Page 11 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

Beitris didn’t give Logan a chance to reply.

“Leave off, Allan. It’s just a friendly contest. Grimhand here dinnae seem tae believe I can hold my own. We are almost finished, I just need tae nick him,” Beitris said.

Allan’s eyes bugged wide then he shook his head. “Aye, Donal speaks highly of him. But, sister, what are ye thinking? Actually, ye are nae thinking. Ye never dae. It’s been the same since ye were a lass.”

“And ye are still too serious for yer own good. Dinnae ye believe I can fight?” Beitris challenged.

Elliot stepped in. “I think Allan means that ye dinnae need tae prove anything.”

“This duel is over,” Allan said, grabbing Beitris’ arm.

Beitris glared at him and wrenched her arm away, but her head dropped and it was clear that her brothers were going to get their way. Allan turned to Logan and sneered at him.

“Ken yer place, Grimhand,” he spat.

Logan watched them walk away. Three children who had the luxury of knowing their mother, of having a father who cared for them, at least so the stories said. They lived in a Keep that was filled with life rather than one that was cast in shadow. Although none of them had any idea of the darkness that was so close.

Soon enough they would all know some semblance of the pain that Logan felt. Ryan Knox would bleed, and his children would weep, and justice would be served.

A petty contest would be the least of Beitris’ concerns.

4

Beitris had changed out of her training clothes and wore a colorful gown that flowed as she walked. She’d run a brush through her hair, which had untangled the stubborn knots.

Hours had passed, and still that infernal man played on her mind.

She was certain that she could have defeated him. She had been patient in her defense and had been ready to strike when her silly brothers had come along to interfere. They had always ruined her fun.

She joined her family in the Great Hall. A feast had been laid out before them, a seat was reserved for her beside her sisters-in-law, Eilidh and Calista. Allan and Elliot sat opposite them, while her mother and father, Ryan and Caroline, were sitting at other ends of the table. The children were with wet nurses.

Beitris smiled at her sisters-in-law, but she reserved only scowls for her brothers. She picked up a knife but paused before she cut her meat.

“Am I allowed tae eat, or are ye gaeing tae interfere in that as well?” she glared at Allan.

Allan glanced at Elliot and rolled his eyes. “Dinnae be angry with me, lass. I was only protecting ye. What dae ye think ye were daeing, getting involved in a fight with Grimhand?”

Eilidh and Calista gasped.

“Sae it is true? I heard the whispers. Apparently he’s the fiercest warrior the clan hae ever seen, although I’m sure Duncan would dispute that. What is he like? We hae only heard stories,” Eilidh says.

Beitris took a moment to think. It was surprisingly difficult to concisely express her opinion about the man. He was impossible. He was infuriating. He was arrogant, and she hated him. But he was also imposing and powerful. He was strong, his body taut with muscles and hot with strength as though there was a fire burning inside him. If she lingered too long she would get scorched, but it was, oh, so tempting to reach out and touch the flames.

Thankfully, her father interrupted, preventing her from answering the question, although it troubled her that she still had so many complicated feelings about him.

“Ye should nae be training with the guards anyway. I dinnae like the idea of ye joining them,” he said.

“Dae ye like Allan and Elliot fighting? Because I am better than both of them. How many times did I put ye on yer back when we were bairns?” Beitris fired back, glaring at Elliot.

Calista stifled a giggle.

“We were bairns,” Elliot said.

“And it is different,” Ryan said.

“It is only different because ye make it different. If I were a man we would nae be haeing this discussion, and if ye dinnae want me then I’m sure Aunt Nessa would.”

Beitris wore a haughty expression. Ryan scowled.