Highlander’s Dangerous Huntress (Highlands’ Deceptive Lovers #7)

Prologue

“Keep yer knees bent, lass, or ye will topple right over!” Laird Sinclair shouted from the shaded grassy top of the hill.

As always when she heard her father’s voice, she glanced his way, but the sun was in her eyes.

Distracted, she didn’t pull back before the flat of the wooden sword smacked her in her hip.

Immediately, the young boy dropped the sword and backed up. “Forgive me, I dinnae mean to hit ye.”

Confused, Jean bent down and picked up the sword to hand it back to him. “If I dinnae want to be hit, I wouldnae be sparring with ye. I shouldnae have taken my eyes off ye.”

The boy, Donald, glanced up warily to where Connor Sinclair was sitting.

Their laird was not alone. A few guards had gathered, and one of them was his own father.

He and his friends often sparred when the laird and his guards practiced.

They all wanted to be warriors when they grew up, to protect their laird and clan.

Jean had watched the boys spar for the past few years and decided that today, the day that she was finally ten, would be the day she would join them.

She didn’t bother asking her father for permission, so certain that he would say no.

She was going to ask her mother, but she couldn’t find her anywhere.

So she took the practice sword she’d been hiding in her room and marched down to the field where the boys played.

Some were younger. Most were older. A few of the girls lounged on the edge to watch, no doubt trying to pick out their future husbands.

Jean couldn’t quite understand why anyone would want to marry. As far as she could tell, men had all the fun while the women had to stay home. She wanted to be the one having all the fun.

“‘Tis not fun, darling,” her mother had said gently, brushing her long dark locks. “‘Tis hard work to see the clan safe.”

After growing up on the tales of her father’s battles and her mother’s heroic actions, Jean wanted a taste of that same glory.

With the alliance secured, it was a time of peace in the Highlands.

Jean didn’t want war.

She just wanted to help keep the peace.

And now that she was ten, she was old enough to learn how.

None of the boys had wanted to spar with her, but they’d goaded the smallest into fighting with her. They were matching in size although Jean knew that she was older.

“I think that is enough,” the boy said as he refused to pick up his sword again. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and the other boys, also glancing up on the hill, ran with him.

“Wait! I wasnae done!” Jean shouted, but it was no use. Soon, she was alone.

“Why are ye fighting?”

Turning, she squinted as a figure came down the hill. The dark haired lad was a few years older than her, tall and gangly. By his side was a short sword, a real one. At the sight of it, Jean’s big hazel eyes went wide.

She’d never seen him.

“Who are ye?” She demanded. “These are Sinclair lands. I havenae seen ye before.”

“Liam Armstrong. We ‘ave come to visit.”

Armstrong. They were part of the alliance.

Her mother and father spoke of Laird and Lady Armstrong often. They had said something about them visiting, although Jean hadn’t been paying much attention.

“Ye are Laird Armstong’s son.”

The boy nodded solemnly. “Aye. One day I will be laird too.”

Jean was disappointed. She was her father’s firstborn, but she would never be laird because she was a daughter and not a son. But she wanted to impress the laird-to-be, so she pointed the wooden sword at him. “I am going to be a warrior.”

“Women cannae be warriors.”

“Can too!” She brandished her sword. “I will show ye!”

Liam studied her for a moment, pulled out his real sword and placed it on the ground. Crossing to the field, he picked up the practice sword. “All right.”

Holding the sword over her head, she shrieked and attacked. Liam blocked her blow easily, but she remembered her father’s advice and kept her knees bent. This time, the blow didn’t knock her over.

“Keep the sword in front of ye, or ye will open yerself for an attack,” the boy advised. “Step when I step.”

Annoyed that he was giving her advice, she narrowed her eyes, but he seemed to have more training than her, so she did as he said. He nodded approvingly. “Good, now watch my arms. How they’re bent will tell you how I might attack.”

He struck with little more than a tap, and she blocked it. Delight coursed through her.

“Good. The block has me off balance, so now is the time to strike.”

Jean shrieked again and swung the sword. He knocked it out of her hands and grabbed her wrist. “Dinnae shout like that. I could hear the attack coming a mile away.”

She tugged her wrists out of his grip, but he just dropped his hand down to take hers. “I’ve never met a woman warrior,” he said thoughtfully. “Though my mother spars. I think if a woman marries a laird, she can become a warrior. I will marry ye, and you can become a warrior.”

“Marry me!” Jean repeated, outraged.

“Aye.” He bent forward and pressed his lips to hers. At first, Jean was too shocked to move. No one had ever kissed her before.

Then, she was annoyed. Here he was, her first kiss, and she didn’t even like him.

Quick as her father had taught her, she reached her arm around his neck.

He was taller than her, but she’d practiced with taller boys and was prepared.

Once her arm was secure around his neck, she swept out with her leg behind his knees and toppled him right to the ground.

He went down with a grunt and surprise in his green eyes. “Ye know how to fight.”

“Aye. And soon I will be just as good with my sword as I am with hand combat,” she boasted. “I will be a warrior, and I willnae marry a laird to do it.”

Liam grinned. “Help me up, and I will teach you how to sword fight.”

She did, and he proved to be a boy of his word.