He favored her with a smile, the one that could melt a frozen river, the one her heart could not ignore. "And that vow of chast.i.ty you coerced from me?"

She grinned. "I will try to forget it, my laird."

"Truly?"

"Aye."

He pulled her close and kissed her brow, her nose, her eyelids. "Ah, Gwenyth. Dare I hope you will become my true wife soon?"

She pulled away, just enough so she could look into his eyes. He would fight to rid the world of a bully, a man who would harm the weak. This husband that G.o.d had chosen for her had honored her in many ways. And now he would risk his life against a man who knew nothing of honor or loyalty.

"You needn't fight Leod to gain entrance to my chamber."

He looked startled but recovered quickly. "But I would gladly fight a hundred men for that privilege, did you but ask."

"Would you not fight at all, if I asked?"

"I wish I could grant that boon, love. But the differences between Leod and I must be put to rest. And my wife's honor and that of Leod's other victims must be avenged."

"Is there nothing I can say or do to persuade you against this folly?"

The gleam in his eyes was unmistakable, and she felt herself blush. He pulled her against him. "Aye, la.s.s. You are temptation itself."

"Then let me tempt you," she whispered, her voice unnaturally husky.

"Adam, lad." They parted hastily as Morogh strode into the tent, forcing reality back with resounding finality. "Has she convinced ye not to fight?"

"No. I will meet Leod on the field. Now give us a moment," Adam growled.

Morogh groaned but wisely retreated to stand by the doorway.

ADAM RESENTED the intrusion almost as much as he resented Gwenyth's questionable avowals of affection. Was it all just a means to change his mind, or did she truly care? He pulled Gwenyth close again and quietly asked, "You were supposed to convince me not to fight?"

"Did I not succeed?" Her voice was light, despite the worry clearly evident on her face.

He raised her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I will want to finish what we started here, my lady."

"Then see you stay in one piece, my laird."

"No protests? No begging?"

She held his gaze with gentle affection. "Leod must be stopped. I know 'tis selfish of me, but I am tired of living in fear of him. Of living in fear that all I hold dear will be taken from me, again. Please, promise you will keep Daron close-by."

All I hold dear. Adam smiled, knowing now without a doubt that she would be waiting for him. "I will. 'Tis supposed to be a gentleman's fight, buta""

"I don't trust Leod, either. He knows nothing of fealty."

Adam embraced her, pulled her soft body close, and lost himself in her sweetness. He didn't know if those emotions could be improved upon, but he wanted a lifetime with this woman to find out. If he survived this encounter with Leod, he vowed once again to court this woman as she deserved to be, to teach her all the ways of love. To entice her to come to him freely.

"Lady Gwenyth, send the boy out here."

Adam grinned down at her, rolling his eyes and mouthing the word "boy" in mock exasperation.

"There is no boy in this tent, Morogh," she challenged, then raised on tiptoe to whisper, "Only an honorable man." With a kiss to his cheek, she pulled away from him.

At this moment, Adam felt the full force of dread. The day he'd known must come was here. He held no illusions that Leod would keep the contest friendly. Would Adam die just as he found hope of winning Gwenyth's heart? Or would the promise of her love give him the strength he needed to accomplish his task?

He took Gwenyth's hand and led her to the tent's exit. Stepping through, he said to Morogh, "Come then. 'Tis time."

With Gwenyth's arm tucked safely in his own, Adam walked toward the agreed-upon area. He handed her to Morogh. "Keep her safe."

Reluctantly he put her out of his thoughts and concentrated on the task ahead. Because it was to be a friendly display of swordsmanship and not a fight as such, none of Adam's men would join him to protect the weaker arm.

Leod stood some twenty feet away, his sword at the ready. Adam donned his leather hauberka"the same one, now skillfully repaired, that had no doubt saved his arm the last time he'd fought. But unlike that last fight, Adam's mind was clear, his body strong. He gave thanks to G.o.d for bringing him safely to this day, and asked for his blessing. Thy will be done.

Adam took his sword from the lad who held it, then carefully unsheathed it. 'Twas a fine weapon, shorter and lighter than the claymore, but deadly nonetheless.

Caressing the hilt, he hefted the sword, reminding his brain and muscles of the differences in fighting style required for this weapon. He swiped the air, warming his body for the exertion to come.

Leod was smiling and jesting with the crowd. For a moment, Adam considered that perhaps the man meant no harm after all. But that sixth sense, the one that could save one's life when in danger, warned him not to believe Leod's jovial behavior. Indeed, when the man finally turned to him, only darkness shone from his eyes.

And it was directed at Adam.

He allowed himself a quick search of the crowd. Gwenyth stood well back, Morogh close by her side. Morogh would not let her come to harm. Dragging his thoughts from such distraction, he looked to where Leod stood. If Leod did not prove himself loyal, Adam would kill him. Gwenyth's life and the future of his clan were at stake. He turned his full attention to Leod.

Leod circled and Adam followed, feinting and thrusting, in no hurry to clash. Adam recalled everything he could remember about Leod's fighting style. And reminded himself that, sport or not, Leod would test Adam's weak left side.

Indeed, the other man's first attack was a flurry of thrusts to Adam's left, which he managed to defend. Leod's surprised reaction was gratifying, and Adam allowed himself a moment to celebrate that small victory. They were well matched, always had been. Now they engaged in full, two-handed swings and arm-numbing blocks, and sweat rolled down Adam's face. As he'd antic.i.p.ated, Leod made repeated attacks to Adam's left, forcing him to use the arm over and over.

Fatigue set in, and Adam struggled to take the offensive and bring Leod's attack to the right. Leod smiled in silent acknowledgment and pressed harder.

Adam was thankful for the time spent swimming, for it had undoubtedly strengthened his whole body. But would it be enough?

Leod's blows came faster, and with sudden awareness, Adam saw that the other man had changed the rules of the game. No longer were they putting on a showa"Leod was fighting to win, just as Adam had known he would. The spectators must have noted the increase in intensity, for Adam heard Ian call a halt.

But neither Adam nor Leod complied, and no one was foolish enough to step close to the swinging blades.

GWENYTH WATCHED in mute, frightened fascination as the two men fought. Their display inspired awe, for both were skilled warriors. She thought Adam fought well, but as the skirmish continued, she feared she could discern a growing weakness in his left arm. Just as Seamus had once intensified his bout with Adam, Leod now did the same.

Gwenyth gasped. Ian Shaw was shouting at them to cease, but neither man would be first to put aside his weapon. Leod drove Adam back, and the crowd quickly dispersed to give room.

But she moved closer, aware now of Nathara just behind her and Morogh but a step away. A quick glance at his face showed that he, too, realized Leod's intent.

Adam recovered from the charge and slowly pushed Leod back. Grim determination shone from his face, and she knew he would not relent. And Leod seemed equally resolved to cut Adam down.

Fearful now, Gwenyth's heart raced.

A brave man tugged at Leod's sleeve, trying to deter him. Seeing it, Adam gave way, saying something she couldn't hear. But Leod shook his head, yanked his sleeve free, and lunged at Adam.

Adam lurched back, stumbling as he misstepped, and Leod moved in. Gwenyth stifled a scream. G.o.d, please protect him!

Adam regained his footing quickly, but not before Leod drew blood from Adam's thigh. Ian's continued shouts for them to cease echoed around them, but Leod snarled and continued the fight.

Out of the corner of her eye Gwenyth saw Daron at the edge of the crowd, sword drawn. Others had done the same, and Gwenyth feared more blood would be shed before this was through.

Without taking her gaze from Adam, she pleaded, "Morogh, do something."

"Naught to be done, la.s.s," he said in a resigned voice. "This has been coming since those two were lads."

"Well, one or both of them may not live past the day."

"Aye."

Please, G.o.d, let Adam live. With a jolt, Gwenyth recalled her fervent prayers for deliverance in Leod's hall. And how Adam had been the answer to those prayers. Yes, G.o.d had given her everything she'd prayed for and until today, she'd been too blind to see it.

Adam.

His face showed the strain, yet still he fought well. Leod, on the other hand, seemed to taunt his adversary and twice left himself wide open. Adam did not take advantage.

Gwenyth couldn't bear to watch but couldn't turn away. What would happen if Leod won? What if he killed Adam? The prospect of a world without Adam, and Leod still alive, didn't bear thinking.

As the men struggled on, Gwenyth remembered Adam smiling as he played and splashed in the loch, moon-blessed on the parapet, the honorable man who would move heaven and hades. . .

For her.

Be strong, my love.

Adam slipped on the now matted gra.s.s, caught himself before he fell, then feinted left. The quickness of the move must have caught Leod unaware, for Adam's next thrust sent Leod's sword sailing out of his hand to land several feet away.

Gwenyth sighed in relief. It was over.

Leod made a mocking bow, then scanned the trees on the hill behind the crowd.

Gwenyth wrenched her gaze from Adam, following Leod's stare, as did Nathara. Movement in the trees caught her eye, and she heard Nathara scream at the same time Morogh shouted, "Watch out, lad!"

Adam twisted in response to the warnings, and Nathara barged forward, shoving Gwenyth's tiny frame against her husband's mountain of a body. Her shawl slid from her shoulders as Adam grunted in pain. Surprised and confused, Gwenyth stepped back to a.s.sure herself that Adam was unharmed from the unknown danger Nathara had sensed.

Seeing Adam's pained expression, Gwenyth quickly dropped her gaze to where her plaid hung suspended from an arrow imbedded in Adam's arm. Her stomach lurched, but still she had the presence of mind to reach for the dirk strapped to his leg.

Gently she cut away the cloth to reveal Adam's left arm, pinned fast to the leather hauberk and useless.

Blood dripped to the ground and stained Adam's kilt while Morogh and several others raced into the woods in pursuit of the a.s.sa.s.sin. Nathara clung to Leod's back, pounding him with her fists and blistering the air with her rantings. He broke from her hold to run like the coward he was, but Seamus and Daron tackled him and brought him back, one on either side, to face Adam.

Gwenyth pressed her hand against Adam's back. "Come, my laird. Let me tend to your wound," she said.

"I'm not finished here, wife."

"Aye, you are," she said, somewhat desperately. "Let the others do what must be done."

He shook her off, rage and pain making his actions less than gentle. She nearly fell as she backed away from the enraged laird of Clan Chattan.

"Bring his sword and let him go," Adam ordered, pointing his own weapon at Daron.

"Nay, mya""

"Do it."

Adam stood his ground, his face contorted with rage and determination, and none dared gainsay him.

None save Daron, who now stood between the two, Leod's sword in hand.

Adam growled, "Give him the sword."

Daron glared at Leod as he said, "You've bested him, my laird. Leave the rest to me."

"I'm going to kill him." He turned to Seamus. "Break off the arrow."

Seamus moved to do his laird's bidding and Gwenyth ran to stop him, grabbing hold of the giant's arm and hanging fast like a dog with a disputed bone. "You must not. If you disturb it the bleeding may increase."

Adam shook his head as if to clear it. "You promised to accept me no matter how damaged, Gwenyth. Now go, and let me finish this."

The tenderness in his voice did nothing to allay her fear, but clearly he was determined. She fought tears as she did as he asked, flinching at Adam's grunt of pain when the arrow snapped in Seamus's hands.

Daron, still holding Leod's weapon, implored, "He doesn't deserve to die a warrior's death, Adam." He turned to Leod. "I'm of a mind to settle this myself. You've dishonored my kinswoman and paid an a.s.sa.s.sin to kill my laird."

Leod didn't deny either charge. Instead he smirked, seeming to defy Adam into finishing what would be a lost cause, wounded as he was. "Aye, Adam. How does it feel to know I had your lady before you? Or have you even bedded her?"

Adam roared and despite his wounds and pain, it took four men to hold him from advancing on Leod. Gwenyth held her breath, for clearly the effort had cost him. Pain etched his features, and still the blood seeped. Every instinct urged her to go to him and mend his wounds. But he'd made it clear he did not appreciate her interference, nor would she give him cause to resent her.

He must end this his way. She only prayed he would not insist on finishing the fight. He'd proven his mastery with the sword by disarming Leoda"the fight should have ended then, would have ended then if not for Leod's treachery.

Daron spoke the words that formed in her own mind. "You have bested him, Adam. His sword is here in my hand, and you still hold yours. The fight is won."

"I must avenge Gwenyth's honor."

Gwenyth stepped close. "Do not die to avenge me, my laird, I beg of you. I could not bear to live with your death on my conscience." And I cannot bear the thought of spending my life without you.

"I want him dead."

Daron nodded. "Aye, and he deserves it. But Leod has forfeited his right to die an honorable death."

Adam seemed to hear the words this time, and Gwenyth stepped forward to go to him. But Ian blocked her way. "Let the man be, my lady. He'll need your care soon enough. But not just yet."

Gwenyth bit her lip. Ian was right, but Adam's blood formed a puddle on the ground at his feet, and she feared his strength drained away with it. But the rage and determination never left his features despite his pain, despite her plea.

The crowd parted, and Morogh and two others hauled a man wearing a scabbard of arrows to stand before Adam.

"You," Daron shouted as he accosted the archer.