Page 7 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

He turned slowly.

“Let’s all just calm down. My lady, hae ye seen yer parents yet? I’m sure they would welcome yer return,” Donal said with a pained look on his face.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Prove it. I dinnae need a bow,” she said, although it caused her a great deal of pain to relinquish her bow, thrusting it into Donal’s hand. In return, she demanded the captain’s sword. Donal tilted his head to the side.

“Ach, I dinnae think that’s a good idea. Yer Da—”

“I demand yer sword, Donal. I will show this Grimhand what it is like tae face a Knox in battle,” Beitris said through gritted teeth, holding out her hand without taking her gaze away from Logan.

“I welcome it,” Logan said.

Donal sighed as he placed the sword in Beitris’ hand. Her fingers curled around the hilt.

“First tae send their opponent tae the ground wins,” Donal said, stepping back.

“Agreed,” Beitris said.

Logan was silent. Beiris wasted no time before she charged like a ferocious boar. A lesson she had learned a long time ago was that she had to make her strikes count as the enemy would likely overpower her. The longer the battle went on, the more her chances of success dwindled. She needed to strike hard, fast and show no mercy.

She lunged forward, her sword coming down in a narrow arc. All she wanted was to wipe the smirk from Logan’s face, to see him staring up at her, his arrogance swept away by the tide of her fury. He deserved to be on his knees and she was going to be the one to drive him there.

For a moment, just a moment, she believed she had him. It looked for all the world that he was turning his body away, cowering in fear. A smile crept upon her face as she thought about battering him to the ground when suddenly he turned and their swords met.

The impact sent reverberations thrumming up her arm. She might as well have struck the walls of the formidable Keep. The impact ran over her shoulders and back, sending her back a step, her heel slipping on the ground. She gritted her teeth and steeled herself, but he was the quickest man she had ever seen.

There was no time to think or adjust before his body twisted again, his feet shifting, his blade flashing in the air like a bolt of lightning that was fizzing towards her.

She cried out and brought her sword around, trying even though she knew she wouldn’t be swift enough. The flat of his blade struck her on the arm. Beitris wanted to prove herself to be stronger than him, but she could not stop herself from gasping with pain.

He then lunged forward, putting one hand on her shoulder, his fingers pressed against her collarbone. He thrust his leg between hers, his knee and upper thigh pressing against her groin.

For a moment they were as close as if they were dancing.

For a moment they were as close as lovers.

The world shifted as he swept her leg away and pushed her back. The sky rolled above her and then she crashed against the ground. His weight was upon her. His hand holding her down.

She felt his strength, his power, and for a moment something fluttered through her body, something she would later convince herself had been anger, although it was something else entirely.

Logan curled his lip as he returned to his feet. Beitris remained on the ground for a moment longer, having to take the time for a recovering breath. There was a deep ache in the core of her body that went beyond pain, but it was most decidedly caused by him.

“Consider it proven,” Logan said, sheathing his sword.

“Ach, lass, let me help ye up,” Donal said, taking her hand.

Then, someone else came sauntering up. He had a singsong melody to his voice. Beitris was in the process of brushing the mud off.

“I apologize for my friend. He had never learned how tae treat a lady properly. I’m Brody,” he said, holding out a hand.

Beitris stared at it. Her cheeks were still burning. She snatched her bow from Donal.

“Get him out of my sight,” she hissed.

Donal put his hand on Logan’s shoulder and guided him away, speaking low enough that Beitris could not hear his words. She ignored Brody’s hand.

“I hope ye will nae hang him for that,” Brody said.