There was no way Martin could win trying to match Lord James in terms of brute force. Fortunately, her husband seemed to have heeded her warning. Something in his stance changed after she cried out, and he took a few steps back, no longer hacking at the earl in a blind fury. For a moment, she could almost swear she saw a twinkle in his eye like the one he wore when he traded barbs with her on the day they first met.
Yes, you can do this, Martin. You’ve done it before. Just keep your wits about you.
Lord James advanced on Martin and swung with all his might, aiming to separate Martin’s head from his body. Isabella closed her eyes, unable to watch. The crowd gasped. Then, sheheard the clang of metal and dared to open them again. Martin was still alive, still fighting. Hope and pride surged through her each second that her husband fought back.
Martin was quicker than the earl, and he was using it to his advantage, making Lord James lumber about like a bear on its hind legs. And then Lord James roared like one as he swept down in a strike that aimed to cleave Martin in two.
Isabella shrank away, wanting to hide but unable to tear her gaze away from the awful scene before her.
“Missed again,” Martin quipped as he stepped aside, just out of reach. “Your aim is truly disgraceful.”
Oh, thank God he’s still in one piece!Isabella clutched at her chest as if she could slow the terrible pounding of her heart.
But what was Martin doing, goading the man? The last thing he needed was to make the earl angrier. But her husband just smiled as he circled.
“Shut up and fight, you miserable little gadfly.” Lord James attacked again with all his might.
“I like to talk while I fight,” Martin said lightly as he dodged and deflected a blow that should have sliced through his belly. “You don’t mind a bit of civilized conversation while we try to disembowel each other, do you?”
Isabella’s mouth dropped open. The man she had married had lost his mind.
Lord James’s only response was a low grumble and another forceful strike that missed at the last second, thank God!
“Is that all you have to say?” Her husband parried the earl’s heavy blows one after another. “I see. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to carry the conversation myself.”
Martin ducked beneath the earl’s next blow and slashed out with his blade, missing flesh but slashing a hole in the earl’s sleeve.
Isabella clenched her fists and gasped. A hit! Did she dare hope? Did Martin stand a chance against Lord James after all?
“I’m sorry to ruin such a fine garment. It looks like it was quite costly. Is that real gold embroidery on the sleeve or just straw?” Martin buzzed around the big man like a wasp looking for an opening to sting.
The earl roared as he struck back with a low, sweeping slash aimed at Martin’s knees. Her husband had to jump to avoid losing half his leg. Isabella stopped breathing. For a moment, he was unsteady as he landed, but he recovered quickly and stepped back. Relief flooded her at his narrow escape.
“Straw embroidery is nothing to be ashamed of, you know. I’ve seen some truly stunning garments embroidered with straw to look like gold. It glints in the sunlight so beautifully.”
“God’s wounds, do you never shut up?” Lord James yelled as he slashed again, this time slicing at Martin’s arm.
Isabella covered her mouth as a line of blood bloomed in the fine linen of her husband’s shirt sleeve. Too close! And the earl had drawn first blood. That didn’t bode well. Isabella felt the sting as if the sword had cut her own flesh.
Martin hissed through his teeth as he dodged another blow aimed at his neck. “Nice try, my lord, but I’ve had worse pinpricks from my tailor.”
A few of the men watching chuckled, and Isabella put her hand over her mouth to hold back a horrified guffaw.
“I’m going to carve out your tongue, you imbecile.” Lord James was not amused, and he glared at his subjects, defying them to laugh again.
“Ah, but to do that, you’d have to catch me.”
Isabella’s heart was ready to pound out of her chest as Lord James feinted and slashed down Martin’s chest, leaving a long, shallow wound.
“No,” she cried out as blood darkened the green of her husband’s cotte to black.
This couldn’t happen. There had to be some way to stop this madness before Lord James chopped Martin into pieces. She’d only just found the joy of love, and she had no intention of losing it so soon.
“You see? It’s me she cries out for,” Martin said, chancing a moment’s glance at her before returning to his adversary. In that moment of connection, she tried to convey all the feeling she’d failed to express—all the tenderness and affection that she’d hardly dared to speak of. “She’s chosen me. I’ve won her heart.”
At his words, Isabella’s heart swelled. He had won her heart indeed. Now, if only he could survive!
Martin suddenly began to attack with such swift blows, Lord James could hardly keep up and was forced to stagger back.
