Page 12 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
He was cornered, unarmed, and vulnerable, and as Callum crowded him, he fell to his knees, hands held high against the next blow.
Callum looked down on him, breathing heavily. Alexander might be beaten, but he showed no fear.
“If ye kill me, I understand,” Alexander said softly. “But I want ye to ken I’ll never betray ye. Not for the rest of me life.”
Alexander’s throat bobbed as Callum placed the sword beneath the other man’s chin.
They had an audience now, the other guards about the keep were looking down on them from the battlements, servants pausing in their tasks, staring in disbelief.
“Ye swear it?” Callum muttered.
“With me life.”
Callum raised his sword, and Alexander’s eyes finally filled with fear as he sliced down toward him. The blade cut a long slice across the other man’s chest, enough to scar but not to kill him.
Alexander crumpled forward, a hand coming up to press his léine into his chest, where blood blossomed out beneath his palm.
“A scar for a scar, then.”
Callum threw the sword aside, offering his hand, and after a moment to recover himself, Alexander took it, wincing as he was pulled to his feet.
“M’Laird,” he huffed, his breaths sharp as he dealt with the pain.
“Go and clean yerself up and we’ll call things even.”
Alexander bowed awkwardly and walked back through the arch and toward the castle entrance.
“Alexander,” Callum called, following behind as the man-at-arms turned.
“Yes, M’Laird.”
“Are ye still seein’ that seamstress in the village?”
Alexander’s gaze softened a little. “Aye. We are married now.”
“What was her name?”
“Kristen.”
“Ask Kristen to come and see me. I cannae have a bride freezin’ to death, and those English dresses willnae be any good here.”
Alexander’s hand clenched on his shirt. “Ye have a bride then, M’Laird?”
“She will arrive next week. Prepare the castle and send a carriage for her.”
“Aye, M’Laird.”
Alexander left hastily, the blood already dripping over his breeches.
“What are ye all gawkin’ at?” Callum cried to the servants who were still staring. “Be about yer business.”
There was a flurry of movement, and the courtyard returned to the familiar sounds of people at work.
Callum wiped his sweaty palms across his jacket and headed back inside, not looking forward to the bundles of papers he would have to sift through to understand the status of his new clan.
As he walked through the entrance, he heard a loud crash, a childish squeal, and something heavy falling to the floor. He ran through the gates and up the stairs two at a time, flinging open the door to the girls’ room in a panic.
Two dark heads turned to him as he did so, Amy gasping and leaping behind her bed to hide from him. Eilis stood her ground, her hands on her hips, glaring at her uncle.
