Page 44 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

Alaric could hardly believe that Lucia would do such a thing, but then again, he figured nothing about her should surprise him. He chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide his shock and surprise and, most importantly, the fact that anything had happened atall, but he knew that no matter how nonchalant he tried to look, there was no way he would get away with it.

“Are ye alright?” Kayla asked, rightfully sounding concerned. “What happened?”

“Och aye,” said Alaric with a nod, humming softly. “It’s naethin’… just an old injury. It always aches in a storm.”

Alaric glanced outside the window at the same time as Kayla to see that even though it was a cold day, it also happened to be one of those rare sunny days. When he met Kayla’s gaze again, he gave a small shrug, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head.

“There must be a storm approachin’,” he said. “Dress well fer it.”

Time seemed to stretch between them into something unbearable as Kayla remained silent and simply blinked at him in confusion. In the end, she shook herself and smiled, heading back to the door.

“I will,” she said. “Thank ye, Alaric. I will see ye at the great hall.”

With that, she was gone, closing the door behind her, and only moments later, Lucia crawled out from under the bed, red-faced and furious. The first thing she did the moment she was upright was to kick Alaric in the shin, hard enough for him to cry out and almost topple over.

“Why did ye kick me?” he shouted, a hand reaching down to rub at his sore shin. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

“Dress well fer it,” Lucia said in a mocking tone that Alaric hoped sounded nothing like him. “What is the matter with ye?”

“What did I dae?” Alaric demanded, not knowing what it could be that had now set Lucia off.

“Dress well fer it?Dress well fer it!” Lucia repeated again and again, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Dae ye have any other sage advice fer Miss Sinclair? Perhaps ye would like tae give her yer cloak?”

Alaric, naturally, knew this for what it was; jealousy. Anyone with a pair of eyes would recognize this behavior, but what was strange for him was that it was coming from Lucia. She had never struck him as the type of woman who would be jealous and territorial like this. If anything, he had thought that her usual confidence and bravado would extend to this, and that she would be completely unbothered by Kayla’s attempts at courting, especially after Alaric had reassured her she was the only one he could love.

He couldn’t help but laugh, but that only served to infuriate Lucia even more. Balling up her fists, she slammed one of them right in Alaric’s chest, and had it been any other woman, he was certain it would have been nothing but a simply nuisance. As it were, though, with Lucia as strong as she was, she easily managed to punch the air out of his lungs, turning his laugh into a cough.

“Lucia!” he said as he struggled to bring air into his lungs. He grabbed her wrists before she could punch him again, holding them both gently in his grip. “Stop! Stop… come, lass. Dinnae be jealous. I told ye that ye’re the only one I love, did I nae?”

“So?” Lucia demanded, fiery as ever. “What does it matter if ye love me when ye are still betrothed tae another?”

Alaric supposed that was a fair question. If he wanted Lucia to believe him, then he couldn’t simply claim to love her. He had to act in a way that showed it.

“I’ll speak tae Evan,” he promised, bringing one of her hands to his lips to press a kiss on her knuckles. “Today. I’ll tell him I cannae wed her.”

Only then did Lucia go lax in his grip, her muscles relaxing as she looked up at Alaric, wide-eyed and eager.

“Ye will?”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

And so he would. He only hoped Evan would listen.

Alaric’s promise lingered in Lucia’s mind as they all broke their fast together. It was only when Bonnie mentioned her desire to train after breakfast that Lucia was distracted, evenmomentarily, from that thought, and suggested that they could spar together. It would be good, she thought. It would take her mind off things and maybe give her a moment of peace. She was always at peace when she fought. There was nothing else on her mind but her opponent and the fight itself.

Much to her surprise and delight, Bonnie was happy to agree, and that was how the two of them ended up in the training grounds, each holding a dull sword in their hands. Around them, Alaric, Evan, Isabeau, and Kayla sat and watched. To Lucia, Alaric looked a little too excited.

What did he know, she wondered, that she didn’t?

Lucia supposed she would find out soon enough.

She and Bonnie wore shorter tunics now, and Lucia was much more comfortable in her own skin in those tattered clothes and with a sword in her hand, even if it was a dull one. That was her territory, something she knew well, something she could easily understand.

For a while, they both circled each other and Lucia had the chance to observe the way Bonnie moved. Her movements were all fluid, practiced, and certain, as though she had grown up in those training grounds much like her husband and her brother-in-law. It startled Lucia. She didn’t think noble-born women ever received such training. She had always thought it was only women like her who knew how to fight—women who had always had to fight for their survival.

Lucia was the first one to deliver an attack. It was half-hearted, with barely any strength behind it, just to gauge Bonnie’s strength and reactions. If nothing else, she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t hurt her. She feared a woman like Bonnie was not used to force, even if she knew how to move in a fight, and Lucia was a guest in her home. Such a blunder could only lead to bad things.

Bonnie easily parried her blow, though; so easily that Lucia’s suspicions grew. Her next attack packed more force, the one after that even more, until the two of them were trading proper blows, as though they were in a real fight that would determine their survival. Sweat began to drip down Lucia’s forehead, falling into her eyes and blinding her. Soon, the chase rendered all her muscles sore and her breathing became labored, but she didn’t care about any of it. The high of the fight was all-encompassing, erasing everything else.

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