Page 63 of Laird of Steel
Henry, of course, would have none of it. “Och, sir, I won’t fight a woman.” He shuddered.
“Are you afraid?” Gellir teased.
“Of a lass?” he replied. “O’ course not.”
The Darragh warriors laughed at that, confusing Henry.
“You should be,” Gellir said. “She nearly took off my head. Twice.”
Henry must have realized he stood on dangerous ground. He’d been issued a warning by a celebrated tournament champion. And he was surrounded by Merraid’s allies. His frown of condemnation dissolved into an easy grin.
“Well now, I can see ye’re havin’ a wee bit o’ fun at my expense. Far be it from me to stand in the way of a woman’s… diversions. No matter how curious they seem.” He placed a humble hand over his heart and gave her an apologetic bow.
Gellir and the others chuckled, giving her a nod of reassurance, and dispersed. It had all been in good fun.
Until Henry reached out to coil a fond finger around the end of Merraid’s braid. It was a gesture of affection. But it was also expressed ownership. He murmured for her ears only, “O’ course, once we’re wed, darlin’, ye’ll have my sword to defend ye. There will be no need to carry one o’ your own. No need to engage in such violent sport. Not when there’s more pleasurable sport to be had.” With that, he tugged her forward by her braid and pressed a quick kiss on her mouth.
She should have stopped him the instant he touched her. She would have, if she hadn’t been so stunned by his dismissive words. It wasn’t until he claimed her lips that rage boiled up inside her.
She tore her lips away from him. Raising herdaobetween them, she sliced off the braid he’d grabbed, leaving him holding the severed lock. Then she planted her free hand over his face and gave him a great shove.
He stumbled backward, landing on his arse. He looked like an owl fallen from its perch. His eyes went round. He held her braid aloft, like some small prey in his claws.
The men of Darragh gasped.
Merraid was disgusted and hurt and disappointed all at once. She snatched the braid from his fist and stormed off the field.
Henry didn’t follow.
And now she realized she’d probably never see him again. She’d humiliated him in front of all of Darragh. Henry had wrongly assumed Merraid was his for the taking. Nothing could be further from the truth.
She crossed the courtyard, clutching her braid.
The truth was he’d never be happy with a wife like Merraid.
Such was the curse of being an oddity.
It wasn’t only that she was a woman warrior. She was a maidservant. That made her an anomaly.
The Rivenloch warrior maids at least had their clan name. Their reputation. Their long noble history to support them. No one questioned their unique authority. Men expected them to be fierce. Strong. Independent. Powerful.
But Merraid lived in a servant’s world where lasses were obedient and subservient. Where husbands expected their wives to behave and be docile. Where men wielded weapons and women wielded besoms.
She shouldered her way through the door of the great hall. Servants were bustling about everywhere. Stoking the fire. Lighting candles. Transporting bread and linens and chamberpots. When they saw her charging across the hall—herdaoin one hand, her braid in the other—they furrowed their brows in fear.
She realized she didn’t exactly belong in this world either. As long as she was wearing her apron—sweeping out rushes, preparing baths, serving supper—the others considered her their friend. But when she tucked her skirts up for battle and wore a sword on her hip? They avoided her, as if she were some wild and unpredictable creature.
She headed toward the stairs, seeking refuge.
Such things had never troubled her before. Before, she’d never worried about conforming to expectations. She never thought of courtship or marriage. She didn’t care what the men of the clan thought. She performed the duties expected of her as a maidservant. And indulged her love of combat with Lady Feiyan.
Her only dream had been perfecting her swordsmanship. Proving herself in the tournament.
What had happened to that carefree lass? Where had she gone? When had she disappeared?
Since Gellir had arrived, he’d muddied her plans. Her life had been turned upside down.
She entered the shadowy stairwell and dropped her braid on the floor. Her eyes welled with tears as she scowled down at what was left of her lopped-off tresses.
