he could before returning to the Laird’s bedchamber. He’d festered in his chamber until he saw men training in the yard. The day was ripe for training. The sun was high, the wind was a mere whisper. Aye, he could do with some sparring.
As he approached, the redheaded giant paced toward him. Others followed suit.
“Do ye mean to train with us?” he asked with a chuckle and glanced at the men around him.
“Aye.”
The man blocked his way.
Aidan glared at him. “Are you afraid I may retaliate for the injury my betrothed sustained.”
Some of the men chuckled, shuffled to get a look at the giant’s face.
The man tipped his head back and laughed. “Och, a man as small as you?” He leaned closer so Aidan could see each pore on his face. “Never.”
Aidan took a step back and slipped his sword from its sheath. “Never?”
Bets were placed and two sides were drawn.
“Duncan will squash the man.”
“Nay, he’s gone soft.”
Aidan smiled and pointed his sword at the lad who just spoken. “Well, Duncan. Would you like to prove him wrong?”
Duncan pushed the lad to the side. “Aye.”
The crowd moved back, gave room for them to spar.
“Are ye ready, MacKerry?”
He grinned. “Aye.”
Duncan bellowed, then charged. Aidan tsked and merely stepped out of the way. Duncan ran past him, turned and growled.
“Och, he showed ye!”
“Yer like a rutting bull, Duncan,” a lad name Logan yelled.
The crowd laughed and Duncan glared at them. “ Wheesht yer hood .”
Damn if the man didn’t charge him once again. Aidan feinted to the side and jutted his foot. The giant tripped, but quickly righted himself.
He pointed his sword at Aidan. “Yer a cheat.”
“Nay, Duncan,” Logan said. “’Twas fair.”
Duncan barreled toward the young lad. He gripped him from his shirt and lifted him up.
Bloody hell. Aidan strode to the man. “Let him go. Your fight is with me.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “M’laird would have me head if I hurt ye.” He released the lad and he crumpled to the ground. Other clansmen helped him to his feet.
“Och, Duncan,” the lad sputtered.
Duncan ruffled the Logan’s hair. “You’ll live.”
Then the man surprised him and rested his arm over Aidan’s shoulder. “How about a wee dram to quench our thirst.”
’Twas the last thing he expected to hear from the man. A man he’d wanted to throttle for hurting Hope. Mayhap their differences could be settled later-in the training ring.
“Aye.”
The man tipped back his head and laughed. “’Tis a grand answer, MacKerry. Ye may not be so bad.”
He’d let the man think such for now, but he’d quickly ken how adept Aidan was with a sword.
No matter how he tried, from sparring in the practice ring to downing too many drams of whiskey, his train of thought went back to Hope and the injury she’s sustained. After finishing drinking with Duncan and the other men, he left their company, deciding enough time had passed.
He silently opened the door and peeked in. Nora stood over Hope clucking her tongue.
“Enter, MacKerry before you wake the lass.”
Chastised, Aidan entered. He watched as Nora gently bathed Hope’s shoulder.
“Fever’s setting in,” she said grimly.
Bollocks . ’Twas always the fear with injuries and the cut had been deep. “Go,” he said to Nora. “I’ll watch her.” Why he volunteered for such a task was beyond him. But her vulnerability as she lay there pale and injured drew him. Mayhap, just mayhap she wasn’t the harridan he thought.
The auld maid peered at him with a mix of distrust and gratitude in her rheumy gaze. “Aye, I’m needed in the kitchen. Lady Honor will bring another tisane in a wee bit.”
The woman drooped with fatigue. “Rest is what you are needing. Can’t someone else oversee the kitchen?”
She chuckled and quickly glanced at Hope as she stirred. “The women of the keep want me to lead in the kitchen. Our laird expects much and lets her ire show
As he approached, the redheaded giant paced toward him. Others followed suit.
“Do ye mean to train with us?” he asked with a chuckle and glanced at the men around him.
“Aye.”
The man blocked his way.
Aidan glared at him. “Are you afraid I may retaliate for the injury my betrothed sustained.”
Some of the men chuckled, shuffled to get a look at the giant’s face.
The man tipped his head back and laughed. “Och, a man as small as you?” He leaned closer so Aidan could see each pore on his face. “Never.”
Aidan took a step back and slipped his sword from its sheath. “Never?”
Bets were placed and two sides were drawn.
“Duncan will squash the man.”
“Nay, he’s gone soft.”
Aidan smiled and pointed his sword at the lad who just spoken. “Well, Duncan. Would you like to prove him wrong?”
Duncan pushed the lad to the side. “Aye.”
The crowd moved back, gave room for them to spar.
“Are ye ready, MacKerry?”
He grinned. “Aye.”
Duncan bellowed, then charged. Aidan tsked and merely stepped out of the way. Duncan ran past him, turned and growled.
“Och, he showed ye!”
“Yer like a rutting bull, Duncan,” a lad name Logan yelled.
The crowd laughed and Duncan glared at them. “ Wheesht yer hood .”
Damn if the man didn’t charge him once again. Aidan feinted to the side and jutted his foot. The giant tripped, but quickly righted himself.
He pointed his sword at Aidan. “Yer a cheat.”
“Nay, Duncan,” Logan said. “’Twas fair.”
Duncan barreled toward the young lad. He gripped him from his shirt and lifted him up.
Bloody hell. Aidan strode to the man. “Let him go. Your fight is with me.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “M’laird would have me head if I hurt ye.” He released the lad and he crumpled to the ground. Other clansmen helped him to his feet.
“Och, Duncan,” the lad sputtered.
Duncan ruffled the Logan’s hair. “You’ll live.”
Then the man surprised him and rested his arm over Aidan’s shoulder. “How about a wee dram to quench our thirst.”
’Twas the last thing he expected to hear from the man. A man he’d wanted to throttle for hurting Hope. Mayhap their differences could be settled later-in the training ring.
“Aye.”
The man tipped back his head and laughed. “’Tis a grand answer, MacKerry. Ye may not be so bad.”
He’d let the man think such for now, but he’d quickly ken how adept Aidan was with a sword.
No matter how he tried, from sparring in the practice ring to downing too many drams of whiskey, his train of thought went back to Hope and the injury she’s sustained. After finishing drinking with Duncan and the other men, he left their company, deciding enough time had passed.
He silently opened the door and peeked in. Nora stood over Hope clucking her tongue.
“Enter, MacKerry before you wake the lass.”
Chastised, Aidan entered. He watched as Nora gently bathed Hope’s shoulder.
“Fever’s setting in,” she said grimly.
Bollocks . ’Twas always the fear with injuries and the cut had been deep. “Go,” he said to Nora. “I’ll watch her.” Why he volunteered for such a task was beyond him. But her vulnerability as she lay there pale and injured drew him. Mayhap, just mayhap she wasn’t the harridan he thought.
The auld maid peered at him with a mix of distrust and gratitude in her rheumy gaze. “Aye, I’m needed in the kitchen. Lady Honor will bring another tisane in a wee bit.”
The woman drooped with fatigue. “Rest is what you are needing. Can’t someone else oversee the kitchen?”
She chuckled and quickly glanced at Hope as she stirred. “The women of the keep want me to lead in the kitchen. Our laird expects much and lets her ire show
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