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“Among other, uncouth terms…” Graham muttered.
“I’m not grumpy,” I insisted, stubbornness making me unreasonable.
“I know one way to settle a difference of opinion,” Matthew interjected. He nodded toward the edge of the field, where several people were holding up what looked to be broomsticks. The sticks were used in the broadswords competition, as back in the day the Highlanders used these games as a training practice. Without weapons, they had made do with what was closest. In this case, long sticks made of ash wood simulated a sword.
Before I could protest that I wasn’t about to fight Sophie, she turned on me.
“I’m in. What say you, good sir? If I win, you must concede that you are, in fact, the grumpiest in all the land.”
“And if you lose?” When you lose, I corrected silently.
“Then I concede that you aren’t grumpy?” Sophie scrunched up her cute nose.
“That’s not good enough for me. You’re calling my character into question. When I win, I’ll accept a kiss.” Without waiting for her response and ignoring Graham’s low whistle, I strode onto the field with my hands in the air. Agnes met me at the other side, microphone in hand, a concerned look on her face.
“Is something wrong?” Agnes asked.
“We’re going to settle an argument in the broadswords competition. Between Sophie and me.” I bent over and picked up a stick, testing its weight, and ignored Agnes’s speculative look.
“Sophie,” Agnes said, and I didn’t turn to look as I tried out another stick. “Are you certain you want to do this? While it’s just play, it can still be quite vigorous, and accidents happen. He might get past you and bruise you.”
“I’d like to see him try,” Sophie all but purred. The challenge in her voice called to the ancestors in my blood, and I turned, a heated look in my eyes.
“I’ll not hold back,” I promised.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Sophie lifted her chin at me, refusing to back down. “It’s you who should be worried, not myself.”
“Och, that’s a good lass,” Agnes said, patting Sophie’s shoulder. “You’re exactly what Loren Brae needs.”
Before we could change our minds, Agnes brought the microphone to her lips. “Everyone. Listen up. Do we have a special event for you today. As many of you have heard, the Knight has arrived.”
A hush fell across the field as Agnes’s words filled the air. “And, because Lachlan wouldn’t be Lachlan without being as stubborn as he is…”
I glared at the back of Agnes’s head. Where, exactly, was she going with this?
“He has challenged our fair knight to a broadsword battle. It appears they have a difference of opinion to be settling. My money is on Sophie. Anyone else?”
As the cries went up around the field, everyone dropped what they were doing and drew closer, many chanting Sophie’s name.
“Because we’re a progressive country, I’m allowing the match between man and woman because, let’s be honest, it’s the weapon that levels the playing field, right?”
Cheers greeted her words, and then Agnes turned to me.
“The field’s yours.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled, settling on my stick. The smooth weight of it in my palm felt right, and I hefted it lightly in the air.
“That’s a good lad,” Graham said at my ear. “Prove to her that you’re not grumpy by pummeling her with a stick. Well done, you.”
“Oh, bugger off,” I muttered, striding onto the field, already berating myself for allowing this to happen. The people of the village drew close, shouting their encouragement to Sophie, and I hated that I was going to have to trounce her in front of everyone. Nevertheless, my pride refused to allow me to throw the match, but I would at least make sure not to hurt her.
When I reached the middle of the field, I rolled my shoulders, anticipation buzzing lightly through my body. I turned, my mouth dropping open.
Sophie had stripped off her loose jumper and wore only a fitted black tank top that hugged her body like a second skin. The same bright pink bra from the night before was easily visible, and her cleavage was a siren’s song for my gaze. It was the first time I’d fully seen Sophie’s body without baggy clothes covering it, and my mouth went dry. As promised from my brief glimpse the night before, her breasts were ample and inviting. A rounded stomach, a high bottom, and thick thighs led down to shapely large calves. Both muscular and soft, all in one, I realized, and I appreciated her confident swagger as she approached me. Sophie came to a stop in front of me, the stick in her hand, and bit at her bottom lip.
“Is this how I hold it?” Sophie asked, her wrist loose as she lifted the sword at an awkward angle.
“Keep your wrist straight,” I said, showing her how I held the stick so that the end of it rested against the inside of my wrist. Closing my hand around the stick, I turned it upward. “Then the sword will be an extension of your arm, and you’ll have more control.”
