Highland Sparks (Clan Grant #5) (14 page)

Chapter Twenty

Logan left Gwyneth with her brother and headed toward the tavern in Glasgow, in need of some libations. Hellfire, he hated this task. Aye, he wanted to make her stronger, but he hated to upset her. He hadn’t realized how she would react when he taunted her today.

He left his horse at the stables and was walking over to the tavern when he heard his name bellowed from his left. He turned to see his brother, Micheil, galloping toward him.

“Micheil, what’s wrong?” He instantly feared the worst. “Mother is fine? The bairns? Wee Bethia?”

Micheil waved his hand before he dismounted. “All are fine. Quade and Brenna should be home with Mother by now. The messenger from the Grants told me you would be in Glasgow, so I decided to track you down though I’ve been searching for hours. Besides, I’ve been home long enough. Now that the battle with the Norse has ended, I just had to get away and decided to search you out. What brought you here?”

Logan wanted to dodge the question, but his brother knew him too well to fall for such a tactic. “An assignment.” He held open the tavern door and they stepped inside, locating a table and ordering two ales.

“How could you have received an assignment in the Highlands? According to Quade, you chased after a girl. I could hardly believe it.”

“I left because a foolish lass I met was intent on killing someone. So I followed her to Glasgow, talked to my steward, who gave me a different assignment, and I have been busy completing my orders.” Logan wasn’t about to tell Micheil that the lass was his assignment…or offer up the truth of how much Gwyneth meant to him. While both his brothers knew he worked for the Scottish Crown, no one else was aware of his duties. And he never shared any specific information about his assignments. By keeping everything secretive, he didn’t get asked too many questions. He liked it better that way.

“Who is this spitfire lass?” Micheil asked, a grin bursting out on his face. “I can see she’s eating you up inside.”

“Curse it, how could you know that?” He was usually much better at hiding his feelings. “Aye, I am focused on two different tasks at present. One is the lass I followed here, Gwyneth. The other is my assignment. I’m training her to improve her skills as an archer.”

“A lass as an archer? I’d like to see that. You will allow me along on a training session?”

“Nay, but the fair will be in town and I plan to have her compete in the archery contest there. You can watch her win it. And as long as you’re here, I have someone I want you to monitor when I’m with Gwyneth. I wish to make sure he’s still in town.” He wouldn’t be able to follow Erskine if he was training Gwyneth. Micheil was someone he could trust to get the job done.

“Sure, no problem. Give me the details later. I want to hear about the female archer. You think she has a chance to win? She is that good?”

“Aye, she is. Her brother and uncle have trained her for years. The lass watched a blackguard kill her brother and father, so she seeks retribution. Working with her has been a challenge.”

Micheil smirked. “I look forward to meeting the lass. She sounds perfect for you.”

A lass brought their ales over, setting them down on the table. “Can I get you something to eat?” she asked with a bright smile.

Micheil turned to her, a wide smile spreading across his face as he checked her over from head to toe. “I can think of many things you could bring me to eat, sweet one, but we’ll settle for two trenchers of stew, if you have it.”

She giggled and blushed before running off to get their food.

Logan gave his brother an exasperated look. “Do you never stop?”

“What?” The smile left Micheil’s face. “Just having a wee bit of fun with the lass. Besides, she liked it. Did you not hear her laugh?”

Logan’s face darkened. “I’m warning you now. I know you enjoy the lassies, brother, but don’t think of throwing your sweet talk at Gwyneth.”

“So you do want her. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.” A grin spread across Micheil’s face as he stared at his brother.

“Just stay away from her.” Logan’s gaze narrowed as he saw the sheer look of delight dance across his brother’s features. Hellfire, this was not going to be easy.

***

A few days later, Gwyneth sat at the breakfast table with Rab. It was the first day of the fair and she was excited to finally be able to see all the exhibits and contests. Logan had suggested she enter the archery contest, and she had agreed. She stuffed her mouth with porridge as fast as she could.

“Gwyneth, are you sure you wish to do this?” Rab asked.

“Aye. Logan says it will be good practice for me. He is sure there will be some spectators who will harass me because I am a woman in a man’s contest.”

“Perhaps they will not allow you to enter.”

“Logan already checked the rules. It says naught about being a man. It just says ‘the archer.’” She ate another spoonful of her breakfast.

“Probably because they don’t expect any female archers. They could change their minds.”

“They can’t, he says. They can change the rules for next year, but they have to let me shoot. I plan to win.” Gwyneth could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of beating men in front of an audience.

“Gwyneth, I need to speak to you about something else that is important to me.”

Her spoon clattered on the table. “Rab, I don’t like the expression on your face. What is it?”

“I know you won’t like what I have to say, but I need to say it.”

Gwyneth had no idea what her brother had in mind, but the look on his face pained her.

“‘Tis about the way you dress.”

She frowned. “What?”

“I would like you to dress differently for the fair.” He shifted his gaze to his food after he made his statement.

Gwyneth glanced at the leggings she wore, the tunic pulled tight over her torso to allow free movement when shooting. “But why? I have always dressed this way. It helps me shoot better. I can’t have clothing come in the way of my draw. Da never cared.”

“Aye, because Da never knew where to find any skirts for you. Wearing Gordon’s clothing was easier. You will be in front of everyone when you shoot, and most will stand behind you. Gwyneth, ‘tis unseemly now that you are older.”

“My skin is completely covered, Rab.” Gwyneth fought the fury that threatened to break out of her, but she would not yell at Rab. Never at Rab. She couldn’t understand what had brought this on so suddenly. “I never show my cleavage like some women. I bind myself to hide them.” She turned her head from her brother to hide her blush.

“When you were wee, it didn’t matter. You are a grown woman now. You need to act like one.”

Gwyneth stood up, shocked that her brother felt this way. “What? This is who I am, brother, and I think you know that. Why now?”

Father Rab stood, taking a linen square from his pocket and mopping his brow. “Gwyneth, you don’t understand. You are too naïve.”

“Nay, I am not. I am choosing to live my life the way I want, not the way everyone else wants me to live.”

Rab pressed both hands on the table and locked gazes with her. “You can’t. You need to stop.”

Aghast at her brother’s outburst, Gwyneth had naught to say. She didn’t know how to respond to him. He was asking her to change who she was. “But I am different, Rab, and you know it.”

“I know you are, but do you realize how much attention you draw with the way you dress? Have you ever watched the men stare at you? ‘Tis wrong. Please dress in skirts if you choose to make such a public display.”

Gwyneth just stared at her brother as he blinked and mopped his eyes with his linen square before shoving it in his pocket.

Gwyneth walked over and wrapped her arms around her brother. “Rab, I’m sorry to put you through so much.”

Rab had his breathing under control again. “Please, for me.”

“I don’t own any skirts. I could never find one in time for the contest.”

“You must know someone who would be happy to lend you clothes.”

She turned away from him and moved back to the other side of the table. The two of them just stared at each other for a long moment. She couldn’t believe what he was asking of her, and she also couldn’t believe she was thinking of denying him. She had never denied Rab anything.

She stood back and gathered her gear, ready to leave for the fair. “But ‘twould not be me in those skirts, Rab.”

She waited for him to speak, hoping he would rethink his stance. The young priest finally nodded his head, apparently accepting that he would not deter her.

“Then today, when you compete against the men in the archery contest, I want you to beat them.”

Gwyneth kissed his cheek again before she headed for the door. “I will do that, just for you, Rab.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Logan met Gwyneth at her brother’s Kirk to escort her to the fair. As they made their way around the booths and wares at the fair, Logan kept an eye out for the blackguard Erskine, just to be safe. Micheil had discovered he lived in a castle on the other side of town and had updated Logan last night, so Duff could show up anytime.

“Did you come to the fair often, Gwyneth?” Logan wanted to know more of her childhood, search out the good memories she held.

“Aye. Da always brought us here to eat, especially for the hog roast. Rab and I liked to search out the wares.”

“And what are your favorite booths?”

“Rab loves the woodworkers. They carve such intricate designs. But I have always liked the weavers. Basket weaving is my favorite. Of course, you know I enjoy the blacksmith and the weapon booths, but Rab always tried to steer me away from them.” She let out a long sigh. “Poor Rab tried to be a good brother and always brought me to look at the ribbons and the jewels, but they never held my interest. Sometimes, we did buy cloth.”

“What about the minstrels?”

“I love to watch the weans follow the minstrels, and there are always some storytellers I love to listen to, but I liked the competitions the best. I loved the jousting and Rab hates it.”

“So you must be looking forward to the archery contest.”

Her face lit up. “Aye, I think I could win it. What do you think?”

He glanced into her bright eyes, unable to stop from returning her smile. “Agreed. You have an excellent chance to win.”

“And do you wish to challenge me again, Ramsay?”

Logan grinned. “Nay. I need to watch your technique. I have only one goal right now, and that is to build your skills as an archer. I would rather cheer you on.”

They made their way to the tent where she would need to sign up for the competition. When they finally found themselves at the head of the line, the man in charge handed Logan a piece of cloth with a number. “Competition starts in three hours. Wear this.”

Logan handed it to Gwyneth, who pinned it to her tunic. The man stared at her. “What are you doing?”

“You said I had to wear the number on my tunic.” Gwyneth tossed her plait back and put her hand on her hip.

“Nay, no’ you. The one competing wears it.” The man shook his head, as if he could not believe her foolishness, then took the number from her hand and returned it to Logan.

She reached over and took it back. “And I am the one competing, not him.”

The man stared at her for a moment before speaking. “You’re a lass. No women in the contest. You can’t shoot.”

“Aye, I can, and I’ll beat you any day should you wish to challenge me.” The man did not respond to her jibe and his jaw went slack as he returned her stare.

Logan decided he needed to get involved before there was trouble. “She’s the one competing and she is a better archer than I am. Let her participate.”

“But it says no women.”

“Nay, it doesn’t. And you can’t change the rules today. The competition starts in a few hours.” Logan crossed his arms in front of him, daring the fool to argue with him.

The man quickly scanned the rules and scowled. “You’re right. It does no’ say.”

“Then she shoots. We’ll be back later.” Logan grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind him, not wanting to give the lout the chance to come up with another excuse to deny her. He pulled her up beside him. “Come, walk with me. I wish to buy you a gift.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.” He tugged her down between the various booths selling ribbons, scarves, roasted chickens, and pastries. The woman he loved required a very special gift, he knew, not a ribbon or something to wear. When he finally reached the booth he had in mind, he put his arm around her waist and said, “Choose your favorite. I would like to purchase one for you.”

Gwyneth’s eyes widened as she perused all the goods displayed in the booth. He could tell by the look on her face there were more daggers and knives here than she had ever seen before. There were dark handles and ivory; simple designs and elaborate ones. Some were long, others were meant to be hidden in boots or clothing. She finally chose a small dagger with an ivory handle engraved with a bear. She rubbed her fingers down the smooth material, smiling.

“Many thanks, Logan. ‘Tis beautiful.” She brought her gaze to his and all he wanted to do was go somewhere private and make love to her.

Logan chose a few more and had them wrapped in a package. Once he paid for them, he turned to Gwyneth and handed her gift to her. “Use it wisely.”

A loud voice shouting his name interrupted their conversation. Before he could register the intrusion, Micheil stood beside him, running his gaze up and down Gwyneth’s body.

Logan scowled and hissed at his brother. “Enough.”

Grinning, Micheil brought his gaze up to Gwyneth’s. “A pleasure to meet you. I am Logan’s brother, Micheil.” He held his hand out and took hers, whispering, “You look mighty fine in your leggings.”

Logan grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Gwyneth, giving him a little shove. “I’ll ask you to treat the lass kindly.”

“Och, I would love to treat her kindly,” his brother replied with a chuckle.

Gwyneth’s confused expression only fueled Logan’s fury. “Leave off, Micheil. Take your sweet charm elsewhere.”

Micheil laughed and finally conceded. “Fine, I won’t bother her. My lady, I can’t wait to see you compete in the archery contest. I wish you well.” He kissed the back of her hand and walked out of Logan’s reach, his eyes twinkling all the while.

***

Gwyneth stood inside the archery area, awaiting her next turn. Logan stood not far away, his brother at his side. Thus far, she had beaten each of her opponents in the first three rounds, and the number of players in the competition was dwindling. Logan had been wonderful, supporting her whenever she shot. His discreet encouragement told her how much he believed in her, serving her very well.

All of a sudden, the man she was supposed to shoot against next demanded the attention of one of the judges. “This is illegal. My next opponent is a lass. I can’t compete with her.” He threw his arms up in the air as if he was being asked to do the impossible.

Gwyneth’s eyes narrowed in on the lout causing the scene. She was about to speak up, but she noticed Logan was holding his palm out flat to her, asking her to stay out of the discussion.

She clamped her mouth shut, but she didn’t understand why the man was so upset. None of the last three contestants had complained about her. As she awaited a decision, she overheard some of the observers outside the fence. They were heckling her opponent. “What’s the problem, Glenn? Afraid the girl is going to beat you?”

“Och, won’t that be a story to tell. Beaten by a skinny lass.”

“Let her shoot. Are you that worried she’ll win?”

She glanced at Logan for support as they waited. He beckoned her over to him, so she made her way over to the fence and leaned into him. “You’ve done great. Do you hear them getting in his head? They’ll have him so upset that he’ll be an easy win. But eventually, they will start working on you, too. You have to be strong. Some men have fun watching you, but not too many of them want a lass to win this contest. My guess is that most will be happy to see you win until the final round. Then they’ll root for the man. All the Scots in the land will talk of you if you win. That will upset many archers. Be strong.”

She nodded and stepped away as the verdict was finally announced. Glenn had lost his case.

“‘Tis naught in the rules this year that says you have to be a lad to shoot,” the judges announced. “So the lass shoots. We’ll fix it for next year.”

Glenn argued for a while, but no one paid him any heed.

The judge finally sent her to the target. “Your turn, lass.”

Gwyneth squelched her grin and took her shot. As soon as she let the arrow fly, she knew she had made her mark. Direct hit, and the crowd went wild. Glenn shook his head. They had to make three shots each to win the round.

Gwyneth beat Glenn easily and the crowd started to cheer her name. Glenn hung his head and stalked off the field.

She turned in time to see her brother arrive. He made his way over to Logan and nodded to her. This time she was determined make Rab proud, even though she hadn’t changed into skirts as he’d asked. He was a priest, so he was bound to forgive her. She won the next two rounds, which put her in the final round. Her competitor was young and strong. He nodded to her and took his first shot, hitting near to center.

Gwyneth settled into her stance and was about to let her arrow loose when an unknown voice shouted out.

“Don’t worry about her, Finley,” he shouted to her opponent. “She can’t hit the side of a stable, can you, lass?”

Gwyneth glanced at Logan and he nodded his head in encouragement. She set her stance and just as she let her arrow fly, the lad shouted, “Loser.”

Some of the spectators booed him for his poor timing, but it didn’t matter. She had missed the target and Finley had bested her in the first round. He took his second shot and it landed almost perfect.

Remembering her lessons with Logan, Gwyneth took her time before releasing her second bolt, managing to block out all the voices around her, even Logan’s. When her arrow landed, the crowd roared. She won the second shot.

Finley made his third shot and it was good. Gwyneth readied herself for her final effort, and the heckler started in on her again.

“Finley, no worries, she can’t handle the pressure. She always falls apart. You aren’t really worried about a lass, are you? She’s weak and foolish. No problem, no worries. She doesn’t have what it takes to be a man.”

Gwyneth dug deep to ignore him. She glanced over and caught Logan’s gaze, soaking in strength.
He
believed in her, even if no one else did. Rab and Micheil stood next to him, their expressions hopeful.

She notched her arrow and aimed. This time she would wait for the heckler to yell something out and channel her fury at him into her arrow, just as Logan had taught her. She waited and waited, and sure enough, his mouth started.

“What, are you afraid, wee bairn?”

She let her arrow fly and hit the target dead center. The crowd erupted and Finley ran over to the target to check it for himself. She knew she had won.

Rab rushed in and pulled her into a hug as the crowd chanted her name. Logan sauntered over to her with a smug expression on his face. When Rab let her go, Logan patted her back, a bit leery of getting too close to her with Rab by her side.

He gazed at her and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Well done, lass. I knew you had it in you all along.”

She pulled back and stared at him. “Good, now can we go after Erskine?”

“Nay, not until night. I don’t want witnesses to our deed.”

Gwyneth was ready to scream, but she knew he was right. For now, she would bask in the fact that she had just beat seven men, with several witnesses.

She grinned from ear to ear. Tonight would be soon enough to chase Duff Erskine. Today was a day of glory. How she wished her father was there to see it.