Chapter 15
The wedding had passed in a blur. Before she knew what was happening, it was all over, and they were man and wife.
Standing at the edge of the dancefloor, watching her new husband speaking to their guests, Leah felt like she was living in a dream world.
Despite trying to stay as present as possible during the ceremony, things still hadn’t felt real to her. She looked at Magnus across the room, his towering form dwarfing every other man there save for Oskar. He looked incredibly handsome in his Highland trews and formal dress.
She felt a pang of discomfort as she remembered her ill-advised proposition the night before. Perhaps they had shared a kiss, but Magnus had made it very clear that they would lead separate lives once they got married.
She had gone back to her room feeling like a fool. It had taken all her strength to face him that morning without blushing. She had never blushed so much since she had known this man.
“I kenned it would suit ye,” a voice behind her said.
Leah turned with a smile to see Betty approaching. She glanced down at her wedding gown, which the healer had produced out of nowhere the night before.
“It is very beautiful. Thank you for all you have done,” Leah said as Betty smiled and brushed a hand down the folds of the pale blue fabric.
It was incredibly beautiful, with silver stitching across the length of it, and intricate images of moons and stars adorning the fabric, catching the light and glittering everywhere she went.
“I’ve never seen such a bonnie bride—he is a lucky laird, indeed.”
Leah forced a smile, wondering how much of their future this old woman might have seen. Magnus might not believe her strange prophecies, but Leah was rather more open-minded about the magic that existed in the world.
“What did you see when you saw our future together?” Leah asked quietly, watching Betty’s lips curl into a surprised smile.
“Ye believe me, lass? That is a first.”
Leah grinned. “I would never presume to deny anyone their gifts. I have been forced all my life to do what is expected of a lady, and I can neither play an instrument nor thread a needle with any skill. We all have our talents. If they are not what society expects, all the better.”
Betty’s eyes were sparkling as she looked at her, and she nodded. “I saw ye together. I saw ye happy, lass. Magnus deserves some happiness, of that I am sure.”
Leah opened her mouth, wanting to ask what form their happiness might take, when Betty sucked in a hissing breath, her fingers clenching around the cane in her hand.
“Betty?” Leah asked with concern.
“Company’s coming,” Betty muttered, her expression grim, her eyes losing all flicker of amusement.
Leah frowned, about to probe further into what the woman meant, when suddenly a hush fell over the room, and beautiful, lilting music filled the air. She turned to find MacWatt, Magnus, standing before her, holding out his hand with a half smile.
“I wish to dance with me bride, if she’ll have me,” he asked.
Soft chuckles rang out around the room as the crowd heard his words.
Leah took his hand immediately, aware of the many eyes in the room watching them, but glanced back at Betty with concern. The healer was watching the door, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance that did not seem altogether in the present.
Leah followed Magnus to the center of the room, and as they began their first dance, she attempted to forget the intense feeling of unease that she had experienced at Betty’s outburst.
“Are we to have a waltz as our first dance?” she asked curiously as Magnus cocked his head at her.
“I thought ye might nae ken any Scottish dances, lass, but that’ll change in time.”
Leah looked up at him thoughtfully. “Will you teach them to me then?” she asked.
“Och, I’m sure someone will.”
She felt her stomach tighten at yet another rejection, and an overwhelming sense of sadness weighed her down as she imagined the limited time she had with her husband.
She did not understand why he was so convinced they should live separately. To be sure, this would not have been the marriage she had envisioned, but it felt as though they should at least try to get to know one another.
Magnus seemed intent on pushing her away. She glanced about her at the assembled company, wishing to address the situation with him but knowing now was not the right time.
Focusing on less contentious topics, she tightened her grip as he spun her around the room.
“I believe this has gone better than either of us expected,” she said, looking at the warm and happy smiles their dance was eliciting.
The match was clearly well received by the majority, despite its abrupt inception.
“Aye,” Magnus replied. “The council is happy for once. I never thought I’d see Lord Mortimer smile, but I was proved wrong today.” He glanced briefly across the room as his expression hardened slightly. “Yer faither seems happy.”
Leah had to admit that she had been surprised by her father’s pleasure at Magnus’s proposal. Although he had been the one to suggest the union to save her honor, she knew the Earl of Burton looked down on Highlanders and believed them beneath the higher-class English set.
It was to his detriment, she thought bitterly. She had never known such kind and generous people, and could well understand why her best friend had been swept away by these wild hills and grassy moorlands.
Despite his earlier fury, her father seemed almost cheerful as they passed him. He was bouncing on his toes as the music continued, looking about him as though he had devised the greatest marriage imaginable.
She pictured what her life might have been like with the Marquess of Wellton and shuddered. Magnus’s grip tightened on her waist, and she shook her head, smiling up at him upon seeing his concerned gaze.
“All is well. I was just imagining what my first dance might have been like with Wellton.”
Magnus snorted. “He probably couldnae have managed a waltz—ye might have had to push him about the floor in a chair.”
Leah found herself laughing at that. “He is hardly an invalid. He is the same age as my father.”
“Aye, are ye sayin’ you’d prefer to have married Wellton?” Magnus asked, an amused glint in his eye. “Thirty years isnae so much between the two of ye, after all. He might have been able to pick up a bairn without breaking his back if he did manage to make one.”
Leah shook her head in mock outrage at his joke, but her heart was singing that Magnus was able to tease her in such a way.
He seemed relaxed and happy, the heavy burdens he carried forgotten as he held her easily, as though she weighed nothing at all.
She felt as though she were dancing on clouds, suspended in the air, with only his arms to support her—she needed nothing else.
The dance came to an end, and they slowly came to a standstill. Magnus looked up at the band, about to request another song, when they heard a great commotion at the back of the room.
Leah looked over Magnus’s shoulder as a large company of men burst into the wide entrance hall.
Many of them looked as though they were dressed for battle, and Leah felt ice rush through her veins as they pushed the guests aside roughly.
They came to stand in the center of the room, and shocked shouts of outrage echoed about the space.
At the head of the rabble was a huge man, almost the same size as Magnus but much older. He had dark brown hair and a full beard streaked with layers of grey.
He strode into the hall, his men parting like the Red Sea before him. Leah glanced back at Betty, who was watching the newcomer with the same fearful wariness that she had seen on her face earlier.
“This wedding must be stopped!” the man shouted.
Magnus took a step to the side, shielding Leah from the man’s gaze as he squared off against him, his jaw tight.
Does Magnus know this man? Who is he, and why has he not been invited to the wedding?
Endless questions bounced around her mind as she stared at Magnus’s tight shoulders.
The stranger looked like a laird, just as Magnus was, and it would have been customary to invite every laird from the surrounding area to their wedding.
She frowned as the men circled the room, standing in front of the crowd and making a human shield around their leader.
Magnus grabbed Leah’s arm, pushing her further behind him, his grip firm and almost painful as he maneuvered her out of sight.
“Let the lass go, Magnus,” the newcomer ordered, taking another step forward and glowering at him with obvious disgust. “Ye cannae protect her either way.”
“What is the meaning of this?” a voice demanded from the other side of the room.
Leah stole a glance at her father, who, as usual, was using his arrogance and pride to try to take control of a situation he was clearly ill-equipped to manage.
The Earl pushed forward, looking at the newcomer in outrage. “This is my daughter’s wedding. Who is this man, MacWatt? Who is he to you?”
Magnus was utterly still, gazing at the newcomer with a mix of sorrow and defiance.
“Leave this place, Gibson,” he said in a low, threatening voice. “Ye can do nay good here,” he growled.
“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.