Page 57 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
“I didnae see anyone actin’ suspicious, just yer usual revelry. And it could have been anyone, as there were many people in the castle last night,” Ewan replied.
The Laird sighed. “Aye, that’s exactly me concern.”
“Considering that the lady of the castle is in danger, perhaps a council meetin’ is in order,” Ewan suggested.
“Indeed,” Magnus agreed darkly, steepling his fingers. “Send for them all at once,” he ordered.
His man-at-arms quickly left the room to do as he was bid—the updates could wait. His councilmen would be arriving shortly. None of them, not even the stodgiest of them, would dare ignore a direct and urgent summons from their Laird.
Still, Magnus took his time. He went through a few letters that Ewan had dropped off. They’d received a few replies regarding the village, and it was looking promising.
Other clans were intrigued by the prospect of strengthening their alliance by sending their people to work the fields. Some wanted gold or a portion of the food grown down the line, but it was all very reasonable. He was tentatively pleased and hopeful.
When he’d finished penning his responses, he stood up, stretching his back, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. It was a tradition now for these council meetings.
He casually walked out of his study, stopping to talk with servants he passed or to look out the windows. It was a power play, making his councilmen wait for him.
One window looked directly out onto the gardens, and he grinned when he caught sight of Ciara out there with Olivia and Elspeth. With the sun shining on her hair, and laughter brightening her face, she looked radiant.
He only wished he could be out there, soaking up her joy rather than dealing with these men. But if this council meeting could help keep her happiness shining through, then he would endure a hundred of them. And once they eliminated this threat, he would show her just how much he adored her smile.
Finally, he made his way to the council room and leisurely walked inside. His councilmen sat around the table, waiting for him. He was met with a few glares, but he just smirked and took his seat at the head of the table.
After another healthy sip of whiskey, he said, “Thank ye for comin’.”
Nae like they had another choice.
“I called ye all here to discuss a threat I received last night sometime during the cèilidh,” he announced, then paused.
He took the time to study everyone in the room. He and James had agreed last night that a member of the council was a very likely suspect. Prejudice against Clan Gunn ran deep, especially among the older generation. And someone on the council might think they had enough power and immunity to make such a blatant threat against their Laird.
They did not.
Magnus saw some blank faces, but no one looked wary yet.
“In short, this person, whoever they are, threatened me wife and yerLady, claiming that all of Clan Gunn should be worried and that the feud was far from over.”
Again, Magnus scanned their faces, looking for signs of unease or even agreement with what the note had suggested. No one spoke for a long moment.
“Does anyone have anythin’ to say about that?” he asked. “The feud is over,” he stated unequivocally, “and anyone who acts otherwise is disobeying their Laird.”
Another long silence fell over the room. A few of his councilmen looked uncomfortable now, and he silently gestured for James to note exactly who seemed uneasy.
“We cannae act like nothin’ is wrong anymore,” his eldest councilman, Callum McDonald, finally burst out, breaking the silence. He turned to the other councilmen. “This man murdered his own faither!” Then he turned back to Magnus. “And then ye come in here, makin’ decrees and changin’ the way we’ve done things for years! It is difficult for the people to like ye and trust yer choices if ye dinnae give an explanation.”
Magnus’s blood roared. He hadn’t realized how calming Ciara’s presence had been until he felt that familiar anger rear its head back with a vengeance.
“There is nay explanation needed,” Magnus barked.
He made sure to meet the eyes of every councilman in the room once again, letting them see the threat in his gaze. Callum McDonald was on his list of suspects, but he did not think him the type to make anonymous threats.
This outburst had only reinforced the belief that if Callum wanted to strike against him, he would do it directly, without any preface. Still, Magnus made it abundantly clear how he would handle any threat, direct or otherwise.
“I did kill me faither, and I’ll kill anyone who dares threaten me wife,” Magnus announced to the silent room. He heard a couple of throats bobbing, but no one dared speak again. “As she is the lady of this clan, and ye are me councilmen, I expect yer full support,” he finished.
He gave his councilmen one last threatening look and then stormed out of the room, downing his whiskey as he went.
What a bloody waste of time.
