Page 40 of Wedded to the Twisted Highlander
“Ye’re lyin’. Think I just started trainin’ ye, lad? I’ve been at yer side since ye were knee-high to a grasshopper. Now, try again. What’s got ye bothered?”
“Nothing,” Thomas insisted as he drew an arrow from his quiver and tried again.
He knew if he missed the shot, there’d be hell to pay. Duncan wasn’t one to let things go so easily.
“Aye, ye say that, but a good laird may have a few distractions here and there. He might even fold his hands and rest a few days here and there. But what happens to him?” Duncan asked as Thomas remained focused on the target at the end of the green pitch.
“He dies,” Thomas answered as he loosed the arrow.
Holding his breath, he waited for his arrow to strike its target. Instead of hearing the familiar whack of the arrow ramming into the barrel of hay, he was greeted with silence. His arrow had soared above the target and landed close to the tree line.
“Aye, and so will ye apparently,” Duncan said, his voice laced with disappointment. “I dinnae think ye’ve ever shot this poorly.”
“Is that supposed to encourage me to do better?” Thomas grunted.
“Well, yer poor aim is certainly doin’ nothing to motivate ye,” Duncan shot back.
If there was one thing Thomas admired about Duncan, it was his ability to cut straight to the heart of the matter.
“I dinnae need ye beratin’ me.”
“Well, someone should. Look at ye. It’s been what? Two months since the Lady came to the castle? She was caught stealin’, mind ye. And yet here she is, no longer a thief but the lady of the castle, wit’ the whole clan to protect her.”
Thomas shot his man-at-arms a warning look. How had Duncan discovered his ruse with Astrid?
“Choose yer next words carefully,” he warned, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dirk.
“Ye mistake me, Me Laird,” Duncan said, his voice softening. “I never said that her distractin’ ye was a bad thing. That is something that can be easily remedied.”
“Ye’re sayin’ that because I’ve nae bedded me wife—as it is me duty as Laird and husband—she’s got me distracted?” Thomas asked, picking his words carefully and deliberately.
After all, Duncan had trained him to be the warrior he was. The last thing he wanted was to show just how much Astrid affected him.
“Well, see now, ye havenae lost all yer wits,” Duncan drawled.
“If ye hadnae already noticed, the lady isnae very receptive to such gestures,” Thomas shot back, dropping his voice to a low whisper.
“Now there’s a riddle for ye,” Duncan said as he folded his arms across his chest and flashed him a knowing smirk.
“I’m nae in the mood for one of yer lessons. If ye have an answer for me, then just say it outright,” Thomas grumbled as he reached for another arrow.
“Perhaps nae. Instead, what ye’ll get is rumors,” Duncan cautioned. “And ye can already hear what will be said. The Laird cannae produce an heir, the council will decide that Astrid must be disposed of, and then where will ye be?”
Thomas clenched his hands into tight fists. The future Duncan painted was not the same one that he had imagined. In fact, it was the complete opposite.
“Well, if what ye say comes to pass, then I will die defendin’ me wife.”
“So, ye’d chose yer heart over yer duty to yer clan?” Duncan challenged as Thomas prepared to loose another arrow.
He narrowed his focus, not on the target at the end of the field but on Astrid’s face. She smiled at him as she batted her long lashes. The arrow sprang from his bow and flew across the field with perfect accuracy.
“Ha, there, see? Just needed to redirect yer attention,” Duncan said, taking credit for the first shot Thomas landed all morning.
“I need to have a chat wit’ Astrid,” Thomas muttered as his thoughts merged until they were a single point focused on Astrid.
“Aye,” Duncan agreed with a smirk. “And if I were ye, I’d do it before the council convenes later today. Ye dinnae want them thinkin’ that ye cannae produce an heir or that yer marriage to Astrid is a ruse. Because if they find out, they will annul it, and she’ll go to prison while ye hang.”
“Ye dinnae have to tell me what is at stake here. I understand completely,” Thomas answered as he rolled his eyes at Reid. Where his brother got his imagination, Thomas didn’t know. Everyday his brother managed to survive astonished him. “But I doubt the council will go so far as to kill me. I think yer imagination might be runnin’ off wit’ ye a bit, daenae ye think? Although I do think it’ll be entertainin’ to see them try.”
