Page 53 of Edge of Yesterday

“I suppose I must depend upon your healer to save me, then.” He grinned. “But I bet she isn’t nearly as pretty as you.”

Her eyes blazed and she turned her attention to her brother. “Lennox, I will be at the stables. Word is there’s a new foal I would like to see. When you men finish your foolishness, you may fetch me.” She whirled and strode away across the swordsmith’s yard, making for the stables.

Lennox nodded to the two guards who accompanied them. “Go with her.”

They turned and hurried after her.

Lennox faced Cailean. “Are ye ready?”

Cailean nodded. He rolled his sleeves up to his forearms, then sliced Triumph through the air and faced Lennox. Both men cut their blades through the chill, misty air. They stood yards apart, but they bowed then, almost in unison, raised their swords to their lips and kissed the hilts.

That courtesy done, they extended their swords. Lennox swung first. Cailean blocked the blow and nearly lost his grip on Triumph. Bloody hell, he was strong. Lennox wielded his sword with a strength Cailean had encountered only twice. Once, with champion Bruce MacLeod, and second with Val Ross. Cailean blocked a jab, then pivoted when Lennox lunged. Cailean intended to whack him across the arse when he stumbled past, but Lennox whirled and brought his sword down in a bone-jarring swing that caused the steel to sing so loudly Cailean’s ears rang. The man was damned fast—almost as fast as Cailean. Cailean saw a small opening and sliced a hole in Lennox’s plaid at his waist, then leapt back out of sword reach.

Lennox yanked his gaze down onto his plaid and poked a finger through the hole. He lifted a brow and looked at Cailean. “This is my favorite plaid.”

Cailean grinned and Lennox whipped his sword through the air. Cailean parried left, then right, forcing Lennox back. Satisfaction shot through him. He had the man on the run. Lennox’s sword jabbed and Cailean deflected the sword, but heard the rip of fabric. Lennox stepped back and Cailean looked down to see a long rip in his plaid over his left thigh.

“I know a maid who will repair that for ye—for a price,” Lennox said.

“I think you should pay for it,” Cailean said.

“Then you plan to pay for the tear in my plaid?”

“Loser pays,” Cailean said.

A cool smile played across Lennox’s face. “Linda has a voracious appetite and her favorite dish is cock.”

Cailean burst out laughing. Then he attacked. Lennox countered his blows, forcing Cailean to grip his sword with two hands. They lunged and dipped until the clang and screech of their striking blades filled the clearing. A small crowd gathered to watch. Cailean quickly realized they were too well matched. Lennox seemed to read his every move and Cailean almost felt one with Lennox’s moves.

Sweat trickled into Cailean’s eyes. He glimpsed a rise on the ground behind Lennox. A buried rock, perhaps. He drove Lennox backwards and just as Lennox reached the rock, jabbed so that he was forced to leap back. The heel of his boot caught on the rock and he fell on his arse. Cailean lunged, caught Lennox’s sword at the hilt and wrenched it from his grasp. The sword hit the ground with a thud and Cailean dropped onto his arse beside Lennox.

The crowd cheered as he flopped onto his back, breathing hard. Cailean closed his eyes and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. The roar of the crowd subsided, as did the ache in his arm.

“Get up, Cailean,” Lennox said. “Or did I tire you out?”

Cailean cracked an eye. “I believe I won.”

“Ye got lucky. I tripped.”

Lennox was right. He extended a hand to Cailean. Cailean clasped his arm and pushed to his feet, noting that Lennox had recovered his sword. Half a dozen men slapped them on the backs and congratulated them on a good fight. The crowd dispersed and they remained alone with Gregory. Lennox headed toward Heatheredge with Cailean alongside and Gregory fell in with them.

“That’s a damned fine sword,” Cailean said.

Lennox gave him a sidelong glance.

Cailean laughed. “You’re one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever fought.”

“I suppose that is a compliment,” Lennox said.

“It is.”

“I suppose I should be glad you were no’ fighting on Crowe’s side the night you saved Julianna,” Lennox said.

Crowe. Cailean recalled Julianna’s mention of Crowe the morning he’d awoken inHaven Cottage. “Who is this Crowe?”

“He is Clan Mackay’s Ceann-Cath.”

“Ah.” Cailean gave a slow nod. “Clan War Commander. You said he wants to marry Julianna.” They’d also said he was doing something wrong.