Page 62 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
Struan turned his head and grinned. “Old or nae, I’m still managin’ tae beat ye pretty good.”
“I’m lettin’ ye win.”
“Oh, is that it?”
“Aye,” he chirped. “Ye didnae think ye were winnin’ on yer own, did ye?”
They shared a laugh as Struan straightened up and stretched his back out. His time in captivity followed by all that time in a saddle on the road had taken a toll on him. It had been anumber of days since he’d had a proper training session and though he felt fatigued, he felt good at the same time. He enjoyed the exercise, the exertion. He even enjoyed the aches, pains, and bruises that came along with a hard sparring session. And of course, he always had a willing partner in Ewan who enjoyed the same things.
Struan raised his wooden sword and tapped it against Ewan’s. They circled each other for a moment before Ewan charged in at him, feinting high, but pulling back to swing low at his legs. Struan anticipated the move and blocked the blow but was too slow to catch the open-handed slap that caught him across the cheek. His face stung, his eyes watered, and his ears began to ring. He staggered back a step and laughed.
“All right, ye got me on that one,” Struan said with a shake of his head.
“Ye’re rusty.”
“Aye. I’m a little slow this mornin’,” he replied. “I’ll give ye that.”
“Let’s get some water and have a rest.”
Struan nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis a good idea.”
They walked to a bench on the far side of the courtyard and took turns taking a drink from the ladle in the bucket of water. Struan scooped up another ladle of water and poured it over his head, letting the cool water slice away the sweat that clung to his face and bare chest. Grabbing a clean rag from the nearby table, he dried himself off as he dropped heavily onto the bench beside Ewan.
“Dae ye think the Council will agree tae send men tae Cluny House?” Ewan asked suddenly.
“Of course, they will,” Struan replied. “’Tis in their best interests tae get Finlay back.”
“They might nae see it that way,” he said. “I saw their eyes when ye mentioned the deal on the table. Some of them think ‘tis the most sensible course of action.”
“’Tis naethin’ but a trap,” Struan said. “This is meant tae draw me out tae give Mackintosh and MacPherson a chance tae dae what they should’ve done before—kill me.”
“Ye may have a hard time convincin’ some of those old men of that.”
“Mackintosh and MacPherson both pose threats tae our clan on their own. If we allow them tae band together, it’ll be the end of us. They’ve got tae see that.”
“They should. Daesnae mean they will, though,” Ewan said flatly. “Ye’ve dealt with them long enough by now tae ken how they think.”
Struan grumbled under his breath. Every second they delayed, the closer Finlay came to death and the closer their clan came to total destruction.
“Dae ye think killin’ Murdoch is goin’ tae change how Isolde sees ye?”
“What?”
Ewan shrugged. “I mean that when all is said and done, the man is her faither. Fer good or ill—mostly fer ill—he’s her kin. Herblood,” he said. “Dae ye nae worry that if ye kill the man she’ll eventually come tae resent ye fer it? Ye of all people ken just how precious family is. And how deep the grudge runs against somebody who takes that family from ye.”
Would Isolde feel like that as well?
Struan sat back for a moment and turned his face up to the sky. He thought about Ewan’s question for a moment, letting it bounce around in his mind.
Ewan was right about family being precious. And about his grudge against Murdoch for taking Rhona from him. That was the difference. Struan had loved Rhona with everything in him. Having her taken from him had cut him to the bone. But Isolde hated her father. She feared him. She’d lived every day of her life being treated coldly and manipulatively by him. And had tried to force a life upon her she did not want.
Struan shook his head. “Nay. I dinnae think so. Killin’ her faither, I think, would bring her some sense of relief. Nae grief. Nor anger.”
“I hope ye’re right about that.”
“I’ve got good reason tae believe it,” Struan replied. “I’ve gotten tae ken her pretty well and ken just how she feels about her faither. Nae havin’ tae spend her life lookin’ over her shoulder fer fear he will come fer her will come as a relief.”
A grin quirked the corner of Ewan’s mouth. “So long as that life is with ye, eh?”
