured, reaching for her shoulders once more.
“Nay,” she declared, pulling away from him. “Ye’re as much to fault for my state as he is.”
Her father moaned. “I ken it, and I am sorry. I will spend a lifetime apologizing, if that’s what it will take. Grace, I had nae idea he was as bad as ye said. I thought ye were making up lies in order to keep from marrying a man ye didnae care for.”
Her gaze was glued to the two men now circling one another before the great hearth. “Aye, I didnae care for him, Father. But my words were true.”
Father had seen evidence of MacGill’s rages, now. MacGill had threatenedFather. Surely the man understood.
“Aye, lass,” he admitted in a soft voice. “I see that now, and I am sorry for my part in this horror. Please forgive an auld man?”
Without pulling her gaze away from Barclay, Grace absentmindedly reached out and patted Father’s shoulder. “I forgive ye. Now go stand somewhere safe, eh?”
Instead, her father snorted and moved to stand beside her. “That’s what I was trying to getyeto do. So instead, the two of us will just stand here in the middle of it all like ninnies.”
Barclay had hopped up onto the main table, where Grace could imagine the wedding feast had been laid—herwedding feast, despite the fact she’d been unconscious during it—and danced between the platters while MacGill’s desperate slashes spilled leftover delicacies to the rushes on the floor.
“Father?” she murmured, eyes intently following Barclay.
“Aye, daughter?”
“Shut up.”
He made a choked sound, but Grace ignored him, because at that moment, MacGill swung his sword sideways, prompting Barclay to jump out of the way. Nimbly, he hopped to the bench, placed a booted foot on his combatant’s hip, and pushed MacGill backward.
The older man stumbled back, his sword flailing, as he screamed, “Ye bastard!”
To her surprise, Barclay began to laugh. ‘Twas notnicelaughter, and there was quite a bit of mocking in it.
“Aye, bastard indeed!” he declared, reaching for his helmet.
When he wrenched it off, his green eyes were cold, his jaw set.
Staring at his face, MacGill inhaled sharply.
Barclay jumped down, landing lightly, and began to stalk forward. His blade pointed at the floor, but his shoulders were held tightly, and only a fool would think him unprepared.
