“A slice of fresh cottage loaf, mistress?” the cook asked.
“Just the oats. I think I will be running this morning,” Maggie said.
The cook cackled. “The server says Lord Hay’s brother is engaging the laird in conversation right now. I saw him last night. He has a handsome face, but he used one of the serving lasses hard. His heart is a cruel one.”
“Dinna fear,” Maggie answered the woman. “I’ll nae have him.” Then finished with her oats, she hurried up the stairs to the great hall where Lord Hay and his brother, Ewan, were speaking with the laird. Maggie bounded right up to her grandfather’s side, where she stood looking boldly down at the two men.
“Ewan Hay would have yer hand, lass,” Dugald Kerr said.
“Is he willing to meet our terms, Grandsire?” Maggie asked quietly.
“He says he is,” came the reply.
“Today?” Maggie said pointedly. “I dinna like him, Grandsire, and I would quickly put his hopes to an end.”
“Today? Are ye mad?” Ewan Hay burst out. “Ye indulge the wench, my lord, far too much. When we are wed I will nae indulge her so.”
“If ye wish to try to win me, sir, it will be on my grandsire’s terms, and nae yers,” Maggie said coldly. “Today, tomorrow, next week. Ye will nae overcome me, and frankly I should just as soon be quit of ye today as tomorrow.”
“My lord?” Ewan Hay turned to the laird.
“She’s correct, young Hay. So if ye want her, ye will take up the challenge this day. If ye canna win her today, ye will nae be able to win her another day—believe me.”
Ewan Hay turned to his elder brother, but Lord Hay shook his head, saying, “The laird knows whereof he speaks. If ye really want her, then best her this day and be done with it, Ewan. If ye choose nae to, ye canna be blamed if ye dinna want to face this challenge. There are other lasses more biddable for ye to wed than this one.”
“I will nae be beaten by a woman,” Ewan Hay snarled, his face darkening when Maggie laughed aloud.
“We will run barefoot,” she said sweetly.
“Barefoot?”His voice went up a full octave.
“ ’Tis my way, sir.” Then she sat down at the high board, swiftly removing her boots and stockings.
“Decline the challenge, and let us go home,” Lord Hay said to his brother.
“Never!” Ewan Hay almost shouted.
The course they would race both on foot and by horse was to be the same. They would go across the drawbridge, down the hill, run straight through the village, turn about, and come back up the hill again to circle the little keep once before crossing the drawbridge once more. As soon as they returned, they would mount up and redo the identical route a-horse. There would be no stopping.
“And if ye survive the races,” Maggie said, “I will engage ye in swordplay. The match is over when one of us draws blood. Do ye agree?”
“Aye!” Ewan Hay said through gritted teeth. When he had met her challenge and won, he would beat her black and blue on their wedding night for her boldness this day. He yanked off his shoes and stockings.
“Ye hae small feet,” Maggie noted. “They say a man with small feet has a small cock, sir.”
Lord Hay swallowed back his laughter as his younger sibling’s face darkened again with outrage. The lass was baiting him nicely into anger. If he succumbed to that anger, he would drain his energy, but then that was precisely what the girl intended.
He did not expect he would be welcoming Mad Maggie Kerr into their family.
The hall emptied out into the yard and to the drawbridge. Grizel hurried up to her mistress to tie her hair back with a red ribbon. Then Dugald Kerr asked both combatants if they were ready. Gaining their acquiescence, he raised his hand up and dropped the white napkin he had been holding. It fluttered to the ground as Ewan Hay and Maggie Kerr sprinted off to the cheers of the onlookers.
But it was obvious from the beginning that the man could not outrun the girl.
She was almost out of sight before he reached the end of the drawbridge. He winced with each pebble that his foot struck, swearing softly as he tried to run to catch up with her. At the end of the village were two Hay clansmen waiting to verify that both parties had gone the full length. Maggie passed him going in the other direction.
“Bitch!” he shouted at her as she dashed by, and he heard her laughter.
Maggie gave it her all. She wanted this over and done with. Regaining the courtyard, she did not even pause to put her boots back on, although she had more than enough time to do so. She leaped upon the back of her dapple gray stallion and raced from the courtyard, leaning low upon the beast, her bare heels digging into the animal’s side. She passed Ewan Hay as he stumbled up the hill to encircle the castle. It was over, and she knew it, but she knew he would not admit defeat until she blooded him with her blade. She was actually looking forward to it, but she was denied the pleasure, for when she rode back into the courtyard, Ewan Hay was seated upon a step, Grizel tending to his bleeding feet. He had not even bothered to mount his horse.
