Page 1 of Betrayed by His Highland Wife

BETRAYED BY HIS HIGHLAND WIFE

PROLOGUE

Highlands, 1457

"Kill him?"

Nora Douglas's young eyes widened as she stared wildly at her father as he paced about his cabinet.

"Aye, lass..." Laird Douglas's eyes flashed, illuminating their bloodied edges. "Ye take yer man, hold him still, then slit his throat side to side, like so..."

Terrified, Nora watched as the laird lifted the startled rabbit aloft, severing its throat brutally. It expired with barely a squeak. Nora stared, nauseous, as the thick blood dripped over the desk.

Nora could barely watch. Not exactly squeamish, there was something in her father's face she did not trust. And his impromptu tutorial did not aid matters.

"Here, noo let's see ye gut him." Her father handed her back the rabbit, and Nora took it with shaking hands.

At thirteen, she was beginning to transform into the beautiful woman she would become. Her pale skin bathed in the gold light from the fire, illuminating the red in her hair. Every single thing about Nora was striking. Already, men turned their heads wherever she went. However, her father would gouge out the eyes of any man who dared to linger too long over her.

It was December, the fiercest month in the Highland calendar. The air was thick with snow, and ice pervaded every inch of Douglas Castle. Beneath her thick shawl, Nora shivered. She had been hunting all day because her father had demanded she capture a live rabbit. A strange request, especially this late in the season, and now she knew the reason for it.

Sort of.

As Nora took the still-warm corpse, her young mind swam.

Is he mad? It is possible.

The fact was, it was hard to tell. Either way, she had better take him seriously. The girl's emerald eyes pierced her father's searchingly. His florid face was fortified by the fire—and whiskey—as he watched her, amused, with his dram.

"Hurry up noo, lass. I said I wanted that wee bun for me tea." He grinned before handing her the knife.

Taking the bejeweled sgian dubh, Nora got to work. Pressing her head down, she began the consuming business of paring the rabbit. It took some time, in which she felt her father's hot breath upon her. She could smell him. Garlic and fish. The smelly air wafted around her, making her sick.

"Sometime today, what hoo, lass," he cried impatiently. "Och, there, Sorcha. Let's have a wee dram."

A gray lady who looked like a poker made flesh appeared to refresh both her and her father's goblet.

"Thank ye, lassie," said the laird, with a sideways glance at the older woman.

Only now did Nora look at her properly. She looked harassed even more than usual, which was saying something.

Sorcha was the Douglas clan lady-in-waiting, cum governess, cum head servant all rolled into one. Nora's father liked to think he was haughty, but in truth, he didn't really know what to do with a highborn woman like Sorcha.

"Och, lass, it's a muckle shame ye're nae wed. Ye'd make someone a braw wife!" the laird laughed.

Nora blushed. Her father was drunk. Perhaps that was why he was acting so strange. Sorcha said nothing but delivered one of her withering glances, which put even Laird Douglas in his place. Seeing her face, the laird guffawed.

"Och, I dinnae mean anything by it, hen. It's a compliment! Noo then, let's have a wee look."

Drunkenly, her father staggered over to where she was working with the knife. The commotion almost knocked the candelabra over.

"Och, sir," murmured Sorcha, steadying it quickly. She fixed Nora with a rueful smile. Even Sorcha felt sorry for her. Things must be bad.

"Hmm, hmm, nae bad, but ye've still got some fur on this side," said her father, inspecting her work. He held the rabbit aloft as bits of it bled out all over the floor. The tinge of blood filled the air.

"But ye've got a long way to go afore ye skin an' gut yer first man," he gruffed.

Nora looked up. He was joking. He must be. This was the sort of thing her father thought of as funny. Nora's deep green eyes watched his closely.