Page 48 of Laird Of Her Heart

Cameron narrowed his gaze on her and lifted his sword.

Maggie knew she had to do something, say something drastic. If she did not, Torquil would attack again and Dominic might die—a platter was not much of a weapon, even though it was made from a toxic metal.

She stepped forward and loudly proclaimed, “Torquil Cameron, if you value your life you will cease and desist at once.”

The Cameron froze, mid-swing. He looked her up and down; though his eyes glimmered, his face twisted in a sneer. “I like your bravery lass,” he hissed.

“Tis not bravery.”

“It is. To challenge me like that.”

She laughed, though it cost her. “It’s no act of bravery to challenge a dead man.”

Silence fell over the bailey with a dull clang.

Cameron peered at her with one eye half closed. “What did you say?” Her hackles rose at his tone, but she could not allow herself to sink into fear. There was far too much at stake.

With all the nonchalance she could muster, she picked up a flagon from the table and took a sip. She couldn’t hide her grimace. She didn’t care for mead, she decided. It tasted a little bit like honey-flavored shit.

“Woman. Answer me.”

She set the cup down. “I think you heard me.”

He stilled. His face went a trifle red. He lunged for her.

He should not have. For one thing, he gave her far too much warning. As he approached, she stepped forward, into his attack, grabbed his arm and whipped around, pulling him toward her. Then she used the leverage of his momentum to toss him over her shoulder. He landed on the stone cobbles with a shuddering thud.

As a huge gasp rose up among the gathering, she plucked an errant thread from her sleeve.

“Please doona do that again,” she said in a warning tone. She hoped he would be warned, but he was a bull of a man and they tended to be dense. She decided to go on the offense. “I would hate to be the one to end you.”

Cameron struggled to his feet and gaped at her.

She met his ominous glower with a simper. “I do deplore violence.”

He seemed as though he was considering another rush at her, so she tipped her head to the side and fixed him with an imperious look. “Dinna the Macintosh tell you what I am?”

He glanced at Dominic, whose expression went bleak. “Nae, Maggie-mine. Donna tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

“I am no’ just a mere lass.”

“Are ye no’?”

“I come from a land, far to the west. Beyond the great sea.”

The Cameron snorted. “There is no land to the west beyond the great sea.”

Maggie sighed and glanced at the sky. She tried to appear blasé in her perusal, but she was not. She had to time this just right…and she sincerely doubted she could, for she didn’t know everything. She didn’t know everything at all. She had to pray her memory was clear, that some future astronomer hadn’t gotten a date or a declination wrong. Her pulse pounded.

“Ah, but there is. A great land. Blessed by God. Flowing with milk and honey. Amber waves of grain and all that.”

Torquil narrowed his eyes. It made him look even more like a pig.

“I come from The Emerald City.”

Dominic frowned. “I thought you said you came from a place called Seattle?”