Page 28 of The Cursed Highland Bride

His wife gave a noncommittal shrug. “It was a life o’ simple means.”

“I would think so. I cannae imagine ye in a nunnery.” His eyes raked over her body at the thought of all her beauty being concealed in such a manner. He had not seen her naked since their wedding night. To his surprise, he found that the thought distressed him. “Ye are too bonnie.”

“There are many bonnie nuns,” she noted with an amused smile. “Beauty or the lack thereof is nae a prerequisite o’ the vocation.”

Her way of speaking delighted him. She was intelligent, witty, and caring. It was difficult not to fall prey to her spell. “A beautiful woman should be bedded by a man, nae wedded tae God.”

“That is blasphemy, my laird,” she chastised. “Do ye claim tae be better for a woman than God?”

Smiling, Dunn leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Ye tell me.” A pink flush took over her face and neck. “Ye did nae complain about my being ungodly on our wedding night.”

At the mention of their wedding night, all color left her face, and she became unearthly pale. He had made the wrong choice bringing up that night. He had tainted it with his omission of the truth. Forevermore, she would believe him to have been unfaithful to her.

“I have nae need o’ a nunnery,” she murmured in answer.

“I should say nae,” Dunn attempted a jest, but it fell flat even to his own ears. They had been having such a pleasant time. He was angry at himself for ruining it. The fact that he cared made him angrier still.

They fell silent for a time as the maids brought platters fraught with food. They had clearly gone to extra effort on behalf of the king’s messenger who, as dictated by hospitality, would spend the night at the castle. Dunn would have told them not to bother, but he enjoyed allowing the clan the occasional indulgence, though their resources were limited. Let the crown ken that they have nae undone us with their reprisals. He looked at Katarina sitting beside him, beautiful even in her displeasure. Nor their choice o’ wife. Unable to stop himself, he reached across the table, and took her hand in his. In that moment, he would have done almost anything to bring the smile back to her face.

“Ye did well on the field this morn.”

She snorted in disbelief. “Ye flatter me, my laird. I could barely hold my sword, wooden as it was.”

“I have seen worse.”

“High praise indeed,” she laughed.

The tension in his shoulders eased at the sound. “Ye will improve.”

“It would take every morn for a year.”

“Then that is what we shall do.”

She raised her brow in question. “We?”

“Aye, we.” He nodded. “Tor is my master o’ arms, but I train the men too. I will do the same for ye.”

“I will never match yer skill.”

“It is the result o’ a lifetime o’ study and practice.”

“Forged in the heat o’ battle, I have been told.”

Dunn raised a brow at this. “My sister has been talking again.”

“She has,” Katarina admitted. “As have many o’ yer clanswomen. They praise ye at every turn. Yer people love and respect ye. They genuinely care for ye.”

“As I care for them. They are good people, hardworking and loyal.”

“I wish others held the same principles.”

Dunn did not know for certain of whom she spoke, but he had a suspicion that her father was one such person. “This life is hard. It makes men harder.”

“Some men are born that way.” There was a bitter edge to her voice that spoke of deep and abiding pain. “And we women are left tae their mercy.”

Dunn felt something stir inside of him. What could have caused her such pain? Her faither? Perhaps it is the loss of her maither that causes her tae speak with such depths o’ sorrow and anger. He was not certain that he had the right to ask. He himself avoided speaking of his own losses whenever possible. He did not feel it right to pry into another’s pain, and yet his heart reached out for hers in a need to console and to protect.

“I pray that ye dinnae count me among them.”