Page 5
Story: Kilted Hate
“Aye, but it’s hardly an army,” Domhnall noted. “And besides, they’re out here in full view. It doesnae mak’ any sense.”
“What are we going tae dae?” Kai asked.
“We’re going tae ask them what the devil they’re doing here,” Domhnall said, standing fully erect and running out into the soldier’s path with his sword held high.
“Halt,” the lead soldier shouted, shocked at the sight of Domhnall and his brothers.
“Who are ye? What are ye doing here?” Domhnall demanded.
“We are here…”
But as the soldier continued, Domhnall could hear a woman’s voice behind him.
“…just get to this castle and be done with this travel. How much farther can we possibly be?”
While Kai and Magnus continued to question the soldiers, Domhnall stepped past the first few horses, searching for where the voice was coming from. He came to a sudden halt when he saw a woman sitting side saddle, and a few things flew through his mind in that moment.
This has tae be the English woman. Our lasses dinnae ride side-saddle.
My god, she’s stunning.
This is me future bride?
Glaring down at him, she said, “Have you never seen a woman on a horse before?”
“Nae quite the meek, mild-mannered lass ye were expecting, is she?” Kai whispered into his ear with a huge smirk.
“Ye have travelled far, me lady,” Domhnall began. “Welcome tae the Isle o’ Skye. I am?—”
“I am here to see the laird. Now, I beg ye, let us by.”
Clearly, given his present appearance, she didn’t realize who he was, and in truth, he couldn’t blame her. He was in a bit of a state.
“I am?—”
“Do you not understand English?” she asked. “I am?—”
But suddenly, her horse, trying to pull its hooves out of the deep mud, jerked forward, throwing the woman off its back. She landed in a muddy puddle, yelping in distress.
“Oh. Oh, my lord! Help me,” she cried, looking up at the soldiers who accompanied her.
But as each soldier clambered down from their horse, they too, got stuck and struggled to pull their feet from the thick muck to reach her.
“Perhaps the English need tae learn how tae navigate real terrain,” Domhnall said dryly.
This remark sent Magnus and Kai into peals of laughter, and the three stood chuckling for a minute. Lady de Beaumont, as he now knew she was, did not find his wit amusing in the slightest, and glaring up at him, she spat. “And perhaps the Scottish should learn some manners.”
Domhnall’s eyes flew wide at her fiery response. She certainly wasn’t what he had been expecting, and found himself both amused and intrigued by her behavior and boldness.
“Please, let me help ye.”
“I don’t need your help,” she hissed, pressing a gloved hand into the ground beside her to get her balance. Like the rest of her, her hand sunk deep into the soggy ground, eliciting a rather comical look of disgust.
“Please yersel’,” Domhnall chuckled.
Clearly, she was as stubborn as she was bold, and perhaps, given the circumstances, she felt she needed to assert her independence, what with being surrounded by so many men. Whatever her reasons, she was certainly not the woman he expected. Besides, what was she doing here? She hadn’t been due to arrive until the following day.
He sighed inwardly then, thinking about all the time and effort he had put into the arrangements he had made for her arrival. He had planned music, and entertainers, and the maids and servants were going to be lined up to welcome her. The preparations for the feast were all underway, and, he supposed, that could still happen. But he and his brothers would also have been dressed in attire fit to welcome a lady.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5 (Reading here)
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
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