“I would prefer to beat ye at something akin to the stone toss than fancy footwork,” Darach replied with a chuckle.
Miles met his gaze. “I will be competing in archery, next. Ye?”
“Hammer throw.”
The men went in separate directions, Miles accepting pats on the back as he walked away to change into something more suitable for archery.”
When he returned to the stand, the next competition began. The guardsmen, broken into two teams, competed in tug-a-war.
Soon it was time for his second event and Darach pulled off his sash and handed it to Isobel, who took it. It was a public announcement of their courtship, and it was obvious she knew it by the way her cheeks colored as people began murmuring. He went behind the stands and unwrapped his plaid and then folded it and wrapped again, so it fell just above his knees. Once that was completed, he went to the field to find his place.
The entire time, he wanted to think Isobel watched only him. Like the sun on his back, he sensed her taking him in and being proud. He knew what having a woman’s admiration brought. He’d been there on the field plenty of times attempting to impress this lass or that one. However, this time it was different.
He didn’t care if he won, although that would hopefully impress her. What he wished for was for her to feel pride while watching him.
Unable to keep from it, he turned toward the stand figuring he’d not be able to see her expression clearly.
Isobel stood out from those around her, the color of her dress bringing out her beauty. Then to his amazement, she held up a handkerchief and waved it. Her gaze directly on him.
In that moment, his chest expanded, and he felt like the strongest man on the field. When his turn came, he turned in a circle and released the hammer with all his might, a roar exploding. From the sounds around him, Darach knew he’d won.
He couldn’t keep the wide grin of pride as he held both arms up.
Duncan came up to him and wrapped him in a bear hug. Then his brother lifted him off the ground and turned in a circle. The others joined in the melee, all of them shouting with exuberance.
By the time he went to the stands, he was exhausted, but happy. Since he was the laird, it was his mother’s job to give him the prize. However, she prodded Isobel, who made her way to him.
The lasses hurried over and handed her the sash and crest, which she placed over his shoulder. When she lifted to her toes to kiss his jaw, he turned his head and kissed her full on the lips.
Applause and cheers sounded, and in that moment Darach realized this was indeed the best day he’d ever experienced.
The drums signaled the beginning of the next competition, which would be a race between young lads. Darach took Isobel’s elbow and they went up to the stands to take their seats.
“Ye are making things so-so complicated,” Isobel whispered.
Darach arched a brow. “Or is it ye that complicates things?”
Chapter Eleven
Why was she fighting it so? Isobel had to admit enjoying the day, and even more, the way Darach paid so much attention to her. He ensured she, along with his mother, sister, and her family were attended to. They’d each been fed to within an inch of their lives. Her mother was half asleep, her eyes half-closed, her mouth slack.
Ella kept them informed of who was who, their names and where they were from, whenever the men lined up to compete. Isobel couldn’t remember a single name as her entire attention was captured with Darach’s movements, how he shifted in his seat, or how he greeted the winners. When he turned to speak to his mother, she wanted to touch his broad back. When he looked to her, it was hard not to stare at his lips or look deeper into his blue-green eyes.
Despite the warmth of the day, a shiver traveled through her when Darach’s shoulder brushed hers.
This was ridiculous. How could a man she knew would never be loyal to her, bring so many reactions? There had to be a way to guard her heart, because if she were to be honest, she was beginning to want to marry.
The public pronouncement he made through his attention to her in front of the entire clan was not something that could easily be undone.
She let out a shaky breath.
“Let us go change,” Lady Ross stood, her face bright with anticipation.
Darach helped his mother up and then turned to her and the rest of the women to his left. “You realize women have never competed in the games before, Mother.”
“From today on when our clan has a festival, they will.” Lady Ross gathered her skirts to pass her son. “Come along ladies. We are next.”
The women’s game turned out to be a huge success. The crowds laughed, clapped, and cheered, and at the end of it, Isobel’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Several times she’d caught Darach watching her as she hit the ball and then hiked up her skirts to dash around the stool. They’d not bothered to set rules, so men, as expected, stepped in to judge and give them rules along the way.
At the end of the day, she and the others, trudged back to the keep, utterly exhausted. The second day of the festival would be mostly archery and another tug of war, and Isobel looked forward to it.
“I preferred yer other dress,” Darach caught up with her. “Although I must admit, it would not have been the best choice for running about like a lad.”
Isobel gave him a droll look. “Lasses run too.”
“True.” He looked relaxed. The hours outdoors that day have given him a golden complexion. “Are ye disappointed that yer team did not win?”
Shaking her head, Isobel chuckled. “Not at all. I
