Page 3 of The Cursed Highland Bride

Katherine frowned. “I ken that they are luchd siubhail and that ye believe them tae be o’ nae real consequence, but I must admit to feeling pity for the woman ye have chosen. If she is tae wed the Viking beast o’ Orkney, should she nae be given a choice? I have never laid eyes upon him myself, but his reputation is fierce. I will nae have another woman suffer for me. If the king wishes this torment on me, then I will do as the king wishes.”

“Ye need nae worry, Katherine. Ye will never have tae face any man ye dinnae wish tae. I will protect ye. The king asked too much when he pledged yer hand tae that brute. I will nae have my daughter sullied in such a manner. Ye are meant for a better man than he. The lass is willing tae take yer place,” he told the lie with ease, with her being none the wiser. If he was to get her to agree, he would have to make the deception true.

“Ye are certain she is willing?”

“Aye, I am,” he lied again, nodding.

“And I will be allowed tae wed whomever I choose?”

“Aye, ye will wed a man o’ noble birth and bearing, perhaps even o’ royal blood. I will arrange it myself.”

“A prince perhaps?” Katherine asked hopefully, the fear she had of having to wed the king’s choice finally leaving her eyes.

“Mayhap even a king.” He smiled down at her dotingly.

Alistair Morgan was a cruel man. He knew it and felt no shame for it. However, when it came to his daughter, he oozed sweetness. She was his one true love in life, and he doted on her every whim. When the king’s missive had arrived demanding that she be united in marriage to the Viking beast of Orkney, he had immediately put into action a plan to trick both the brute and the king. It had taken him six months to find a woman who looked enough like his daughter, but at long last, he was close to achieving his goal.

“What if the king discovers yer ploy?” Katherine fretted her lip between her teeth.

“By then, it will be tae late. The decoy and the Viking will have been wed before God and the law.”

“The king would be displeased.”

“Aye. He could punish us for the deception, but I have a plan in place tae ensure that he will never ken the truth o’ the matter.”

“How is that, Faither?”

He smiled ominously at the thought of his plan. “Ye leave that tae me.” He knew if he told her, she would never agree. For the Viking and the decoy would not live long enough for the truth to be told.

* * *

Katarina awoke to a splitting headache. Her head was pounding with pain to the point where she could feel her heartbeat pulsate in her eyeballs. Suddenly, she felt hands upon her person, grabbing and pulling at her. She could hear women crying all around her, and for a moment, she was confused. The memory of what had happened before she lost consciousness came flooding back all at once with such fierce vividness that she retched onto the stones beneath her cheek. A hard slap to the face jolted her fully awake.

“This is the one the laird wants?” a man’s voice questioned from above. She opened her eyes to find three men standing over her. “She is nae much tae look at in her present state.”

Katarina looked down at herself. She was covered in blood, her dress was rucked up around her hips, causing her to fear the worst. Did they… She could not bring herself to put the action into words, even in her mind. Hesitantly, she glanced under her skirt but did not see blood coming from between her legs. She had bruises on her limbs, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage there. Her head hurt worse than any other part of her body.

“Aye, she is the one. It is the eyes, ye ken.” The one called Hamish gestured toward her face. “They’re green like Lady Katherine’s.”

“Och, aye. I see it now.” The questioning soldier nodded in agreement. “Who is tae bathe her?”

“The laird is tae send one o’ the maids down. She will stay in the captain’s quarters.”

Nodding in agreement, the soldiers each grabbed one of Katarina’s arms and hoisted her up onto her feet. She was too stunned to speak, but she could hear her sisters crying out in protest behind her. She was dragged down a long stone corridor until they reached a solid wooden door at the end. One of the soldiers pounded on it with his fist, and it gave way to reveal a sturdy woman of middle age.

“Och, what have ye done tae the poor lass?” the woman asked, bustling forward to take Katarina into her ample arms.

“Calm down, Agnes,” Hamish ordered, his tone brusque but not without warmth for the older woman. “It is the laird’s wishes that we be carryin’ out.”

The older woman looked Katarina up and down in sympathy. Sighing, she shook her head in disapproval. “Help me get her in the bath. I cannae say I approve o’ his lairdship’s choice, but it is nae my place tae say.”

“It is nae,” Hamish agreed. “Send for me when she is done.” He and the other soldier hauled Katarina over to a chair near the tub that had been placed by the hearth, and then they left the room.

The woman named Agnes clucked her tongue in disapproval as she removed Katarina’s clothing. Her skin was covered in bruises and abrasions but nothing fatal. She would live if the head wound did not kill her first. Once Katarina was naked, Agnes inspected the wound on her head. “There was nae cause for such violence tae a young lass such as yerself.”

Katarina silently agreed with the woman but said nothing. She had yet to find her voice in the haze of fear, panic, pain, and what appeared to be a severe concussion, if the world spinning around her was any indication. Agnes, having finished her examination, lifted her into the tub. Unexpectedly, the woman was as strong as an ox. Drawing a pitcher of warm water from the tub, she poured it over Katarina’s head. The water stung the wounds on her scalp but felt good otherwise. After everything that she had endured, the warm water offered some solace to her aching body.

“Now that’s better, is it nae?” Agnes asked as she took a handful of soap and began to gently wash Katarina’s hair. “We will have ye looking bonnie in nae time at all.”