Page 38 of The Winter Laird

Still ogling Nioclas, Bri had to agree.

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“The women are under the benches,”Aidan said quietly as he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for Nioclas to finish his drink. Admiring his sword, he added, “Been there for about ten minutes or so. I give them another twenty before they get cold and head back into the castle.”

Nioclas sighed. “I’m unsurprised. Does Erin still think no one knows about her forays into the lists?”

Aidan shrugged and quickly crossed swords with his brother. “Of course. I’m certainly not going to tell her. She’ll skewer me on the end of her sewing needle whilst I sleep.”

“Are you that afraid of a wee lass?” Nioclas mocked, jumping back and just avoiding the tip of Aidan’s blade. He grinned. “I don’t think Donovan has much trouble with her.”

“Oh, I’m sure Donovan has complete control over his wife,” Aidan replied, and they both grinned as they hacked away at each other. “I don’t think he’s ever been privy to the full extent of Erin’s talents, though.”

Nioclas ducked and rolled out of Aidan’s path, springing back up and crossing blades once more. “I—oof—doubt he would’ve agreed to marry her, had he known.”

“Marriage. I don’t envy you, brother. Shackled for life. I hope she is worth it.” Aidan narrowly avoided the flat of Nioclas’s blade, then spun to avoid it again. “Saints, Nick, I was only jest—oof—is there something you care to talk about?” he asked sardonically as Nioclas’s attack intensified.

“Nay,” Nioclas replied curtly, swinging his arm relentlessly.

“Hmm. There’s a tale there.” Aidan plunged his sword toward his brother, who leapt backward.

“None I care to tell you,” Nioclas replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Well, you’re putting on quite a show for her.” They circled each other. “Mayhap this will be a love match yet—” Aidan’s sword went flying. He watched, open-mouthed, as it soared through the air. Someone called out, and men scattered as the blade went hilt-over-tip, landing about twenty feet from where they stood.

He looked at his brother in alarm. Nioclas had never bested him by forcing his sword from his hand. That was something they’d agreed long ago was unnecessary between them. War was never far, and neither wanted the other without his sword if it broke.

“Love is for fools,” Nioclas growled before stalking off.

It was a rare thing for Nioclas to lose his temper, especially in the lists. Bemused, Aidan watched him go, then threw a wink over to the source of his brother’s obvious discomfort.

Smirking at the feminine gasps, Aidan collected his sword and sauntered off.

Chapter 11

“Is it so bad, then?”

Nioclas rubbed his temples as Aidan entered, unbidden, into his solar. “Truly, brother, you’ve no wish to know.”

Aidan furrowed a brow. “Contrary. I verymuchwish to know. You’ve never thrown my sword, nor walked off a field before training was done for the day. That’s the third time this week. I vow my lips are sealed with whatever you choose to tell me.”

Nioclas swallowed his ale and sighed, rubbing his hand over his jaw.

“Is it so bad, then?” Aidan repeated.

“Aye.” Nioclas stood from his seat and paced the solar, then slammed his fists on the table. Aidan didn’t flinch. “I made a bargain with her.”

“What kind?”

“A fool’s kind. If she married me, thus relieving me of having to marry the Kildare lass, I’d ensure she got back to her home in three months.”

“Nick!” Aidan exclaimed. “O’Rourke will have your head spiked on his gates! Sending a wife back to her clan rescinds clan alliance. You’re asking for battle!”

“Nay.” Nioclas shook his head. “Nay, I mean her real home. She isn’t from Ireland. I believe her to be from France.”

“She’s not an O’Rourke?”

“She is. She looks just like Kathryne did when she was younger. But she lived somewhere else, with O’Malley, for the whole of her life. Her accent is…odd.”

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