Page 25 of Bound to a Highland Beast
Tiernan glanced at his hands, grimacing as though whatever thought he was having was physically painful for him. Isabeau followed his gaze and saw the rings on his fingers; two of them, neither opulent, but hopefully enough to pay for the swords.
Isabeau couldn’t claim to know how much a sword even cost.
“Damnation!” Tiernan grumbled, his fist slamming against the table.
“Will ye stop scarin’ the people?” Isabeau hissed, eyes narrowing at Tiernan. “We’re the center o’ attention in this village as it is. We dinnae need more o’ it.”
“Curse Beag an’ all his line. I like these rings,” Tiernan said petulantly.
“That’s enough,” Isabeau decided as she stood and grabbed Tiernan by the arm. “Let us go. I’ve had enough o’ listenin’ tae ye.”
Tiernan, an immovable object, sat there and gaped at Isabeau, shocked by her sudden outburst. She, too, was shocked when her words sank in.
When did I get so comfortable around him?
It was that thought which unsettled her the most. Somewhere in the past few days, she had gone from fearing him to bossing him around.
The truth was, she no longer did fear him. She was confident Tiernan wouldn’t hurt her.
“Alright, alright!” Tiernan said, standing with a roll of his eyes. “When did ye get so... assertive?”
“When ye became blasphemous,” said Isabeau, to hide that truth.
Luckily, they were able to find a blacksmith in a village nearby who could help them with such a large order. But he was not willing to sell them the amount they had to offer.
“These are sturdy swords,” the blacksmith said, pointing an accusatory finger at the two of them. He was an older, stocky man, with ruddy cheeks and a white moustache that hung over his top lip, giving him the appearance of a kindly grandfather—at least until he opened his mouth and spoke. “If ye think ye can buy all me work with two measly rings, then ye’re sorely mistaken. Ye should go tae Douglas Paterson over inA' Chrìon Làraichif ye’re lookin’ fer cheap work an’ see how long they last ye.”
From the corner of her eye, Isabeau could see Tiernan getting increasingly agitated. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, his other hand curling up into a fist, twitching by his hip for a moment as though he was considering drawing out his knife.
In the end, he didn’t control himself. His fingers curled around the handle and in a motion so swift that Isabeau’s eyes couldn’t even track it, he was pressing the blade against the blacksmith’s neck.
“Perhaps ye wish tae rethink that,” he said, lips curling into a snarl.
The blacksmith didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all, as though he was not only used to that kind of behavior, but was also stubbornly confident that he could get out of the situation alive. With anyone else, Isabeau might have believed it, but with Tiernan as his opponent, she couldn’t help but worry they would both end up either wounded or dead, and neither of those options were appealing to her.
Before the blacksmith could say anything, Isabeau jumped into action, laying her hand over Tiernan’s and trying to pull him away.
“It’s alright,” she said, reaching into her pocket with her free hand to pull out her necklace. She was reluctant to part with it, her hand clutching onto it as if it had a mind of its own, but it was better to lose a beloved belonging than it was to have Tiernan hurt or dead. “Here. Take it. It’s worth a lot. More than these swords probably.”
The blacksmith eyed Isabeau wearily, but then he reached for it, the entire time keeping his head very still as Tiernan refused to move his blade. He examined the gold in the light, then closed his teeth around it, drawing a wince out of Isabeau. Her family’s precious heirloom, now stuck between the teeth of some blacksmith.
“Alright,” the man said eventually, but even so, Tiernan didn’t move until Isabeau pulled on him insistently. “Ye have a deal. Take them an’ leave, I willnae be as nice if I ever see ye here again.”
“Listen here?—”
Isabeau didn’t let Tiernan finish that sentence. “Let us get the swords,” she said. “We have plenty o’ work ahead o’ us.”
For a few moments, the two men were locked into a staring contest, reminding Isabeau of two rams insistent on fighting each other. When she stepped between them, though, the spellwas broken and Tiernan turned around to gather the swords, piling them up in his arms.
It was only when they were out of there, riding away from the town, that Isabeau managed to breathe again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Istill think ye should go back tae the castle,” Tiernan said as the two of them rode down the path towards the woods, looking for the place where Constantine’s hut was supposed to be.
“I’m nae goin’ back,” Isabeau insisted. Tiernan didn’t know why he had expected anything else. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he was dealing with a very stubborn woman and nothing he said made any difference.
She hadn’t even let him deal with the blacksmith himself.
