“I’m sorry. I didnae mean to,” Logan directed his attention to his feet.
“You can stay and watch, or you can leave. Your choice,” Zeke said.
“A moment, please. I challenge you to a duel.” Dougall stated.
“What for?” Zeke asked, appearing surprised by Dougall’s challenge.
“Fer Helene’s hand.”
“I told you, she’s her own woman. I’m not going to fight a duel to win her. If she doesn’t want to be with you, then you should accept that. Fighting me isn’t going to change anything, but if you really want to fight, then by all means let’s. I’m pretty sure I’m going to win.”
Chapter 17
The atmospherein the studio was strained causing an uneasy knot to form in Helene’s stomach. She was afraid that Dougall might injure or even kill Zeke. He was, after all, one of the best swordsmen in the MacKenzie clan. Only Cailin and Cormac MacBayne were better. She had no idea what skills Zeke had, but she hoped they were good enough to at least prevent his own death.
Thinking more on it, she was angry that Dougall had taken things to this level, although it was somewhat flattering that he wished to fight for her. Still, that wasn’t about to change anything as far as she was concerned. He’d always told her that he couldn’t wait for the day when he would become Laird of the MacRae Clan and she wasn’t about to make that difficult for him. She’d always be a servant in the eyes of the MacRaes and she knew his father would never approve of his marriage to her, so where did that leave her? She’d already told him she refused to be his mistress and she wasn’t about to change her mind. No. He had to go home and accept that he was to marry Greer Matheson. Helene would be fine here in San Francisco. It wasn’t Breaghacraig and she’d certainly miss the MacKenzies, but she had Zeke and Sara and she was meeting some of their friends. Dougall must return to fulfill his life’s goal. She’d be fine.
Dougall joined the rest of the group in the center of the space.
It was a large open room with high ceilings showing long tubes running across from one end to the other. The floors were covered with an unusual rug that was soft under foot. Zeke turned on more of the overhead lights, brightening the interior so they could see more clearly.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Zeke said as he entered an adjoining room.
“Dougall, ’tis a fool’s errand yer on. I’ll nae go back with ye.” Helene had to find a way to stop this fight from happening.
“Ye must,” Dougall said.
The hurt she saw on his handsome face, the face she loved above all else, tore at her heart, but she wasn’t going to take him back. He had to leave. He had to be Laird MacRae. She would sacrifice everything for him to achieve the one thing he’d always told her he wanted.
“I’ll nae leave without ye, love.” Dougall softened his tone, almost pleading with her.
She fought every instinct she had that was telling her to go to him. If she touched him or felt his breath upon her cheek, she’d be unable to resist this man she had loved for so long and who now could no longer be hers. “Yer a stubborn man, Dougall MacRae.” Helene walked away, following after Zeke.
Dougall’s head was spinning. Where was the Helene he knew and loved? This Helene seemed determined to hurt him. He understood why she would be angry with him for leaving her with his father, but he’d had no choice. If he hadn’t then he would have ended up imprisoned and unable to help her. When he’d left her there in his bed, he was the happiest man on earth. He was confident he could overcome his father’s objections to Helene. He merely had to make him see how he felt about her and his father would capitulate, or so he thought. He knew his father to be conniving, but he had no idea he would go that far. That he would lock her up and leave her there, hoping she’d die before Dougall got back and thus solving Laird MacRae’s problem.
Having left in a hurry, nothing had been resolved with his father. Returning and sorting it all out was of the utmost importance. He had intended to speak with his father upon his return from patrolling MacRae lands. He had still been hopeful that they could come to a compromise, but when he’d found that Helene had been imprisoned and was missing, he’d only had time for some angry words before leaving to search for her. Now that he’d found her, his goal was to get Helene to return with him and then leave her at Breaghacraig while he would go on to Castle Treun to speak with his father. None of this was proving to be as easy as he anticipated it might be. Didn’t she understand how much he loved her? Perhaps fighting the man who hoped to be her new love was not the best idea, but damn it he was angry and frustrated and in his own time he would have worked it all out on the practice field, but things were different here.
Zeke came back into the room prepared for battle. Dougall read it in his eyes and a quick glance at Helene showed her anxiety that one or both of them would be hurt.
“We’ll nae fight to the death, only to first blood.” He glanced at Helene and saw relief on her face.
“I don’t usually fight to injure anyone,” Zeke stated.
“Well, today you shall.” Dougall narrowed his eyes and took a strong stance opposite Zeke. He gripped his sword and took a few practice swings through the air above his head to loosen his tense body. Zeke did the same. When they were done, he took a fighting stance.
“Ready?” Zeke asked, appearing not the least bit concerned.
“Aye.” Dougall answered.
They began the dance, circling each other and ready for any movement on the part of their adversary. Dougall moved first, lunging at Zeke, who blocked the thrust with his own sword. He moved in closer and Dougall mimicked his steps moving backwards. Out of the corner of his eye, Dougall could see that Helene was standing with Logan now, her hands over her face as if she were afraid to watch. Their swords met again in a great clang of metal on metal as they continued to parry with one another. Parrying turned into grappling and before long they both found themselves on the floor where Zeke came out on top. Dougall struggled to gain control, but Zeke had the upper hand and the momentum. Dougall rarely found himself in this position and he didn’t care for it. His preoccupation with Helene and his arrogance about his own abilities had put him at a disadvantage. His opponent was an unknown to him and Dougall had assumed that since Zeke was not a true Highland warrior, he couldn’t possibly be a threat. He had been wrong and now he was struggling to get back into the fight. He used all of his strength to push Zeke off of him and in the process the pommel of Zeke’s sword made contact with Dougall’s eye momentarily stunning him. The room was completely silent now, except for the sounds of the two men grunting and growling as they rolled across the floor, each trying to disarm the other. Getting to their feet, they continued to grapple with each other. Dougall narrowly missed Zeke with his blade and then evaded a blow from him. He could barely see out of the injured eye, but he was determined to draw first blood and end this battle. He took one last look at Helene, who appeared to be crying. Then much to his surprise and deep humiliation, Zeke’s sword struck him, glancing off Dougall’s cheek and ending the fight.
“I believe I’ve drawn first blood,” Zeke said. “I win.” He turned and walked away.
Dougall dropped his head, embarrassed to be seen this way. Blood dripped from his face and it was Sara who came to his aid with a wet cloth, which she used to dab at the blood.
“Here, you might want to hold that in place for a minute to see if it stops bleeding. I’m going to go get some ice for your eye.
Dougall did his best to glance around the room, but Helene wasn’t anywhere to be seen and neither was Zeke. Had she gone off with him. His head was throbbing and his eye must be nearly closed. Sara returned with the ice. “What am I to do with this?”
