Page 17 of Beguiled By the Highlander
It took a moment for him to understand her meaning. “Lady Isolde, are ye offering yerself as my opponent?”
“Why not? I won’t go easy on ye, if that’s what ye’re afraid of.”
She was laughing at him. He was still too taken aback by her offer to fully appreciate the way her beautiful eyes sparkled in mirth at him.
“I’d never raise a blade against a woman.”
“Ah.” She waved her hand at him in mock disgust. “’Tis simply a training session, nothing more. We’ll use wooden swords, so I don’t injure ye too terribly.”
He wasn’t in the least concerned that she might injure him, terribly or otherwise. “’Tis still a weapon. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt ye.”
She laughed and turned to Roisin. “Hear that? Njord has a high opinion of his swordsmanship.”
“Then ye are equally matched,” her sister said in her soft voice, but mischief lurked in her eyes, and he laughed when Isolde gasped in mock outrage.
“My honor has been slighted,” she said, returning her gaze to him. “Twice over. What will ye do about it?”
“I won’t fight ye.”
“Why not?”
Was she serious? He’d already told her why not. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”
Her laughter vanished. “Ye object to a woman learning how to defend herself and her castle?”
What? He hadn’t said that at all. “Ye’re putting words in my mouth. I’m not attacking ye or yer castle.” He recalled the training session he’d witnessed the day he’d arrived at Sgur. “And before ye ask, I think ye’d defend both admirably.”
“Aye, but only because Ipractice.”
He saw the trap she was setting but with a sense of inevitability, seemed unable to avoid it. “With Patric.”
“Not every warrior fights the same. I need variety. Are ye denying me the opportunity to improve my skills?”
“Will ye never let this go unless I pick up a sword against ye?”
“It would show appropriate gratitude for me having saved yer life, don’t ye think?”
He shook his head, fairly flummoxed by her. “Ye save my life and want me to attack ye for it. I’m certain I’ve never met a woman like ye, my lady.”
“I shall take that as a compliment, even if ye didn’t mean it as such.”
“It was a compliment,” he admitted. “How could it be otherwise?”
Her smile damn near took his breath away. She looked soft and sweet, as though there wasn’t a fierce thought in her head, nor sharp word on her tongue. But he knew different, and thankGod for that. A meek and biddable lass would never fire his blood the way Isolde of Sgur Castle did.
“Then we must choose our weapons. The challenge will be set at sunrise.”
He could scarcely believe he’d agreed to this madness.
“Wooden swords,” he reminded her. At least then the worst he could inflict upon her was bruises, rather than an unwary cut from a blade.
“Indeed. I shouldn’t wish to scar yer handsome face, now would I?”
“Don’t think to put me off my stride with pretty words, my lady.”
She laughed, before dropping a kiss on Roisin’s cheek. “Best not to let Amma know of my challenge,” she said to her sister, who shook her head in what appeared to be resigned agreement. As though she were well used to Isolde’s unlikely escapades. Isolde straightened and looked him in the eye. “Come. I’ll take ye to the armory.”
The armory was situated next to the farrier’s, and when Isolde unlocked the door and showed him inside, he inhaled an appreciative breath at the impressive display of weapons. Sgur Castle was well fortified, and that was a fact.
