In Bed with a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 1)

“ ’Tis the way of things,” Crispen boasted. “Men fight. Women tend the hearth.”

Gretchen punched Crispen in the arm and gave him a fierce glare. Robbie in turn shoved Gretchen.

Mairin frowned and stared down at him. “Your father told you that, no doubt.”

“Uncle Caelen did.”

She rolled her eyes. Why didn’t that surprise her?

“But why are they fighting?” she persisted.

“ ’Tis a wager, my lady!”

Mairin turned to see Maddie heading up the hill, several of the McCabe women on her heels. They carried a basket between them.

“What wager?” she asked, as the women approached.

Maddie plunked the basket down and the rich smell of bread wafted through the air. Despite the splendid meal in which she had partaken, Mairin put a hand to her rumbling stomach.

The children leaned forward eagerly, their expressions hopeful as they circled Maddie.

“Our laird and Laird McDonald have a wager as to whose men can best the other,” Maddie said, as she began passing out bread to the women now sitting on the ground. Then she passed a hunk to each of the children. She motioned to Mairin. “Join us, my lady. We thought to have a picnic and cheer the McCabe warriors on.”

Mairin settled onto the ground, spreading her skirts about her legs. Crispen plopped down next to her and began devouring his treat. Mairin took a piece of the bread and tore a piece off. As she placed the bit to her lips, she frowned. “What’s the wager?”

Maddie smiled. “Our laird is cunning! He wagered three months’ stock of food. If the McCabes win, we’ll collect meat and spices from the McDonald stores.”

Mairin’s mouth gaped open. “But we don’t have three months’ stock of food!”

Bertha nodded sagely. “Exactly. He wagered the thing we need the most. ’Twas brilliant and well thought out of him.”

“But what if we lose? We can’t possibly afford to part with such riches. We don’t even have it to lose.”

One of the older women tsked under her breath. “Our warriors won’t lose. ’Tis disloyal to think they would.”

Mairin scowled. “I’m not being disloyal. I just thought it was odd the laird would wager what we don’t have.”

“Since we won’t lose, it really isn’t an issue,” Maddie said, patting Mairin’s arm.

“Oh, look, Gannon’s won his bout and now ’tis Cormac’s turn!” Christina exclaimed. “He’s ever so handsome, isn’t he?”

The women around Christina smiled indulgently. Maddie leaned forward and whispered conspiratori>The “Our Christina has eyes for Cormac.”

Mairin observed the way Christina’s cheeks went pink as soon as Cormac strode into the circle. His shirt was off and the muscles bulged and rippled in his arms. He did make a fine sight. Not as fine a sight as Ewan, but still not bad at all.

Christina gasped when Cormac took a particularly hard blow and fell back. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared as the warrior picked himself up and lunged forward again. The sounds of clanging metal pierced the air as Cormac fought with renewed vengeance.

It was over seconds later, when Cormac’s opponent’s sword went flying through the air. Cormac raised his sword over his head and then slashed downward until the point rested under the other man’s chin.

The man held up his hands in surrender and Cormac extended a hand to help him to his feet.

“Our men are making short work of the McDonald warriors,” Bertha said smugly.

Indeed the McCabe soldiers quickly dispatched the next two. The match was over, given that four of the McDonald warriors had already fallen, but the fifth stalked into the ring fully adorned with protective armor and helmet.

“He’s a small one!” Maddie exclaimed. “Why, he can’t be more than a lad.”

Evidently, Diormid, who’d been chosen to go last, agreed, because he stood to the side, a perplexed look on his face. When the smaller warrior raised his sword, Diormid shook his head and strode forward.

Though he was a great deal smaller than Diormid, he proved to be extremely nimble and agile. He deftly avoided blows that would likely have knocked him from his feet.

The McDonald warriors, inspired by the best performance thus far, surged forward, shouting encouragement to the lad. He was quick to parry and he had Diormid fighting to remain on his feet.

Mairin found herself holding her breath, impressed by the smaller man’s courage. She leaned forward as Diormid dodged a barrage of thrusts and she held her breath when the lad jumped to avoid Diormid’s sweeping kick.

“ ’Tis so exciting,” Gretchen whispered beside her.

Mairin smiled at the little girl who was so enraptured by the spectacle in front of them.

“Aye, it is. It looks like Diormid has his hands full with the lad.”

The fight wore on and it was apparent that Diormid was frustrated by his inability to make the much smaller man yield. Diormid’s movements became more desperate and wild. It was clear he wanted to end the fight and just as clear the lad was having none of it.

Then an amazing thing happened. Diormid lunged and the lad’s leg shot out, tripping Diormid. In an instant, the lad leaped on top of Diormid with a yell worthy of the most seasoned warrior. Sword held high, he slashed downward until the point rested against the vulnerable flesh of Diormid’s neck.

Diormid glared up at the youth but finally dropped his sword in concession.

“The lad has bested our Diormid,” Maddie whispered.

Slowly the lad rose and extended his hand down to Diormid. He pulled himself up, nearly knocking the lad off his feet as he struggled with the weight of the much larger warrior.