Jamie would have loved nothing more than to give it to them. Had this been real combat, it would have been over. Men on the battlefield did not use fancy footwork or engage in small jabs and thrusts. But this was not a battlefield, and Mari would not appreciate him doing actual harm. Still, it was time to end this.
Jamie took a step backward, pretending to stumble. If he were right, Nicholas would not be sportsman enough to allow him to recover.
With a feral grin, Nicholas lunged, the tip of his blade pointed right at Jamie’s heart.
So much for fighting fairly. Jamie rolled to the side, regaining his feet as Nicholas missed his mark. The man attempted a remise, but Jamie spun, bringing his blade down in a cut that pierced Nicholas sword arm, causing him to drop the blade.
Cheering ensued from the crowd. Jamie didn’t take his eyes off Nicholas until Sherrington and the physician came over. “I am all right,” Nicholas said through clenched teeth, his eyes cold as steel. “The bastard tried to trick me.”
“And you gave him no time to recover from his stumble,” Sherrington said. “This duel is over. The painting goes to Mr. MacLeod.”
Jamie walked over to where the portrait stood on its easel. “Do ye wish to keep it?” he asked Mari when she and her friends joined him.
She shook her head. “I do not want to see it ever again.”
Jamie nodded and pulled hissgian dubhfrom his boot. In several swift strokes, he slashed the painting to pieces. “I will have it burned.”
Nicholas came up to them, clutching his now-bandaged arm. “You might have destroyed the painting, Highlander, but you cannot destroy what happened between Marissa and me.”
Jamie resisted the urge to put the man on his arse. “What do you mean by that?”
“How do you think I knew about that birthmark?” Nicholas sneered at him when he didn’t answer. “You might ask her,” he said, “and while you are at it, have her admit she already agreed to marry me before she left for Scotland.”
“Ye lie.”
“Non. I have witnesses.” Nicholas turned to Mari. “When I spoke of our marriage in front of Yancy Newell, Nevin Faulkner and your friend, Madeline, here, you agreed to the courtship. Am I wrong?”
Jamie looked at the women. Mari’s hands flew to her mouth as her face drained of color once more. Maddie’s eyes went huge and round. He had his answer.
Jamie dropped the strips of canvas at Mari’s feet. “Ye will have to decide whom ye want, lass,” he said and turned and walked away.
