“Nay good?” the man shouted. “I can prevent another innocent woman from meeting the same fate as me daughter’s.”
A rumbling murmur rose among the onlookers as they began to speculate about the scene unfolding before them.
“What is he talking about, MacWatt?” the Earl pressed.
For once, Leah was not angered by her father’s interruption—it was a question she wished to ask herself.
Magnus stepped forward, almost chest to chest with Gibson, and spoke in a low voice, “This isnae the time or the place for this. Ye have made yer point many times?—”
“Ye cannae deny me!” Gibson shouted. “I willnae see another lass destroyed by her association with a man such as ye.”
There was a louder murmur from the crowd as all eyes in the room turned to Magnus.
Leah stared up at him, utterly confused.
Magnus looked back at her then, and it was that look in his eye that truly made a ripple of fear run through her. It was not a look of anger or denial, but one of guilt.
“Who is this man, Magnus?” she asked, her voice loud in the quiet room. “Of whom is he speaking?”
Laird Gibson’s eyes fell on her, and as soon as they did, they softened. He bowed low and shook his head.
“I am sorry, lass, I didnae wish to ruin yer weddin’ day?—”
“Ye willnae speak to her. Ye have arrived unannounced and uninvited!” Magnus roared.
Leah flinched; she had not seen him lose his temper before.
Gibson scoffed at him. “Does she ken of the man she has wed? Try to deny that ye killed me child!”
A great gasp went up from the crowd, and Leah’s eyes met her father’s as they were suddenly united in confusion and dismay.
“Magnus, what is he talking about?” she demanded, sweat beading on the base of her spine when she saw Magnus’s hollow gaze and despairing expression.
“I shall tell her if ye dinnae,” Gibson warned, and it was as if Magnus were carved from marble. He did not move or speak, and Leah felt cold dread settle in her gut.
Gibson stepped forward, sneering at him with utter contempt.
“A coward and a killer,” he hissed, clearly enjoying the spectacle he had created.
His gaze fell on Leah, and once more, his eyes softened.
“A long time ago, Clan MacWatt and Clan Gibson were embroiled in the clan wars. The fighting had been going on for decades. Our people were spent and tired, scattered to the winds and divided beyond repair. I kenned that an alliance had to be made if we were ever to see peace, so I chose for me daughter to marry.”
From the corner of her eye, Leah saw Magnus move his right hand to the hilt of the dirk at his belt.
“Elizabeth, me only daughter, would marry the heir to Clan MacWatt. Our alliance would unite us and make us a force to be reckoned with, beating the other smaller clans into submission and finally bringing peace to our lands.”
The whole room was hanging on Gibson’s every word as his gaze fell on Leah, his eyes sad and filled with pain.
“It worked for a time, and there was peace,” he continued, his voice rising steadily in volume, “until yer husband murdered me child in cold blood so that he could rule without the inconvenience of a wife he’d been forced to take out of duty.” He turned to glare at Magnus. “History does have a habit of repeatin’ itself, does it nae? Shall I take yer other eye in recompense and be done with this for good?”
Leah clapped her hand over her mouth as she looked at Magnus. His jaw was set, his expression dark and brooding.
Her father took a step forward as Gibson turned to face him.
“Is this true?” he asked, horror lacing every word as he looked up at Magnus.
“Ye’re this lass’s faither?” Gibson asked, his face twisted into a grimace. “Ye’ve unwittingly made her marry a murderer, just as I did me daughter.”
