“You would do well to remember your place. Anything that comes down upon you will be from your own doing. We must merely hope that your misconduct has not reached England yet. I should never have allowed you to come to Scotland. The Marquess of Wellton will have to be persuaded to marry you, however compromised you may be.”
Magnus was unfamiliar with the name, but he could tell from Leah’s expression alone that her father’s choice repulsed her.
“Papa, he is older than you!” she exclaimed, her hands coming up to her stomach as they began rubbing in a circular motion, a sign of her distress that Magnus knew well.
“He is richer than me, too,” her father sneered. “You would do well to remember such things when you are a pariah. It is all very well waiting for love when one is living in the gutter, and no one in the world wants you.”
Magnus advanced on him, cold rage settling within him as he imagined ripping the man limb from limb right there in the corridor. Yet, Burton was not to be cowed by anyone. He stood up to his full height, fixing his withering gaze on Magnus before he finished his tirade.
“As for you, I should expect that Laird MacIrvin can see me satisfied for the offense you have caused to me and my house!”
He stepped back just as Magnus heard the familiar scraping of steel as MacIrvin unsheathed his sword.
Magnus reached for his own sword on instinct, settling into a familiar stance as he looked at his assailant. It was almost a relief. Fighting was easy—far easier, in fact, than the things he was feeling for Leah.
Although he would have preferred not to harm MacIrvin, he would defend his honor—he had done nothing wrong.
MacIrvin advanced on him, his expression determined but unsure. Their alliance hung in the balance as it was, without being pitted against one another by a man unfamiliar with their customs.
Magnus gripped the handle of his blade. He was about to pull it free when a great cry went up behind him.
“No!” Leah ran forward, her tiny frame dwarfed by almost every man there, yet she stood her ground, her arms outstretched in front of her.
She was protecting him, Magnus realized with a rush of affection. Her arms were held out at either side of her small body, her wrinkled dress whispering over the cobbled floor as she ran in front of him, her expression one of righteous indignation.
Something about this tiny woman coming to his aid sent a wave of happiness through him. He could not stop a small smile from forming across his lips.
As Leah came to stand in front of him, MacIrvin and Magnus looked at one another, a silent conversation passing between them. Magnus could tell that neither of them wanted to fight. Not only would it cause all kinds of problems between the clans, but he was reluctant to shed any blood in his halls for what was, in truth, anEnglishmatter.
MacIrvin slowly lowered his sword. It appeared they were all at a stalemate.
After a few seconds of frozen uncertainty, MacIrvin dropped his sword completely, and Magnus sheathed his as well.
Lord Burton’s eyes flicked between them incessantly as Leah took a step forward.
“My father is right,” she said simply, looking back at Magnus with an almost apologetic expression.
The tall woman at the head of the corridor stepped forward, her mouth open as though to refute that statement, but Leah held up a hand.
“It is alright, Katie. I am to blame. I was the one who chose to hide from my father and come here.” She turned to Burton, her chin held high. “Laird MacWatt was kind enough to indulge me but purely because he had no choice in the matter. He has done nothing wrong.”
That last statement was also aimed at MacIrvin, and Leah jutted her chin, daring him to argue the point.
MacIrvin raised his eyes to the heavens as though her fiery temper was something he had encountered before and placed his sword back in the sheath at his belt.
“That is as may be,” her father protested, waving his finger in front of Magnus’s face again. “But no one will believe you were here alone for days on end with nothing having occurred between you. A lady’s honor is at stake! Scandal, slander, infamy. That is what awaits you in the halls of polite society.”
As he said the words ‘polite society,’ he glanced about the castle as though he were as far from that world as was possible.
Magnus counted slowly to ten, slowing his breathing and reminding himself that he was not permitted to slice the man in two, no matter how much Leah might thank him for his service.
“I assume you are going to marry my daughter to save her from ruin?”
Magnus’s head snapped around to look at the Earl. The man’s face was mottled with sweat, his nostrils flaring in indignation, but his gaze was determined and resolute.
Magnus stared at him, feeling dread coil in his gut at the very idea of what he was suggesting.
He looked at MacIrvin, who seemed just as shocked as he was.
