Free The Wrong Highland Bridegroom: A Novella by Amanda Forester Page A

thigh.
    “Did he get him?” asked Effie.
    “Nay, they both missed the shields, so no points will be awarded,” said David.
    “But Malcolm struck Connor’s thigh. I saw it. Was it purposeful?” Effie asked.
    David shook his head. “Hard to say. Could be Malcolm is trying to gain an advantage by wounding him. Also could be ’tis hard to aim when riding on a horse and holding a heavy lance.”
    It could have been accidental, but Effie doubted it. Once again Connor had difficulty turning his beast and Effie shouted her advice and encouragement, not that it could be heard over the hundreds of others cheering around her.
    Malcolm turned and raced down the list, once again trying to force a forfeit.
    “Bastard!” Effie yelled at Malcolm. “Turn him, turn him,” she screamed at Connor.
    Connor stood in the stirrups again and pulled back. The horse reared, jumped, and spun.
    “Hurry, hurry,” screamed Effie. “He’s almost to the end.”
    Connor’s mount flew over the rail and Connor lowered his lance in midair, catching Malcolm squarely on his shield. The lance shattered and Malcolm flew from the saddle, landing on his backside, splat , in the mud.
    Effie shouted for joy even as the crowd erupted with cheers. “Stay on, stay on!” she screamed as Connor rocked from the impact and flew back on his mount.
    Connor struggled up, reined in his mount, turned in a circle, and then stopped, finally, in the middle of the field. Effie shouted for joy, her yells drowned out by the cheers of the crowd, including Isabelle and David, who were cheering as loudly as anyone.
    Stable hands surrounded the horse, managed to get Connor off the monster, and took the exhausted animal back to the stables. Connor removed his helm and raised a hand to the crowd as they cheered.
    “My friends,” shouted David in a booming voice. He was forced to repeat himself several times before the crowd quieted. “We have seen a spectacle the likes of which I doubt we shall ever see again. I hereby name winner of the joust and the winner of the Robin Hood challenge as Sir Connor Maclachlan!”
    The crowd cheered again and Connor waved and acknowledged their praise.
    “And now,” called David in a voice that left no doubt that he was laird of the Campbells, “let Sir Connor come forth to be presented with his prize.” David held the golden shield.
    Effie stood too. As Maid Marian, it was her honor to bestow the winner with a kiss.
    “Kiss, kiss, kiss,” the crowd began chanting.
    Effie smiled in anticipation. Although she disliked her one experience with kissing, she was more than willing to try it again.
    Unfortunately, she was not the only lass who had this sentiment. Several young ladies, including the two who had given him their tokens, ran up to him. One threw her arms around him. The other was even bolder and grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him on the lips. The crowd cheered again.
    Effie did not. She sat back down and smoothed her skirts. One of those attractive lasses would no doubt be the next Lady Maclachlan. A title she would never have.
    He walked forward to the stands, a rare smile on his face. He must have enjoyed his kisses. She looked away. Men were all alike, she supposed, though at least this one had the decency to tell her he had found another.
    A roar from the other side of the castle wall and the crowd quieted to hear what was happening.
    “The English!” shouted a sentry from the castle wall. “They are moving forward, maybe an attack!”
    The mood in the courtyard dropped as if a sudden ice storm had frozen the cheer on people’s lips. Men ran to the battlements; women ran inside the keep.
    “Take up yer positions, everyone!” shouted David.
    Effie nodded to her brother and grabbed Isabelle’s hand to help her into the castle. “Come, ladies; come, children!” she called and led the women and children into the relative safety of the keep. Her heart pounded. Was it to be war?
    Effie saw Isabelle inside