Page 72 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
His father would never truly be gone, not while Magnus still drew breath. And if he ever had an heir, his father’s legacy would keep on living. It made himsick,to think of that violent, cruel blood coursing through his veins.
All he’d wanted when he took over the Lairdship eventually was to be better than his father. For a year, he had carried on exactly as his father did, too angry and bitter to think beyond himself. And now, in front of the entire village and this one elderly man, would come his reckoning.
“When ye first took over, not much changed, not really. We were still dyin’ in droves, sendin’ our boys off to fight in a war I cannae even remember why we started in the first place—and I’m veryold, lad.”
Magnus fought the urge to double over and retch.
“Then we started hearin’ about less senseless cruelty. Nay former maids with hollow looks in their eyes showed up in the village, seekin’ refuge. Nay reports of blood sports. But still, we fought.
“I’ve been around long enough that I remember how things were before the feud began, but generations of us were taught to hate Clan Gunn with everythin’ we had. Because if we could convince ourselves to hate them, then maybe, just maybe, dyin’ was worth somethin’. I watched sons and grandsons go off to fight and die for a cause they didnae truly understand. And then the feud ended, just like that,” the old man continued, eyeing Ciara as he spoke.
He paused, but not as if he was waiting for a response. More like he was considering his next words carefully.
“I rejoiced, even as many around me called for the feud to continue. The hatred was so ingrained in them at that point, that livin’ peacefully never occurred to them. But I still had me doubts about ye, lad…” He paused again, for even longer this time.
The silence was deafening in the square. Everyone seemed to lean forward to hear the end. Magnus was on the edge of his seat, waiting for the words that might very well damn him.
“And then ye came here. Ye came and ye listened to our problems. Ye laughed with us, and ye helped.” Magnus had stopped breathing, but the man’s gaze bored into him, urging him to pay attention. “Yer faitherneverwould have done that.”
Magnus let out the shakiest exhale, and it seemed like the gathered crowd did the same. Everyone’s shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit.
The old man reached out a hand, and Magnus scrambled to his feet and took it.
“Thanks for killin’ the old bastard,” the man muttered in his ear.
Magnus let out a choked laugh. “It was me pleasure,” he whispered back.
27
Ciara let out the breath she’d been holding when Magnus shook the elder villager’s hand. With that handshake, she swore she saw some of the tension drain from her husband’s posture.
She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed the way his fingers had been digging into her thigh— almost involuntarily. It tore at her heart just as she preened over the fact that he was turning to her for comfort.
Knowing what she did about Magnus and his father, she knew that conversation was so much more than just another petition. For so long, Magnus been trying to escape the memory of his father, and this moment felt like the first step of him acknowledging he was not the same man.
When he barked out a laugh at something the older man said, she knew he would be just fine.
With a heavy sigh, she finally let herself relax in the chair, tempted to close her eyes for a moment. The long day was catching up to her, and despite all their success, she wanted it to be over.
The thought of riding back to the castle had her groaning, though. Magnus might have to actually worry about her falling off the horse tonight. Maybe they could ride together and lead the other horse.
In the circle of his arms, with his chest pressed against her back, she would fall asleep in no time. There was no doubt in her mind that the Laird would keep her safe.
Sighing again, she let her eyes drift shut. Just then, the clearing of a throat at her side had her hesitantly opening her eyes. The mother of the young boy from earlier was standing beside her.
“Ye look like ye could use a rest,” she remarked.
“Aye, is it that obvious?”
The woman raised an eyebrow but politely didn’t comment on the fact that Ciara’s eyes were closed. “We have a spare bedroom at home. If ye’d like to rest in the village for the night and travel back in the mornin’, ye are welcome to stay at me home,” she offered.
A bed.
Ciara felt her whole body sigh at the thought. She wouldn’t have to ride tonight or travel more than a couple of minutes—the idea was pure bliss.
“Aye, aye, please. That would be wonderful,” she murmured, not even bothering to check with Magnus. She could see his exhaustion clearly. Even though the older man had soothed something in him, he was still weary.
“Ye just let the Laird ken,” the woman added and gave her a knowing smile.
