Page 3 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
“Have they?” Ciara asked simply.
Her father scoffed but didn’t reply directly. Instead, he said harshly, “That man is exactly like his faither.”
Ciara’s sister, Lana, and their mother were in the study as well. They sat huddled together on the couch by the fireplace. Normally, they both spent their time in the stables or the garden, but Ciara had rarely been in the castle as of late.
And with the news of their clansmen dying in battle, everyone seemed to congregate today. Despite the circumstances, Ciara’s heart warmed at the sight of her younger sister. She had missed her and their family fiercely.
“Is it true what they say about him?” Lana asked innocently. “That he killed his faither to take over the Lairdship?” Her voice trembled at the second half of her question, and Ciara tensed.
Lana, as the baby in the family, was typically shielded from the harsher realities of war, but try as they might, they could not stop all the rumors from reaching her ears.
Highlanders were notorious gossips, and the news of a son killing his father in a duel had spread like the plague across the area. Every time Ciara heard the story, it became increasingly gruesome.
“Clan MacLeon was without an official Laird for at least a year after the former Laird died in a duel. We ken this,” Ciara reminded everyone. “It doesnae make sense that his son killed him for the position and then fled.”
As much as the gossip mill churned, they knew that much for certain. It was a curious thing. The man killed the former Laird MacLeon and then disappeared completely. She’d met the old Laird once, years ago, the last time her father had attempted to strike a peace deal. A lot could be said about the former Laird, but Ciara was very glad she’d never have to see him again.
“The boy did still kill his own faither though, and there’s been no explanation at all as to why, or where the lad had been all these years. We didnae even know the old Laird had a son,” her mother chimed in.
They still knew little about the mysterious son who eventually took over the Lairdship. Ciara could admit that not much had changed about the feud, but she’d heard whispers in town that the new Laird was not quite as vile. She didn’t relay that sentiment to her family, though. Laird MacLeon would always be the enemy in this castle.
Lana feigned a shudder and said, “I cannae imagine anythin’ more cruel. I hope I never have to meet this man in person.”
Their father let out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, ye will, and very soon. The Laird has requested a hearin’, and he’ll arrive any minute now.”
2
The room was silent for a moment after Laird Gunn’s announcement.
“He’s comin’ here?” Lana managed to squeak out, inching closer to her mother on the couch.
Ciara watched her with concern—maybe they still had time to take Lana elsewhere. Surely, she didn’t need to meet Laird MacLeon.
“Aye,” their father said with an apologetic wince.
As Ciara was gearing up to shuffle Lana out of the study, the door suddenly burst open. In walked… Well, Ciara wasn’t quite sure how to describe the beast who barged into the room.
The man seemed to suck out all the air in the formerly cozy space with his entrance. He was forced to angle his body just to fit his broad frame through the doorway.
She scarcely noticed the way her father and brother stiffened in their chairs, each rising up, or the way two of their guards sputtered from behind the man. No, Ciara was entranced. Her eyes locked on the being in front of her.
The candlelight from the hall bathed him in a soft glow that contrasted with the rest of him, which was… not at all soft. Even when her father and brother stood to their full height, this man towered over them.
His dark hair was windblown from his ride here but was loose and hung just above his shoulders. Ciara had the strongest urge to run her fingers through it, smoothing it out for him. She licked her lips once before she forced herself to look away.
She noticed that her sister was staring at him as well, paralyzed by the sight of the man she had hoped to never meet. Lana’s eyes were wide and round, but it was obvious Ciara was having a very different reaction to this man. She couldn’t place it exactly, but it definitely wasn’t the crippling fear she saw on her sister’s face.
Yes, this man screamed violence, and despite his outerwear, it was obvious he had the muscle needed to inflict cruelty. But he was also the most handsome man Ciara had ever seen, by far. Her gaze snapped back to the man’s face when she heard him take another step into the room.
He really was gorgeous in a fierce way.
Ciara squirmed in her seat the longer she stared. She foolishly patted down her hair and sat up straighter. The man’s green eyes were dark and turbulent, and she was sure she saw the same weariness in them that her father’s eyes held. That small hint of humanity had her even more curious about the mysterious Laird.
The man seemed to take them all in one at a time. Was Ciara just imagining the way his gaze lingered just a little bit longer on her? But then his gaze was flicking to everyone else in the room again. When his gaze landed on Lana, the girl shivered under his stare, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
Without thinking, Ciara stood up and moved to block Lana from his view. Whatever his intentions, Ciara would shield her sister. Lana, for her part, did her best to stay hidden.
The man’s eyes finally settled on her father. “Laird Gunn, thank ye for agreein’ to see me,” he said in a gruff voice. He then turned his gaze to Ciara and her sister. “But I would rather talk alone.”
