Read Online The Saint by Monica Mccarty - Free Book Online Page A

upper hand. He let off a barrage of blows that would have knocked Sutherland senseless if someone hadn’t pulled him back.
    “Stop! Damn it, MacKay, that’s enough!”
    He was grabbed from behind, an arm around his neck. He reacted instinctively, twisting and intending to use the momentum and leverage to throw the other man over his head, but recognition broke through the haze.
    It was Gordon. What the hell was he doing here?
    From the look on Sutherland’s face, he was wondering the same thing.
    “What is this about?” Gordon looked back and forth between them. His eyes narrowed with an intensity that gave Magnus an uneasy prickle. “Or perhaps I don’t need to ask? If you two want to kill each other, do it someplace else. This isn’t the time.”
    He was right. Magnus was ashamed he’d let the bastard get to him. He didn’t try to offer an excuse.
    He and Sutherland exchanged a look. Despite his taunts, it was clear Sutherland had no intention of telling Gordon about Helen. His intent had only been to torment Magnus with what he knew.
    Gordon looked at them both in disgust. “Leave us,” he said to Sutherland. “There is something MacKay and I need to discuss—alone.”
    Magnus suspected Sutherland was more concerned by Gordon’s pronouncement than he let on. But he ceded to his demand with a curt nod to Gordon and a look toward Magnus that promised this was not over.
    Magnus poured some cold water into a basin and dunked his face, as much to clean the blood left by Sutherland’sfists as to shock the whisky from his blood. He suspected he was going to need a clear head for what Gordon was about to say.
    He wiped the water away with a drying cloth and turned to face his friend.
    His trepidation spiked. Now that they were alone, he could see the rare signs of fury in Gordon’s normally cheerful face. Even before he spoke, Magnus knew.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “There was—is—nothing to tell.”
    Gordon’s eyes flared with anger. “You didn’t think I might be interested to know that my closest friend was in love with my betrothed?”
    “Whatever existed between Helen and me was over before I met you.”
    “Is that right?” Gordon challenged. “So you are telling me that you no longer have feelings for her?”
    Magnus clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He wanted to deny it, but they both knew it would be a lie.
    Gordon shook his head. “You should have told me. I would have stepped aside.”
    “So that she could marry someone else? It wouldn’t have mattered. Her family hates me. You see how well her brother and I get along. I’d rather see her with someone who deserves her. Someone who could make her happy.”
    “How bloody noble of you,” Gordon said, not hiding his bitterness. “But how in the hell is that supposed to happen when she’s thinking about another man each time I make love to her?”
    Magnus flinched. Was that how it had happened? Was that how Gordon had discovered the truth? God, he felt ill.
    Gordon was about to say something when the door opened, and MacRuairi burst into the room. He looked back and forth between them, obviously wondering whatwas going on, but duty overruled curiosity. “Pack your things,” he said to Magnus. “We’re leaving.”
    He didn’t bother with questions; if they were leaving in the middle of the celebration it was serious. Snapping into warrior’s mode, he immediately began to gather his things.
    “What’s happened?” Gordon asked.
    “The new Lord of Galloway is in trouble.”
    Gordon swore, knowing that if the king’s proud brother Edward was sending for reinforcements, it must be bad. “Who’s going?”
    “All of us.”
    Gordon nodded. “I’ll get my things.”
    “Not you,” MacRuairi clarified. “No one expects you to leave your bride on her wedding night.”
    “I know,” Gordon said. “But I’m coming all the same. You may need a distraction.” He exchanged a look