Highlander Enchanted(46)

“Cade!” he boomed and stood from his position at the head of the laird’s table. “Ye came in this weather?”

“I didna wish t’offend ye with my tardiness,” Cade said, swallowing all semblance of pride to make it through their plan. “Yer messages were drenched when they reached me. Took my priest all day to read it.”

“I am honored ye thought to deliver yer response in person,” Duncan said with a smile. “Niall, Brian, ye are welcome. Come. Sit!” He motioned for several of the knights at his table to move.

Cade sat at his right while his cousins sat across from them. Duncan ordered them all wine and food, and slapped his hands on the tabletop.

“How fare yer kin?” he asked.

“Verra well, thanks to yer kindness.” Cade forced himself to say.

Duncan appeared pleased. “I hope my messages didna cause ye too much distress. I ‘ave no reason t’doubt yer fidelity, but I canna allow my enemies to take refuge in my own keep!”

At moments such as this, Cade wanted very much to let his inner unseillie out, to put Duncan in his place. The internal struggle lasted long enough for Niall to kick him under the table.

“We have sent them away already,” he lied smoothly.

“’ave ye? I thought ye fancied Laird MacDonald’s lass.” Despite the smile, Duncan’s gaze was sharp.

“I didna. My cousin did,” Cade said with a small smile at Niall. “Laird MacDonald willna survive long. He is old and weak. His healer couldna wake him when they left.”

“Ah. This is welcome news.” Duncan stuffed a fistful of bread into his mouth and motioned one of his guards over. “Visit my keep. Ensure my enemies are no longer housed there.”

Cade listened and began to eat.

“I doona mistrust ye, Cade,” Duncan said. “But I must be certain.”

“I understand,” Cade replied. “As long as ye doona object to us eating yer food while we wait.”

“Eat away!” Duncan said and slapped him hard on the back.

Brian and Niall, likewise hungry, were already bent over their trenchers and stuffing their mouths. Cade did so as well, confident in what Duncan’s men would see when they reached the keep. He waited until the edge of his hunger was gone before leaning back.

“About the English lass,” he started. “Can we discuss her in privacy?”

Duncan glanced at him. “Ye ken her?”

“We are hand-fasted.”

Duncan paused with a handful of food halfway to his mouth and lowered it, straightening. “Yer betrothed to the wench?”

“I am,” Cade proclaimed.

Duncan appeared to be trying not to smile. “Come. Let us talk.” He stood abruptly and walked away, wiping his hands on his clothing as he went.

Cade left his cousins and trailed the wide, stocky laird out of the Great Hall and to a nearby solar. It was quiet and warm – and they were not the only visitors present.

Cade uttered a silent curse at the sight of Lord Richard, who sat in English finery sipping wine. His head was bandaged.

Duncan paused in the doorway of the solar. “Ye see, we ‘ave a problem,” he said, thoroughly amused. “This English noble claims t’be hand-fasted t’her as well.” He entered and strode towards Richard.

With a sinking feeling, Cade followed.

“The lass is pretty but methinks one of ye was fooled by her,” Duncan said and sat near the fire. “How does one woman have two betrothed?”

Richard appeared startled. “You are mistaken, Laird Duncan. She has but one right and true betrothed.”

“Yea. ‘Tis so,” Cade agreed. “As yer loyal vassal, I would hope ye consider my claim before some Englishman.” He spat the last word.

“This Englishman has gold,” Richard replied coldly. “Last I heard, you had not a coin to your name.”

“I doona need coin when I can take it from someone like ye!” Cade snapped.

Richard rose, hand on the hilt of his sword. “You would challenge me? A noble with more gold and lands than you could dream of?”

“They are no’ yer lands and gold!”

Richard flushed.

“Quiet, lads. Yer host bids ye not to argue. Let us sit and decide who the English lass belongs to.” Duncan said and waved them towards their seats. His eyes sparkled with intrigue and amusement – and a shrewd edge Cade knew meant he was evaluating both of them.

Cade took his seat, wanting to give the appearance of obedience and fidelity. Once this night was over, he did not care what Duncan thought of him. But to rescue Isabel and claim her lands for his clan, he had to rein in his battle lust and temper.

“’Tis true Cade canna offer me gold,” Duncan mused. “’Tis also true I doona trust an Englishman. How can we resolve this without bloodshed?”

“’Tis customary, among men of honor, when challenged, to settle such a dispute with a duellum,” Richard replied. “We each choose a champion to fight, and each champion chooses one weapon. Whoever survives the duellum, wins Lady Isabel.”

“A duellum,” Duncan repeated, his eyes glowing. “Ye English ken how t’make a Highland heart sing. ’Twould provide entertainment fer my men during the tempests.”

“Or we ask her,” Cade suggested.