Men with their cups raised to their mouths lowered them in disbelief as she took another deep breath and howled again, Gabriel’s arms stiffening around her.
Children gaped, while their flustered mothers attempted to cover their ears.
A serving woman dropped her tray to the floor with a clatter.
Still Gabriel carried her deeper into the cavernous room until they reached a massive fireplace where logs crackled and burned; only then did he plop her down quite roughly into a carved chair—aye, just as she’d thought! His care and concern had only been a ruse, her cruel brother’s choice for a husband once again showing his true colors.
How could Gabriel be anything different than Seoras? He wouldn’t have risen so high in her brother’s service if he wasn’t as ruthless, as hard-hearted.
Now Magdalene took so great a breath that she felt dizzy. She jumped up from the chair and howled as loudly as she could muster while Gabriel’s expression grew all the darker.
What was he going to do? Strike her? Throw her over his shoulder and carry her right back upstairs and dump her into her room? Aye, that’s how men of his ilk treated their wives. That’s how Debora had been treated and worse—och, her poor wretched sister!
Out of the corner of her eye, Magdalene saw several of Gabriel’s warriors even cross themselves—including that giant oaf, Finlay, who had thwarted her escape the other night. They rose from their tables to leave the hall, but a sharp gesture from Gabriel made everyone freeze in place.
No one moving.
No one speaking.
Not one utterance to be heard except for Magdalene throwing her head back to howl one last time, for truly, she felt too out of breath to continue. She collapsed into the chair and braced herself for Gabriel’s next move, but a tinier howl just behind her made her gasp and twist around to see little Rhona imitating her.
And quite ably, too, except for erupting the next instant into giggles that seemed to dispel the air of tension as if sunlight had burst into the windowless hall.
“Do it again, Mama, do it again!”
Smiling in spite of herself, Magdalene didn’t have the heart to ignore the child, who had run up to the chair and grabbed her arm. Together, the two of them threw back their heads and howled in unison while laughter rippled across the hall, but nothing could have surprised her more than the sound of Gabriel chuckling.
Chuckling!
Chapter 10
“Papa, you do it, too!” cried Rhona in between giggles that left her cherub’s face flushed pink and her dark curls bobbing as she fairly danced beside the chair.
If Magdalene had felt surprised a moment ago, she couldn’t have been more amazed when Gabriel obliged his niece and emitted a howl so full-throated and drawn out that once again, the hall fell silent.
Everyone watching the astonishing display while Rhona ran laughing toward Gabriel, who swung the child up into his arms and hugged her tightly.
No longer howling but laughing, too, a warm, robust sound that made Magdalene blush just to hear it, never having thought such a thing was possible from him.
Clearly he loved Rhona to indulge her so, but why wouldn’t he? They were blood kin after all, while she was an unwanted lunatic wife foisted upon him by her brother, so why couldn’t he just let her return to the convent?
The unjustness of it all overwhelmed Magdalene so suddenly that tears bit her eyes, but she blinked away the moisture when she saw that Gabriel was looking at her.
No longer laughing, though he gave Rhona another hug before putting her down as an older woman rushed forward to claim her.
“Has Rhona eaten, Grania?” he queried, never taking his eyes from Magdalene’s face, much to her discomfort.
“Not yet, Laird, we were just sitting down over there”—Grania nodded to a nearby table where Magdalene saw that Keira sat waiting—“when you and your wife came into the hall.”
“Join us, then.”
As Grania nodded and waved for Keira to come over to them, Magdalene got a good look at the nurse who had called her a madwoman last night—aye, she’d heard her well enough over the rain and thunder.
Grania might be old, but she possessed a wiry ease of movement that belied her advancing years. Her face, too, bore few wrinkles, and Magdalene could tell from her fine features and lively hazel eyes that once she must have been quite beautiful.
Magdalene had overheard as well that the woman had tended to Gabriel’s father and to Gabriel and his brother, Malcolm, so Grania had long held a place of trust and great responsibility in the MacLachlans’ household. With practiced efficiency, the nurse shepherded the two girls to the table where Gabriel had indicated for them to sit, yet still his gaze never left Magdalene—which made her bristle.
Why was he staring at her so? One moment glowering at her and the next moment laughing so uproariously, and then as somber as a priest. Who was the mad one here?
