“Usually I don’t like other men’s leavings,” he heard a voice behind him say. “But in her case, I’ll make an exception. If the lass needs more sword practice after the outlaw is done with her, I’ll be happy to give her a few more lessons—especially in oiling. I’d like to have that mouth polishing my steel.”
Niall recognized the voice right away. The fact that the other man was slurring didn’t penetrate the red haze of rage that descended over him, nor did the fact that Niall was only one against a table of at least a dozen.
He stood, turned, picked the man up by the back of his neck to face him, and slammed his fist into his jaw. Connell went flying backward and landed on the table, sending food and drink scattering with a crash. The curses and gasps of surprise were followed by the sound of benches falling back and hitting the floor as men jumped to their feet. Niall soon found himself in the center of a melee, being pummeled from all directions by Connell’s furious—and drunk—friends.
He wasn’t alone though. Robbie was standing beside him. But even with two, the numbers weren’t in their favor. Niall lost track of Robbie as he landed on the floor and boots were added to the fists that were striking most of his body.
He heard a crack and knew from the pain in his side there had to be at least one broken rib.
Another particularly powerful blow to the head made him see stars. He might have lost consciousness for a moment, because when he came to, the men had been pulled off him and Patrick MacGregor was pulling him to his feet.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Annie’s brother demanded. “Connell said you attacked him for no reason.”
“That isn’t true,” said a voice from Niall’s side.
Niall looked over and was relieved to see Robbie standing beside him and, except for a bloody lip and cheek, looking relatively unscathed.
Patrick gazed back and forth between them and the Campbells. Niall was glad to see that Connell had to be propped up by two of his friends and looked considerably worse than even Niall felt.
“Who is going to tell me what happened?”
Niall exchanged a glance with Robbie, who understood, and then he scanned the Campbell faces, who from their grim expressions also seemed to understand. Connell Campbell’s skin had turned the grayish tone of a man who knew and feared what could be coming his way.
If Niall repeated what he’d said, Patrick would continue where Niall and Robbie had left off—and this time he wouldn’t have his friends to rescue him.
But Niall wasn’t going to repeat what he said. He would never repeat the crude words that would only make Annie the subject of more gossip and speculation.
Niall had been too happy and grateful to spend time with her to think how it would look. He’d thought they were out of the way enough not to draw attention. Apparently, he was wrong.
Niall’s jaw flexed intractably. His teeth practically gritted together as he said, “It was nothing.”
He could practically feel the collective sigh of relief that came from the Campbells.
Donnan had come up to stand beside his new chieftain. “Is that true?” he demanded of the Campbell clansmen.
One of the older guardsmen nodded. “Aye, it was a misunderstanding. Too much drink,” he added.
Patrick’s steely-eyed gaze didn’t leave Niall’s face. He didn’t believe a word of it. But he’d probably guessed what had happened.
Niall looked around, relieved to see that Annie wasn’t part of the crowd watching them. Neither was Elizabeth Campbell or the other ladies from the dais. Patrick must have sent them from the room when the fighting broke out.
“I see,” Patrick said. It was clear he did. “Well, the party is over. I will decide your punishment for breaking the peace tomorrow.”
The men started to disperse. Niall went to follow Robbie, but Patrick stopped him. “Not you. I want to talk to you.”
Niall sighed. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. He followed Patrick out of the great hall and down the corridor to his private solar.
Patrick motioned to a chair, which Niall gratefully slid into. He was pretty beat up, and he was shamefully close to swaying.
“What happened?”
“I told you.”
“Don’t give me that shite, Niall. I want to know what he said.”
Niall met his anger head-on. “No, you don’t.”
Patrick swore. He sat down in a chair behind his desk, looking a little beat up himself. “I hoped to spare Annie from gossip by bringing her here.”
