A Highlander's Home (7 page)

             
Leith
slapped Robbie on the shoulder, the sound of bare skin sending a loud clapping echo.  Robbie glanced at his older
brother and motioned to the dark-
haired boy peeking through the legs of one of the men. 

“The boy deserves a good whipping.” 

Leith noticed the small smile that
played on
Robbie
’s lips
. 

             
“Aye, he does.” 
Leith
looked sideways at him.  “Perhaps you tell his mother.”

At that, Robbie
’s
entire face f
rom his scalp to the bottom of his neck turned a
deep
shade of red.  He frowned at
Leith
and fairly growled.  “I’ll do no such thing.”

             
Leith
leaned closer so only Robbie could hear.  “She willna know your intentions if you do not tell her.” 

             
Robbie looked at the boy again who had run to his mother.  She gave him her basket of vegetables to carry as she wiped her brow.  She ruffled the
boy’s
hair and he gleamed up at her. 

“Och, I’ll do no such thing!” 

But he couldn’t help and steal another glance at the lovely woman with hair almost as red as his own.  Her husband had been buried less than a year ago.  He shook his head.  No finer woman in all of
Scotland
was there.  He sighed. 

             
Turning to Leith,
he looked him square in the eye,
and then
punched him straight in the gut. 
Leith
grunted and stumbled only slightly as the air whooshed from his body.  He landed a right hook on the side of Robbie’s jaw.  The two ended up on the ground, rolling over each other while doing their best to land a punch or two.

             
Finally
Leith
had Robbie pinned to the ground.  Both men were breathing heavily and covered in dirt, mud, and grass.  As Leith sat upon Robbie, he grinned.

“Did ye really think ye
could best me,
brother?  Ye
know I always win.”

             
“If y
e
weren’t so bloody oversized, y
e
might be a little easier to knock down,” Robbie snapped.  He spit out a piece of grass.

             
Leith
laughed.  “
When
I am old and gray, we will still be tumbling around on the ground and I shall beat you with my walking stick.”

             
“Och, and I shall trip
ye
with my cane and laugh as ye fall on yer scrawny arse.” 
Robbie’s smile was ear to ear as he proudly predicted the future event.

             
The two walked over to the fighting ring and began sparri
ng with each other.  Armed with wooden swords, they lunged, retreated, twisted, and turned in mock warfare.

             
That was when
Leith
saw her. 

             
Raine, with her golden hair tied in a single braid down her back, walked straight towards them.

             
Robbie, seeing the path of
Leith
’s gaze, decided to take advantage of the moment.  He pulled back his fist.  It landed square on
Leith
’s jaw. 
Leith
landed flat on his back.

             
Leith
blinked.  Then gingerly rubbed his face.  Robbie’s face came into view, hovering over him as he lay sprawled.  “That’ll teach ye, old mon.” 

             
He laughed heartily and helped the other up.

             
Raine had one thought on her mind today.  She had to prove who she was.  What she was. 
What she was not.
And that was a bubble headed woman.  She would prove her independence and perhaps win back some of her lost dignity from the previous night.  Just thinking about his lips on hers had her legs slightly quivering.  She quickened her pace and shook her head.

             
He would
not
get to her.  She would show him she was just as much a man as he was.

             
Before her father had died, he had taught her some of his boxing moves from his former glory days in the military.  He had always gone easy on her since she was just a little girl.  But Raine had never forgotten those times when it was just him and her together, closing out the world.  She practiced whenever she had the chance and had earned his approval for her increased skills
.
His theory was to teach her how to defend herself
against a harsh world
.  Hers was to earn his praise and respect.  And she had.

             
Every eye was on her as she stopped outside the wooden gate of the ring.  She propped a foot
on it and said nonchalantly, “G
ood morning
, gentlemen
.”

             
Leith
could not take his eyes off of her.  She was wearing the men’s bre
e
ches that he had first seen her in. 
Her
strong
thighs were outlined as was her
very round, very lovely,
derriere
.  He was not the only man staring at her lower half
,
and he did not like that.

             
“My lady, you should be in the keep, not here amongst the dealing of men
,
” he
said bluntly. 
That should put her in her place.

             
She shrugged.  “I want to watch.”  She glanced around.  “That is alright, isn’t it?”  She blinked innocently.

             
He took a step towards her.  She tried to think faster.  “I mean, I am your guest.  I was just curious as to what all of you men were doing.”

             
Leith
narrowed his eyes until they were mere blue slits.  She was up to something.  He had thought that after last night, she would appreciate the fact of being his wife more than she had.  A thought struck him. 

             
He sighed d
ramatically. “Lady, certainly ye
cannot mean to say that the sight of men practicing warfare is more interesting than carrying on the women’s tasks of the keep?  Why, there is cooking to be done, shirts to mend, floors to sweep.  Surely t
hat is where ye’
r
e
interests lie, not here where the men are actually working.”

             
He was goading her.  She knew it.  Two can play at that game.

             
She slowly walked over to a long stick that had been smoothed down.  It was roughly five feet long and lightweight.  She knew how to use this.  Her father had taught her how to play fight with it.

             
“Well,” she said loftily, “I just thought that perhaps I could offer some advice.  I mean, after all, it seems you could use all the help you can get.  Even if it is from a
woman.
”  She fairly ground out the word.

             
A few of the men let out a breath and took a step back, averting their gazes.  She had practically declared war on him.

             
She was
challeng
ing him
.  “I doubt a…
woman
…has anything of value to contribute to the art of fighting.”  He met her gaze and said in a steely voice, “Women were not meant for war, but for rearing children, comforting their men and running his household.  That is where she belongs.”  He thought briefly of his mother.  “
That
is where she is safe.” 

             
She watched him.  There was a reason he thought what he did, but she would not lose her independence just because he said so.  She had to make a stand now.  If she did not find those stones and return to her time, she would be forced to marry this giant.  And if that happened, she did not was to spend her time knitting.

             
Picking up the stick, she twirled it between her hands, smiling as it made a whooshing sound as it sliced through the air. 

“
Perhaps
I could just show you.”  She looked over her shoulder at him and fluttered her lashes.  “My lord,” she purred.

             
He was not fooled.  She was full of vinegar, this one.  For all her smiles and innocence, he could hear how her words dripped with cynicism.  He smiled back at her.  How bad could it be?  He, a skilled warrior, would let her
, a woman who was half his size and probably could not even make a fist,
have her fun and then send her back to the keep with her tail tucked firmly between her legs.  He lowered his gaze.  Legs that were much to
o
tantalizing to be wrapped in men’s breaches for all to see.

             
He nodded to her.  “As ye
wish, my lady.”

             
She was not sure what she had gotten herself into but one thing was for sure – she was standing her ground and proving that she was a force to be reckoned with.  If nothing else, perhaps she would wear out her welcome and his ridiculous idea of marriage, he would make it his priority to take her to the stones and get rid of her.  She watched him and tried to gage how to best him.  His eyes seemed to stray to her legs.  She smiled.

             
Swishing her hips more than necessary, she
practically pranced towards him.  It was the advantage she was looking for.  As his gaze followed her thighs, she raised her stick nonchalantly as if to pass him,
and then
brought it striking down across his abdomen. 

             
The entire circle of men heard
the
harsh vibration of air as it was forced out of Leith’s lungs.  Only Robbie was smiling.

             
Leith
stood tall as the pain left his middle and inhaled deeply.  The wench wanted to play.  She was miffed about last night.  Upset not because he kissed her, oh no,
but
because she liked it.  He ground his teeth. 

This was war.

             
He turned and followed her as she pranced to the other side of the ring.  When he was close enough, she turned to look at him.  She was not expecting him to actually do anything so it was all the more pleasurable to see the look of surprise as she fell flat on her behind when he knocked her off her feet in one fail swoop of his stick.

             
She glared at the laughing men as she dusted herself off.  The two continued the cat and mouse game, each besting the other here or there, flashing a smug grin to the other.  She couldn’t help but notice how nicely the sun reflected off his chest as he moved.  She also noticed that his clear blue gaze never left her.  Maybe she only noticed that because her gaze never left him.

             
She was standing her ground but not truly besting him.  If she walked away without proving herself, he would continue to treat her as
a subservient female.  That was unacceptable. 

             
She had to take him by surprise and move in for the kill.

             
She stopped
circling
the ring.  Standing completely still, she watched him, moving only her eyes to keep him in her sights.  Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly.

             
As he gripped his stick, he had the distinct feeling that this lass’s mind was focusing on one thing – how to knock him off of his feet in front of all of his men.  He could not allow that.  He would not hurt her, maybe a bruise or two on her luscious behind to remind her that he was the laird here.

             
The two faced each other.  Raine’s braid had come loose and the slight breeze lifted the golden strands and deposited them over her shoulder where they wrapped tantalizingly around her breasts.
 
The
effect was not lost on
Leith
.  Despite his determination to teach her a lesson, he merely stood and watched as this golden chit of a woman sprinted toward him.  She threw her stick to the side at the last minute and slammed her body full force into him. 

             
A boney shoulder met a rock hard abdomen.  Both grunted as they tumbled and rolled through the dirt. 
Leith
would have landed on top of her, but a quick knee to the groin had him rolling to the side.  As she sat on top of him, both breathing heavy, she smiled.  She knew she had not done permanent damage, just enough to gain the upper hand so she was the one looking down on him this time.