Page 133 of Under the Laird’s Promise

The MacBain men slammed into the Sinclair fighters with devastating force. Steel rang against steel. Men shouted and cursed. The neat garden paths transformed into a battlefield.

Greg cut down two attackers in quick succession, his movements economical and deadly. He positioned himself near Maighread, creating a defensive barrier.

"Get behind me, me lady!"

Maighread ducked behind Greg's broad frame just as another Sinclair soldier lunged for her. Greg intercepted the strike, his blade moving in a vicious arc that opened the man's throat. Blood sprayed across the stone path.

Maighread didn't hesitate. She drove her dagger into another assailant who'd gotten too close, aiming for the gap in his armor. The man screamed and fell.

Tavish's heart hammered. His wife was fighting like a born warrior, fearless and brutal. It was magnificent and terrifying at the same time.

A blade came at him from the side. Tavish spun, blocked, and recognized the attacker. One of Keir's captains, a man he'd seen at MacEwan Castle during that first tense dinner. The captain fought well, pressing Tavish hard with a series of complex attacks.

But Tavish was better.

He feinted left, drew the captain's guard out of position, then drove his sword through the gap. The blade punched through leather and flesh. The captain's eyes widened in shock before he crumpled.

Movement to his right. Keir, circling like a predator, waiting for an opening.

Their eyes met across the chaos.

"Still hiding behind yer men?" Tavish taunted.

Keir's jaw clenched. "I dinnae hide from anything."

"Could have fooled me. Sending mercenaries tae dae yer dirty work. Attacking from ambush like a coward."

"Strategy isnae cowardice."

"Call it what ye want. Ye're still a pathetic bastard who cannae accept nay fer an answer."

Keir's face flushed with rage. "She was meant tae be mine! The Council agreed, her faither practically promised, everyone understood the logic of it. Then ye appeared out of nowhere and stole what wasnae yers tae take!"

"She wasnae yers tae steal. She's a person, nae property."

"She's a clan asset! A means tae power! And ye've ruined everything!"

Keir lunged. Not at Tavish, but past him. Toward Maighread.

Tavish's blood turned to ice.

He threw himself between them, his blade meeting Keir's with bone-jarring force. The impact sent shock waves up his arm. Keir's face was twisted with fury, all pretense of civility stripped away.

"Get away from her!" Tavish roared.

"Why? So ye can keep her? So ye can marry her?" Keir's voice was venomous. "It daesnae matter. Once yer dead, she'll have nae choice but tae turn tae me. The clan will need protection. I'll be there tae provide it."

"We're married, ye delusional bastard. Properly married. Before witnesses, before a priest. She's me wife!"

Keir went absolutely still. Then his eyes blazed with something beyond rage. Beyond reason.

"Then I kill him first," he snarled.

He came at Tavish with reckless abandon, all strategy abandoned in favor of raw fury. Their swords clashed again and again, the sound ringing across the garden. Tavish gave ground, letting Keir's momentum carry him forward, waiting for the opening.

"Ye think ye deserve her?" Keir spat between strikes. "Ye think ye're worthy? Ye're nothing! A second son from a middling clan, playing at heroism!"

"And yer a spoiled lordling who cannae handle rejection."