Page 4 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
His tone left little room for argument, but Laird Gunn was not easily intimidated. He didn’t become the Laird of such a powerful clan without being a strong warrior.
“Laird MacLeon—” her father started, but he was quickly interrupted by the other man.
“Magnus.”
“Well, Magnus… I dinnae keep secrets from me family,” Laird Gunn continued, looking at the young man curiously.
Ciara watched as a muscle ticked in Magnus’s incredibly sculpted jaw. He was apparently not used to anyone disagreeing with him. Her mind raced with all the ways she could make that muscle tick, all the ways she could get a reaction out of this stoic man.
She imagined the two of them chest to chest, her looking up at him, not giving him an inch. Both of them breathing heavily through their argument.
She quickly pushed that scene out of her mind. Where had that thought come from, and why did she want to make it a reality?
“I’m here to discuss the ongoing war between our clans,” Magnus said, his voice deep and gravelly.
Laird Gunn waved his hand, indicating he should proceed.
Magnus huffed. “I didnae mean for this feud to continue as long as it has. At this point, I think we are both only attackin’ out of retribution and an attempt to defend our people.”
Laird Gunn nodded slowly in agreement. “Both our clans have lost too much, too many. We should find another way to end this feud,” Magnus added with a firm nod. One that said the matter was closed.
“Why should I trust ye?” Laird Gunn challenged.
Ciara saw a gleam of hope in her father’s eyes, but it was buried under so many years of conflict and loss. Her father was desperate to end this war, but he knew better than to take a man at his word, especially a MacLeon man.
“I’ve never been unjust,” Magnus replied simply, as if that should be obvious. How were they to even know that?
Ciara scoffed abruptly. “Not even when ye killed yer own faither?”
Her mouth just wouldn’t stay shut.
Magnus’s attention shifted to Ciara again. She felt it the moment his gaze landed on her. He took a slow step towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.
Ciara could feel Lana cowering, attempting to pull her back down to the couch with her. But Ciara stood her ground and held Magnus’s deep green gaze. The moment was eerily similar to the one she had just imagined.
“Did ye ever meet the man?” Magnus asked darkly.
“Aye,” Ciara said, not backing down.
“Well, I pity ye,” Magnus said with a dark chuckle. Ciara was gearing up to retort when he continued, “I wouldnae have thought ye liked the man, lass.”
When he moved to take another step towards her, her father intervened. He reached out a hand to grab Magnus by the arm, stopping his advance.
“Ye’re bein’ disrespectful,” Laird Gunn warned, his hand still clamped on Magnus’s arm.
When Magnus finally tore his gaze away from Ciara, he aggressively shook off her father’s hand. His tanned skin was flushed with anger.
For one tense moment, the two Lairds were locked in a staring contest. But Ciara watched as Magnus took a few quick breaths and seemed to swallow down his anger.
“This isnae why I came,” he said gruffly. He ran a hand through that long, tangled hair. “I cannae keep losin’ people and money for a feud that isnae even about me anymore. I thought ye would feel the same.” There was a hint of desperation and a long pause. He drew another deep breath before he added, “I suggest a duel.”
After a beat of silence, everyone started talking at once.
Lana sucked in a sharp breath. “Ye cannae!” she cried out.
Alexander moved towards his father. “Absolutely nae, Faither!”
“Dinnae do this,” Lady Gunn implored Magnus rather than her husband.
