One of the men, a large, brutish fellow, spotted Una and Bella sitting at their table.His eyes lit up with drunken interest, and he elbowed his companions.
"Look at that," he said loudly."Two bonnie lasses."
"They're not alone," Gilroy said, standing up and moving to intercept."And they're not for the likes of ye."
The man laughed, a nasty sound."Did I ask ye, guardsman?Maybe the ladies can speak for themselves."
He started toward their table, and Una stood up, slightly tipsy."We're not interested.Move along."
"Feisty," the man leered, reaching for Una's arm."I like that in a woman."
What happened next occurred in the span of a heartbeat.
The man's hand closed around Una's wrist and he yanked her roughly out of her seat.Bella moved without thinking, shooting to her feet and shoving the man away from her friend with surprising force.
"Dinnae touch her," Bella said, her voice deadly calm.
The man stumbled back, then his face darkened with rage."Ye whore!"
He swung at Bella.
Gilroy and Darach both lunged forward, but Bella had already moved.She ducked under the wild punch, feeling it whistle past her ear.
Then, with movements honed by years of training, Bella struck back.
Her fist connected with the man's nose with a satisfying crack.Blood spurted, and he reeled back, more from shock than pain.Bella swept his legs out from under him, and he went down hard, crashing into a nearby table.
The man's companions roared with anger and rushed forward.One of them, a wiry fellow with mean eyes, came straight at Bella.She sidestepped his clumsy grab and sent him sprawling with a well-placed strike.
Gilroy caught another attacker with a solid punch.Darach grappled with a fourth man, wrestling him toward the ground.
Una grabbed a trencher and swung it at the nearest troublemaker, connecting with his face."Leave us alone, ye skunner!"she shrieked, swaying but fierce.
Another man, large and hulking, managed to get behind Bella while she was focused on the wiry attacker.His thick arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back against his chest in a bruising grip.
"Got ye now, ye wee wildcat," he breathed against her ear, his breath reeking of ale and rot.
The tavern door slammed open with such force it crashed against the wall and everyone froze at the roar accompanying it.
"GET YER HANDS OFF MY WIFE!"
Boyd stood in the doorway, his massive frame filling the entrance, his face thunderous with rage.His sandy hair was windswept, his traveling cloak billowing behind him, and his eyes, those piercing blue eyes, locked onto the man holding Bella with murderous intent.
The rowdy men began to shake with genuine fear.Unlike most of the village patrons who knew Boyd as the MacKinnon Laird, these men were not local.They were mercenaries and they only saw the deadly Monk standing before them with violence in his eyes.
The one holding Bella pleaded with a trembling voice, "Please.I...I did not ken she was yers.I swear it—"
Then Boyd moved with lightning speed, crossing the distance in powerful strides.Before he could finish his sentence, Boyd's fist connected with the man's jaw with a sickening crack.His head snapped back, his eyes rolling, and he crumpled to the floor unconscious.
Bella stumbled forward, freed from his grip, but Boyd was already there.He caught her, spinning her around so her back pressed against his front.His arm banded across her waist like an iron bar, holding her firmly against him, claiming her.
"Anyone else?"Boyd's voice was deadly quiet, but it carried to every corner of the tavern.His arm tightened possessively around Bella."Anyone else dare to put their hands on my woman?"
The remaining mercenaries did not move, terror written across their faces.
Boyd's arm remained locked around Bella's waist, her back flush against his chest.She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the tension thrumming through his body.
"Listen well, all of ye," Boyd said, his voice ringing across the silent tavern."This woman is my wife.Mine.Not one of ye is to touch her.Not one of ye is to even look at her the wrong way, or ye'll answer to me."
