Page 81 of A Hellion for the Highland Hawk
Laird MacLeach nodded, coming to a stop five paces away. “I was angry then,” he said, his voice catching. “She was the jewel of me life, Laird Lochlann, and… when she died, I was so deep in me grief that I neededsomeone to blame, because I couldnae very well blame the bairn or the heavens that took her from me.”
“But she wasnae well at the end,” he went on, his brow furrowed as if in pain. “She wouldnae eat or sleep. She saw things that werenae there. She saw her braither and spoke to him as if he were still alive. When it came to her labors, she was so thin, so sick, that I already kent she wouldnae survive it.”
Hunter didn’t quite know what to do. He hadn’t expected this when he’d walked in. It couldbe trickery. He wasn’t foolish enough to rule that out, but there was something so sad, so defeated about the old man’s demeanor that it was enough to give him pause.
“I ken why ye killed me son,” Laird MacLeach continued. “He tried to kill ye first. What man wouldnae defend himself? Yet, yesent me daughter back to me. Ye could have killed her too for her betrayal, but ye didnae. Ye gave me those last months with her, and for that, I’m grateful.”
“I never harmed her,” Hunter said stiffly. “I never would have.”
Laird MacLeach nodded. “I ken, and… that’s why I forgive ye. I forgive ye, and I want to sincerely offer me congratulations. Ye’re a good man, and ye’ll serve yer clan well.” He held out his hand. “I’m glad me granddaughter will have a maither, even if it’s nae me daughter. I’m glad me granddaughter will ken peace instead of war, and I mean to see that continuing. Ye’ll have nay fight from me anymore.”
“And I’m supposed to trust that?” Hunter asked, his eyebrow raised.
Laird MacLeach tapped the white armband. “I hope that ye do, Laird Lochlann.” He took a step closer. “Have we nae all lost too much already?”
“Aye, I reckon we have.”
Despite every instinct screaming at him not to approach, and the image of Nancy’s horrified face if she saw him walking right into a trap, Hunter closed the gap between them. With a breath, he took the old man’s hand.
The attack didn’t come. The trap didn’t snap shut. There was just Laird MacLeach’s rough palm against his, shaking an agreementthat they’d both had enough of war and loss and revenge and bloodshed.
Hunter couldn’t quite believe it.
“Ye daenae mean to strike, then?” he said, staring at the older man’s hand.
Laird MacLeach let out a sad chuckle. “Nay, Laird Lochlann, unless it’s to strike a peace treaty and a promise of trade.” He let go of Hunter’s hand and took a moment to look around the chapel. “I’ll nae stay for the ceremony, but I wish ye well, ye and the new Lady.”
“I’ll convey yer well wishes,” Hunter said, dumbfounded as Laird MacLeach bowed his head and, brushing something from his cheek once more, made his way out of the chapel.
A few moments later, Beathan entered. “Laird MacLeach says ye’ve reached an understanding? Are we to just let him go?”
“Aye, we are,” Hunter replied as he turned to stare at the stained-glass window that had held the old laird so enraptured.
“Is that wise, Hunter?” Beathan cautioned.
More footsteps thundered in.
“Is it true that he just came to offer ye congratulations?” Jack’s voice asked.
Hunter allowed himself a smile, still bewildered. “Aye, it is. So, please see to it that Laird MacLeach and his men are permitted safe passage out of Lochlann lands.” His heart swelled with hope. “It seems we’re to have peace,truepeace, at last.”
“That’s fine news for a weddin’ day,” Jack said brightly. “Och, I kent ye could change yer fate. Ye deserve this, Hunter. And on this day of all days! Aye, ye deserve it, just as ye deserve a wife that ye adore, standin’ at yer side. Och, a happy day, indeed.”
His retreating footsteps were swift, like he couldn’t wait to spread the joyful news, even to those who didn’t know the full extent of the joy.
There was no doubt in Hunter’s mind that the threat was supposed to come from Laird MacLeach, and now it had passed without him having to make a single strike with his sword.
There would be no bloodshed in this chapel. There would be no loss. The tapestry had gotten it wrong.
“Ye deserve nothin’,” a harsh voice hissed behind him. “Ye deserve nothin’ but a cold grave.”
“Is he inside?” Nancy rasped, her lungs on fire as she skidded to a halt outside the chapel.
Strangely, there was a crowd of people leaving already, heading out across sweeping moorland on foot and horseback. People that she didn’t recognize.
“Aye,” Jack replied, his arm wrapped around Elsie’s shoulders. “Laird MacLeach didnae do anythin’. He just came to wish ye and Hunter well. Then, he left.”
“No… no, it’s a trick,” Nancy whispered, more to herself than to him. “It has to be.”
