“He knows more than he let on,” his da muttered.
“Aye. Druids always do.” He looked askance at his da. “Let us return to the cottage before any of Ma’s friends arrive. We must tell Ma not to share any of what Grayce told us.”
“Brianna knows well the harm gossip can cause. She’ll not say a word, and Grayce is not likely to share something so personal. A cannier woman ye’ll never find than your ma, lad.” He placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder and turned him in the direction of home. “I’m a lucky man, and that’s the truth. My wish for you is that ye’ll be as lucky in love as I have been.”
“Aye?” The relief coursing through him came out in burst of laughter. “What a coincidence, for ’tis my greatest wish as well.”
Chapter Six
* * *
Grayce wrapped her arms around herself and peered through the rain at the four sword-wielding men who’d been paired off inside the large ring. The area, about the size of a basketball court, was delineated by yet another low wall of stone about a foot and a half tall. Aiden battled Dylan, and Brian faced off against James. Over the course of a few days, they’d made it into the top four, and today’s match would determine the two remaining contestants who would fight for first place tomorrow.
Grunts, shouts, and the clank of steel against steel reverberated through the air, and mud spattered the spectators who stood too close. Druids caught the most splatters since they acted as judges and referees and were positioned closest to the action.
“I cannot believe I’m standing in the pouring rain for the third day in a row, watching your son fight with a medieval sword,” Grayce grumbled, huddling into her borrowed cloak. At least she’d had the foresight to wear her hiking boots. She shuddered to think what would become of her leather moccasins in the wet grass and mud.
“If ye wish to return to the cottage, lass, no one will stop ye,” Sloan said. His hair was plastered to his head, and he wore a poncho of well-oiled leather. “We’ll be happy to inform ye of the outcome later.”
With Brian as one of the contestants? Grayce stood her ground, tucked her hands under her armpits for warmth and scowled at Sloan through the rain and rising mist.
“Staying put are ye? Can ye not tear yourself away then?”
“Stop teasing her, love.” Brianna nudged her husband with her shoulder.
A shout rose from the crowd, drawing Grayce’s attention back to the combatants. Dylan had fallen. He attempted to roll away from the downward arc of Aiden’s sword, but the mud hindered his efforts. Aiden followed, taking advantage of his opponent’s vulnerability. He knocked away Dylan’s defensive block and drew his sword across the downed man’s chest, drawing blood. The fight was over. His jaw clenched, Dylan pushed himself to his feet. Blood trickled down his torso from the unnecessarily deep cut as he left the ring. Brian and his opponent continued fighting as if unaware of what had just happened.
Aiden had shown a distinct lack of sportsmanship throughout the longsword tournament. Where other participants offered each other a hand up, a friendly slap on the back, and a word of encouragement or congratulations, Aiden turned his back. He did so with Dylan as well.
Stepping over the stone barrier, Aiden pushed his way through the spectators and came to stand before Grayce. He rested the tip of his sword on the ground at her feet. “Will ye not congratulate me on my victory, Grayce?”
His smugness, the triumphant glint in his eyes, grated on her nerves. Gasps and whispers buzzed in her ear like a swarm of bees, and heat rushed to her face. Keep the peace. Don’t poke the bear. “Sure. Congratulations.”
Sloan moved protectively to her side and widened his stance. “’Tis not over yet, boyo,” he cautioned. “Ye’ve another round to fight before ye can declare yourself the winner. Aye?”
Aiden huffed out a disdainful laugh. “Aye, but I will win, and I shall soon be the chieftain of Sráidbhaile Meán. As such, my first official act will be to banish ye and your kin from our village. Rapists are not welcome in Sráidbhaile Meán,” he said his voice loud enough to ensure Brian would hear him.
The gasps and whispers turned to cries of indignation from those nearby. Outrage burned a trail through Grayce. Sloan tensed and took a step forward, his hands fisted. Damn. She was about to be in the middle of a fist fight.
Brianna took a firm hold of her husband’s arm. “He’s not worth the effort, my love. Ignore the annoying midge.”
Sudden insight flowed from Aiden into Grayce’s awareness. She canted her head and arched a brow. “Aiden is doing this to distract Brian in the hopes that he’ll be thrown off and lose this round.” Aiden wasn’t the only one whose voice could carry. “He doesn’t want to face your son in the final bout, and who can blame him? Everyone knows Brian can kick his ass, and not just with a longsword.”
Her dart found its target. Aiden’s face turned scarlet, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. “Oh wow,” Grayce said, blinking at him. “That’s an interesting shade of red you’ve got going on there, buddy. You might want to go stick your head in a bucket.”
With that final volley, Grayce turned to smile serenely at Sloan, her knees knocking and her heart lodged in her throat. “Brianna is right. Ignore the midge.” She waved her hand in front of her as if batting away an insect.
Aiden seethed, and all that anger spilled onto her, but dammit, he’d gone too far. The man was a total ass, and that made keeping the peace impossible. Grayce returned her attention to the contestants still doing battle. “Who is Brian fighting again? I don’t remember his name.” She hoped like hell Sloan would take her cue and go along with her.
“James. He’s a good friend of Brian’s,” Sloan said, his tension easing.
Finally, Aiden stormed off, and her insides turned to jelly—not the good kind for toast, but the nasty, gelatinous mess you find at the bottom of the pan from yesterday’s roast. She let out a long, slow breath. “That was a mistake.”
Brianna’s features were drawn, and worry radiated from her. “Hmm.”
The back of Grayce’s neck prickled, and a cloud of malevolence descended over her. What now? Other than Aiden, who on earth could harbor so much animosity toward her? She’d hardly been here long enough to offend anyone. As surreptitiously as possible, she sought the source. Rebecca and Aiden’s mother were both giving her the evil eye from across the circle. “This day just gets better and better.”
Grayce turned away from the two women to peer through the rain toward the head druid. Ceann Carraig, his gray robe dotted with mud, stood on the north side of the ring. He had his eye on the pair of evil-eyed women. As Aiden joined Rebecca and his mother, the druid’s brow lowered, and his expression turned intensely pensive. That he was aware of the growing tension eased Grayce’s apprehension a smidgeon—at least enough that she could go back to appreciating Brian’s god-like physique in action. Surely the druids would intervene if things got too far out of hand between the two rivals.
Brian and James were both breathing hard as their swords clashed mid-air, dropped and clashed again at waist level. The two circled, swung, thrusted and parried. They were evenly matched and fought as if they knew each other’s best moves as well as they knew their own.
Rainwater ran in rivulets down their naked, muscled torsos. The sexy spectacle was enough to make any girl swoon, and if she weren’t shivering from cold and the pouring rain, she’d be fanning her face. This beat cable TV by a long shot.
James went on the offensive, driving hard in a flurry of high strikes. Brian raised his sword in defense, and James suddenly dropped his swing and came in underneath to nick Brian’s side. The scratch was barely deep enough to draw blood but bleed it did. The match over, Brian grinned, gripped his friend’s wrist and raised his arm in the air, declaring James the victor. He praised James’s skill, and the two did that brief shoulder bump, backslap thing men did.
“Hold on,” Grayce whispered as Ceann Carraig walked to the center of the muddy circle. “What just happened?”
“James won, that’s what.” Sloan sounded as stunned as she felt.
Muddy and bedraggled, Brian came to stand with her and his parents. Still breathing hard, he swiped his dripping hair back from his face. “That’s done with.” He heaved a sigh and grinned at her.
How was it he didn’t seem at all fazed by Aiden’s drama or by his loss? Grayce’s eyes narrowed, and she concentrated. What she got from him was a sense of resigned satisfaction. She sucked in a breath. “You—”
“The final bout shall take place on the morrow at half noon between Aiden and James,” Ceann Carraig announced. “Let us get out of this rain. Blessings upon all of ye, and congratulations to James and Aiden.” With that, Ceann Carraig sloshed through the mud, leaving the ring, and the crowd began to disperse.
Brian walked alongside his father, talking in a low tone, and Brianna linked her arm through Grayce’s. Supporting each other, she and Brianna picked their way through the slippery mud to patches of grass and stone.
“A chair before the fire, a cup of tea and a good drying off,” Brianna said. “I look forward to all three.”
Grayce nodded, her thoughts on Brian, Aiden, and the animosity from Rebecca and Helen. What a stew for the pot they all made.
“We can take this opportunity to work on your shifts.”
“That would be good.” While she’d learned how to spin wool, Brenda, one of the women who had come to help card wool, had measured Grayce and cut linen enough for two shifts, one gown of heavy wool and another of a lighter weave for the warmer season.
Grayce had wanted to protest that she wouldn’t be there long enough to wear the heavier gown, but she couldn’t bring herself to reject the generosity shown to her by Brianna and her friends.
Surely by autumn she’d be long gone. She’d better be home by mid-June because she’d only taken two weeks off from work. Losing her job would not be a good thing. What could she say to her boss once she returned? Um, I was stuck in a place that is hidden from the rest of the world where people live like they did in the Dark Ages. Can I have my job back please? Her manager would think she was certifiable. Actually, the people here had progressed to living in a manner more like that of Shakespeare’s time, but still, a long way from what she was accustomed to.
Brian and his dad had reached the cabin well before she and Brianna, and by the time she walked inside, the fire had been stirred to life and a few squares of peat and a log had been added. Sloan was setting a cauldron of water on the swing arm over the flames.
“I’m making tea, and Brian went to wash and change,” he told them. “He’ll be back in a trice.”
Grayce hung up her sodden cloak on a peg by the door. She leaned over, unlaced her shoes and toed them off as well. Then she slipped her feet into her slippers and crossed the room to stand beside the fire to dry. “Do you think Brian let James win their match?”
“Hard telling. He and James have been sparring since they were wee lads.” Sloan shrugged. “You were brave to stand up to Aiden the way you did.”
“Don’t you mean foolish?” The back door swung open, letting in a gust of wet, chilly air and a sexy, complex Irishman with dark hair, broad shoulders, and seductive brown eyes.
“My ears are ringing. Were ye talking about me, Grayce of the Fading Blue Hair?”
True. She’d washed her hair yesterday. The blue was fading, and her hair had grown a quarter inch since she’d done the dye job. “I was indeed.” She frowned at him. “You let James win.”
“Did I?” His eyes went wide, and he placed a hand on his chest as if the suggestion was an affront. “Now, why would I do such a thing?”
“You did, and I have no idea why you would do such a thing.”
“Ah, well, a wise man once told me it takes as much inner strength to walk away as it does to face a threat, especially if the threat is a horse’s arse,” he said taking a seat at the table. “Ye did bid me to stop taunting Aiden, did ye not?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I never intended for you to throw a match.”
“I thought it best to rob Aiden of the opportunity to have at me with a sharp, pointy object. I’ll wrestle him to the ground, fight him with my fists. I’ll best him at archery and with the lance, but ’twould be foolish indeed to take needless risks where Aiden is concerned.”
Sighing, he rubbed his face. “Aiden holds no grudge against James; therefore, he’s less likely to cause him any real harm.” Lifting his face from his hands, he grinned and winked at her. “I came in third. ’Tis enough to keep me in the running, aye?”
With each passing day she was falling a little bit more in love with him. Grayce bit her lip and stared into the fire. Brian was almost too perfect, too beautiful. “The water is boiling.” She picked up the poker and swung the cauldron away from the flames. “Could one of you bring the teapot over?” She reached for the ladle.
“Got it,” Sloan grabbed the kettle and added Brianna’s special mixture of dried herbs.
“I’ll slice bread and cheese.” Brian rose from the table and headed for the counter and the bread Brianna had made that morning. “’Tis too early for supper, but I’m hungry after wielding a sword for so long.”
After a flurry of activity, Grayce sat at the table with Brian and his parents, a toasted cheese sandwich and a cup of aromatic honey-sweetened tea in front of her, and a big ole lump in her throat. Not only was she infatuated with Brian, she also cared about his parents.
“Anyone care to have our own wee tournament?” Sloan asked. “We’ve two cribbage boards, after all.”
“Aye, why not? ’Tis far too wet to do aught outside. Do ye know how to play, Grayce?”
“I do.” In fact, she had a competitive streak when it came to card games. “Sounds like fun.”
“Good. Brian and I will check on the livestock first. Keep the tea hot, love.” Sloan rose from his place. “Is there aught we can fetch from the springhouse on our way back?”
“Yes. Meat and root vegetables enough for tonight’s stew. Grayce and I will get everything ready, and it can simmer while we play cards.”
“Ye make the best stew in all three villages,” Sloan said, leaning over to kiss Brianna’s cheek.
Brian jammed the last bit of his second sandwich into his mouth, gulped down the rest of his tea, and stood up. He stretched, raising his arms high over his head with his fingers laced. His face contorted into a goofy, boyish squinch that pierced her heart.
“Good thing I brought an oiled hide with me. I don’t enjoy the prospect of another soaking,” he said.
“We’ll make quick work of it, lad. Grab some jerky for the dogs.”
The back door opened again, and another blast of air caused the flames to dance in the hearth, and then the two men were gone. Just when she thought the lump in her throat couldn’t get any worse, the thing grew larger. She might regret walking away from Brian in the years to come, but if she stayed, she’d regret the loss of her family and her way of life. But damn, she’d miss him and his parents like hell.
“Who do ye think will win today’s bout?” Sloan asked.
“James to be sure,” Brian said, walking alongside his da toward the field where the final sword fight would take place. He took in the pristine day. Nary a cloud in sight, and after the hard rain, everything had turned a deeper, more vibrant shade of green. Even the air smelled sweeter. “At least the rain has stopped.”
“Aye, but ’twill take days before the mud dries.”
“James won’t be hindered by the mud. He’s as sure-footed as a feral goat.” Brian’s gaze drifted to Grayce and his ma ahead of them. Their heads were bent close as if sharing secrets.
Happiness almost too great to bear filled his heart. Just looking at Grayce brought a smile to his face and a hitch in his breathing. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the way she’d stood up to Aiden on his behalf. What would it be like once she was his? They’d share a bed, a home, and their lives. He’d scarce be able to breathe, much less c
oncentrate enough to get much done during the day. Ah, but the nights—during the nights he’d be busy indeed.
“Speaking of goats,” his da said. “I’ve been thinking of acquiring a few. We could try our hand at making goat cheese to sell at market.”
“I much prefer the cheese we make from cow’s milk. ’Tis less … goaty.”
His da laughed. “Aye, there is that. There are many who enjoy goat cheese though, and your ma could make suggestions regarding herbs and berries to add. Come to think of it, Grayce might enjoy learning how to make cheese.”
“Mayhap she would.” Once again, his attention drifted to Grayce. A few more women had joined her and his mother, and the group seemed to be deep in earnest conversation. “What do ye suppose they’re talking about?” He jutted his chin in the direction of the women ahead of them.
“I imagine they’re going over yesterday’s scene between Grayce and Aiden.” His da shook his head. “I shudder to think what might become of our village should he be become our chieftain.”
“As do I.”
“How will ye deal with the other lads coming to court Grayce once the tournament is over? ’Tis certain James, Dylan and Aiden will join ye in the top four. Aiden has made his intentions clear where Grayce is concerned, though it might have been all for show. He spends quite a bit of time with Rebecca.”
Brian drew in a long breath and let it out slowly in a futile attempt to dispel his jealousy. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not well. ’Twill take every bit of self-discipline I have not to beat the others away from her, but I’ve no choice in the matter.” He tensed recalling how Aiden had approached her near the cliffs the other day. Might Aiden try to coerce Grayce into accepting him if given the chance? And what about Rebecca? None of Brian’s closest friends had shown the least interest in the dark-haired lassie.
How they did things needed to change. Women should be allowed to settle into their communities naturally, and to be approached by any young man they happened to fancy. After all, they were not stags fighting for the right to mate.
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