Page 71 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
Iseabail stood at Elsie’s left, the women holding onto each other, while Alisdair stood to Elsie’s right. If he was in any way worried about what was going to happen, he didn’t show it. He stood tall with confidence, his face expressionless.
When the mediator, one of the council members, dropped a rag to the ground, the two men commenced. At first, their steps were cautious, clearly trying to weigh the other up. Her father might well be twenty years older than Keane, but he was still a prolific warrior.
There were a few tentative strikes, the clanging metal of their swords echoing around the gathered crowd. But soon enough, they fell into a flow, one striking while the other defended, until the roles were changed. Back and forth they went, grunting and panting with the effort.
A few times, Iseabail and Elsie gasped, squeezing each other’s arms in terror, for it looked like Laird Munro might have the upper hand. He caught Keane on the upper arm, and the lower leg. But Keane came back strong. The men battled for some time, both of them now looking tired. The blows came slower, as did their advances. Her father stepped forward and missed his footing, causing him to stumble. The crowd gasped as he fell forward onto the ground. Keane used the opportunity to move swiftly. A second later, he towered above him with his sword at Laird Munro’s throat.
“Yield, or I swear, I will strike ye down here in front o’ yer only daughter,” Keane spat.
Immediately, her father dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender. “I yield,” he panted.
“Och, thank god,” Iseabail cried.
Elsie would like to have said the same, but she was too relieved to speak. That did not stop the crowd about her, however, as a great roar and applause came from all who had gathered behind her.
Even as much as Keane detested the man, Elsie was surprised when he offered the laird his hand to assist him to his feet. When the celebration had calmed down, the men faced each other.
“And now, ye will honor yer agreement,” Keane said. “Ye will leave and nae come back unless Elsie wants tae see ye. And mak’ certain Laird Gunn never darkens these glens.”
Laird Munro was angry and frustrated that he had been outdone, but nodded curtly. “Fine. Have it yer way. I ask only one thing o’ ye.”
“What?” Keane snarled.
A strange expression crossed her father’s face. “Me men and I have travelled far. I ask that we are allowed tae rest here fer a little while, afore we mak’ our return journey.”
Keane glanced over at Elsie; his eyebrows raised questioningly. She could hardly believe he wanted her to make the decision, but quickly, she nodded.
“Fine,” Keane replied. “Ye and yer men can stay fer a short while, and then, ye can be on yer way.”
Laird Munro nodded, and then walked over to his men. Keane turned towards Elsie who was already making her way over to him. He dropped his sword at the exact same time she threw her arms around him.
“Och, God. I dinnae think I have ever been so terrified,” she breathed into his chest.
“I told ye, little one. I’m wasnae going tae lose ye.”
A second later, Iseabail, Owen and Alisdair joined them.
“He wasnae an easy opponent, even with his age,” Owen said.
“Indeed, he wasnae,” Keane nodded. “But it is over now. Finally, we will be rid o’ him.”
“Ye should get those injuries looked at,” Alisdair said, nodding to the cuts he had sustained.
Keane shrugged. “Och, they’re just scratches.”
“Ye’ll dae as ye’re damned well told,” Iseabail piped up forcefully. “Come on. Let’s get ye inside and tend tae them.”
Just as the group was about to head to the castle, Laird Munro approached Elsie. While the others halted, he took her to the side.
“I’m disappointed in ye, child. I can hardly believe ye took the side o’ this man over yer own faither. ‘Tis clear tae me now that I nae longer have a daughter anymore.”
Perhaps, had he said those words to her before now, Elsie might have been pained, even devastated. But after all that had occurred, she now had an understanding of what it felt like to be adored and protected. It was that fact that made her realize that her father had never truly loved her. Somewhere deep inside of her, she felt bolstered by the love she felt for Keane, and, finding the courage to tell her father how she really felt, she glared at him.
“Then naething is any different, is it?” she retorted. “I was never good enough fer ye. In fact, I have never had a faither. Now, more so than ever. When ye leave here, I willnae grieve ye’re going, fer ye have never given me any reason tae grieve ye.”
The laird’s mouth fell open, but Elsie did not wait for his reply. Instead, she spun on her heels and rejoined the others. Her heart skipped a beat when she noted Keane’s proud smile. Wrapping his arms around her shoulder, he gazed down at her.
“Good fer ye, little one. Good fer ye.”
