Page 18 of Kilted Hate

And before Magnus had a chance to react, she had bent and lifted the short sword that lay near his feet.

“Or are you simply too afraid to fight a woman?” she mocked, planting her feet into a stance to do battle.

He had to give her some credit. She at least seemed to have her positioning right.

Ye might as well get this over with. She’s only going tae humiliate hersel’, and clearly, nae dissuading is going tae stop her.

Rolling his eyes, Domhnall heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

Dropping his long sword into the snow, he matched her sword with his own short one. He watched as his men stepped back to give them some room, all with smiles on their faces. No doubt they had the same thought he did. His future wife was a mad woman. But if she wanted to prove herself, perhaps a little light entertainment for them all would be no bad thing.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, he lifted his sword. “Ready?”

With her eyes full of determination, Lady de Beaumont nodded abruptly.

“Good.”

Of course, he had no intention of fighting her for real. She was less than half his size, and besides, this was clearly a show of what he now knew, was part of her stubborn character. Something she had showcased more than any other part of her personality in the last twenty-four hours.

The duel started off tentatively, his future wife watching him carefully, waiting for his strike, and readying herself to defend against it. But as they began to get into a flow, Domhnallcouldn’t help notice that she was, indeed, skilled with the sword. No match for him, of course, but she was certainly no novice.

While he tried to keep the fight light and non-threatening, Lady de Beaumont tried to push him with her heavier strikes. When Domhnall did not respond, she mocked him.

“What’s the matter, me laird? Are you scared of hurting me?”

“Are ye nae afraid o’ being injured?” Domhnall countered, pushing a little harder to see how she would fare.

“I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Domhnall smiled. “Well, ye should be.”

He out maneuvered her a few times, but still, she held her own, which, he could not deny, impressed him. He also noticed that the men watching on were no longer smiling in light mockery, but seemingly as impressed with her skills as he was.

“That’s the problem with you Scots,” Lady de Beaumont retorted. “You think because you are the descendants of Vikings, that you’re unbeatable. But the English have taught you a lesson or two about losing, have they not?”

Unbeknownst to her, Lady de Beaumont’s words cut him to the bone. Both of his parents would still be alive if it were not for the English. His mother and father were slaughtered viciously,and even though years had passed, Domhnall still struggled to reconcile his guilt for not being able to save them.

He felt his anger rising at her words, and struggling to hold back, his next strike was given with far more force.

“Domhnall,” Magnus said, a warning tone in his voice.

“Oh, have I hit a nerve?” Lady de Beaumont smirked. “Have I finally found the warrior? What’s the matter? Have the English proven themselves to be worthy of your skills?”

She was going too far, and the rage bubbled up within him.

“Domhnall,” Magnus barked, but Domhnall ignored him and lunged at her again.

She side-stepped, and struck him with a novel move, but he could feel himself losing control, and as his anger took him over, he moved swiftly, strike after strike, pushing her further and further back.

“Domhnall,” Magnus yelled.

But it was too late. With a skilled maneuver, he swiftly disarmed her and as she stumbled backwards, Lady de Beaumont toppled back and fell into the stream that ran through the castle grounds.

“Ah!” she gasped, the freezing cold water clearly taking her breath away.

For a second, Domhnall could only stand there dumbfounded at what he had done. Spinning to look behind him, he saw the glowering eyes of his brother, who had tried to put a stop to it. Magnus, with his arms folded across his chest, only shook his head, his face loaded with annoyed disappointment.

Domhnall then turned back and reached for Lady de Beaumont, but she swiped his hand away.

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