Page 2 of Betrayed by His Highland Wife

Pushing her ginger curls from her eyes, Nora removed the rabbit's fur, then cleaned the knife diligently. It needed attending to before the nightfall. There was a tremendous mess in the study, and the light was already failing.

"So, come on then, lassie, are ye done?" asked her father, as Nora worked with the knife.

Uncertainly, Nora nodded, the candlelight picking out the delicate pink of her cheek. Carefully, she pressed the rabbit toward him, as if presenting him with some valuable prize.

The laird took it, then snapped. "Ha! A mess. Ye'll have to do better than that, lass. Sorcha!"

He clicked his fingers, and Sorcha took the rabbit entrails and mess without speaking before leaving the room. Then, the laird fixed Nora with an unwavering smile.

"Dinnae fash, wee lassie. I am going to teach ye, but ye've got a lot to learn."

Shakily, Nora nodded.

"Aye, Father," she said. But her mind was reeling; her father had been overly concerned about her doings of late, and she was wondering why. Worse still, he had called her into his cabinet study for a "wee chat." This alone inspired fear in Nora. Would she be sent away?

Taking the lead for the first time ever, Nora cleared her throat.

"Da," she said uncertainly. "Didnae I please ye? I did my best."

Her father turned straight to her. His stark look scared her. At six foot six, Laird Douglas was the tallest man in the Highlands, at least according to himself. His bearlike frame intimidated many a foe, as well as his daughter and staff.

"Is this yer best, lass?" barked her father fiercely. He held the unfortunate rabbit up high. It drooped miserably. It was gruesome, but the violence of his voice was what unnerved her. This was the voice that launched armies into battles. Intimidated, Nora changed track.

"I-I mean, I am sorry, Da," she said hurriedly. "I will learn."

It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, the only thing to do. Any perceived slight sent her father into a senseless rage.

"Aye, aye, ye will, lass," said Douglas, finally backing down.

He straightened up, moving his thick, angry head away from her. Her father always seemed to look angry, even when he wasn't. Perhaps his face was just made that way. Everything from the bulbous nose to the whiskey-induced thread veins made it so. And in his eyes, the bloodshot was more prominent than their actual color.

"An' dinnae fash," he added, calming down as he sat back into his mahogany chair. The fire crackled, adding further to his red face. "Let's just ye an' me have a wee chat, eh lassie?"

He smiled stiffly, causing Nora instant panic. His rages were one thing, but being nice was something new. Uncertainly, she perched on the mahogany chair as her father poured a glass of ale.

"Now then, lassie, as ye'll be coming of age, there's a few wee things we need to discuss!"

At the mention "of age," Nora's perfect eyebrows rounded. Seeing her face, her father laughed.

"Och, dinnae fash, lassie. Nae for a good few years yet. Nay, I mean in the future. However, it is still time to make an arrangement."

"An arrangement?" Nora's young heart skipped a beat.

At last. It was here. Her father was about to make nuptials for her.

"Aye, lassie. A betrothal. For ye an' for yer clan."

The laird beamed, as Nora was all agog.

"An' I was thinking o' the Duncan clan!"

Nora's eyes widened.

"The Duncans? But ye... Da, nay, I cannae!"

But her father just waved her down.

"I ken. We hate them. They are our sworn enemy."