“Very well, then. If you won’t play chess, then you leave me no choice. I challenge you to single combat.”
“Good God, man, what are you thinking?” Lord Christopher asked, rushing to stand between him and Lord James.
All remaining patience drained out of Martin as he watched the earl rise slowly, grinning from ear to ear.
“He’s trying to steal my wife from me, and he’s threatened my life. I demand satisfaction.” Fury roiled within Martin as he looked at the man he detested. That blackguard wouldn’t get away with it. Martin was going to bring the earl down or die trying.
“There must be some mistake,” Lord Christopher said, placatingly. “Why would Lord James try to steal your wife?”
“I can’t help it that she prefers me to you,” Lord James said, rising and casting a long shadow in the torchlight. By God, the man was tall. He was like a walking castle turret. But Martin refused to be cowed. Isabella loved him, and nothing else mattered. He would face Goliath himself for her sake.
Lord Christopher blanched. “Don’t tell me it’s true. Lord James, why would you—?”
“I appreciate your concern, Christopher, but this is none of your affair.” The earl swept his vassal aside and drew his sword. It glinted in a shaft of daylight pouring in through one of the slender windows at the side of the hall.
“At least have the decency to take this outside, my lords,” Lord Christopher pleaded.
The earl stared down at Martin with utter disdain, and Martin’s sword hand twitched with the urge to teach the smug coxcomb a lesson he would never forget.
After a long moment, Lord James jerked his head toward the door, and Martin nodded.
Following his nemesis, they headed outdoors.
Together they stalked onto the pounded dirt, Lord James dispersing a few soldiers that had gathered to practice with a mere look.
“Wait! Stop!” Isabella ran out into the yard between them.
No!She shouldn’t be here. It was too dangerous. And the last thing Martin wanted was to have her be forced to watch them butcher each other. “Go back inside, Isabella. Please. This is going to get ugly.”
“You think I’m going to stand by and let my fate be decided by you two fools as you try to tear out each other’s throats like dogs in a pit?”
Before Martin could prevent it, the earl grabbed Isabella by the shoulder and dragged her out of the ring, shoving her toward the castle. “Listen to your husband, my lady. This is men’s business. I’ll call for you when I’ve dispatched him and it’s time for us to wed. Expect me within the hour.”
Blood pounded in Martin’s ears as he launched himself at Lord James in a blind rage. “Don’t youevertouch my wife again. I will tear you to pieces like a wild boar.”
Steel clashed as the earl blocked Martin’s blow as if he were swatting a fly. “You won’t be her husband much longer. It’s a shame you never went through with the wedding night. I assure you I don’t plan to deprive myself of the pleasure.”
No.That rutting beast could never be allowed near her. The mere thought of him—
Martin blundered toward his nemesis again, this time to be met with a bone-shattering counterblow that he just barely deflected, though he felt it all the way up his arm.
“Does that bother you? The thought of me tupping your wife? I promise to make her scream my name over and over as I take her hard and fast. I can hardly wait to make her bleed for me.”
Thank God Martin’s body remembered what to do because his mind was lost in a haze of pulsing red. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he struck again and again, only to be blocked at every turn.
“Don’t let him goad you,” a voice cried out that made his heart clench. Isabella was still here, watching this, hearing this. “Please, Martin, keep your wits about you. If you keep fighting like this, we’ll all lose.”
She was right. He was reacting on instinct alone, letting Lord James get the better of him and goad him into rage. He wished she would go back inside. She shouldn’t be subjected to this. But there was no arguing with her advice. He would surely lose if he didn’t clear his head, and there was far too much at stake for him to allow that.
Drawing in a deep breath, Martin steadied himself and studied his enemy as he circled. He’d beaten this man once before, and he could do it again. All he needed to do was use his head.
The dust of the yard filled his nostrils as his feet scuffed the ground and he tried to remember how he had won victory against Lord James the last time they fought. But all he could see was the image seared in his brain of the earl manhandling Isabella and shoving her toward the castle. If he didn’t clear his head soon, he was going to be in serious trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Isabella’s heart wasin her throat as Martin squared off with Lord James. The two looked so unevenly matched. She couldn’t imagine how Martin had defeated Lord James in tournament, but she prayed he could do it again. His life depended on it, as did her and her sister’s futures.
Men from around the bailey were starting to gather to watch the fight. She couldn’t blame them. It was riveting. No matter how much she wished she could turn away from the awful scene before her, she couldn’t do it. They had all come to watch her husband die. A low murmur arose as they began placing bets, not around who would win but around how long Martin would last before Lord James demolished him.
