Page 69 of The Cursed Highland Bride

“Stop crying, daughter. Now is nae the time,” her father scolded her.

Dunn nudged the sword against his skin, and Morgan immediately turned his attention back to the danger at hand. “Ye should speak more sweetly tae yer daughter, as she may be the only person left in this world that cares enough for ye tae nae want ye dead.”

“I will nae take advice from a man who was nae cunning enough tae ascertain that his wife was a gypsy whore and nae a noble lady. I trained her well.” Morgan laughed in Dunn’s face.

Enraged, Dunn moved the sword away, stepped forward, and punched him right in the face. Morgan fell backwards, stumbling back against the bed. Gathering his footing, Morgan launched his body back at Dunn and collided with his shoulder into Dunn’s abdomen. All of the air rushed out of Dunn’s lungs, and he dropped his sword. The metal blade rattled to the floor, the hilt rolling away toward the far wall. Dunn bent to retrieve it, but Morgan brought his head up and smashed it into Dunn’s chin, jarring his teeth and rattling his skull. Staggering backward, Dunn narrowly avoided falling into the fireplace.

Ignoring the pain in his jaw, Dunn pushed himself away from the crackling fire and launched himself back at Morgan. They grappled, wrestling, punching, and biting their way around the room. For a brief moment, Morgan took the advantage and caused Dunn to lose his footing by bringing his knee up into his groin. Seething in agony, he fell back against the open window. His head hung out of the stone opening, and he saw the men on the battlements not far below. He could hear the sounds of battle and knew that his brother was out there fighting for his own life.

“Die,” Morgan growled as he launched his body into Dunn’s, and they both fell out of the window and down to the wood and stone battlements below. The sounds of splintering wood cracked above the sounds of battle as a piece of the flooring gave way and crashed down to the courtyard below. Dunn lay groaning on his back. He felt as if every part of his body had been beaten and broken. Morgan lay half hanging through a hole in the wooden floor, holding onto the stones of the battlements for dear life.

Rolling over, Dunn stood to his feet and reached down to haul Morgan up from where he dangled precariously close to falling. “Ye will nae die this way, and if ye do, it will be by my hand.” He shook him until he heard his teeth rattle before he dropped him back down at his feet. Lacking his sword, he pulled his dirk and pointed its tip hovering a hair’s breadth from Morgan’s eyeball. “Where is my wife?”

“Please, dinnae harm my faither,” the Lady Katherine’s voice echoed across the courtyard as she called out to Dunn from the window above. The men upon the battlements stopped to stare at what was unfolding before them. “I ken that he has hurt ye and yer wife, but I beg o’ ye for my sake and that o’ our people, dinnae harm him.”

“And why should I grant such a plea? Many good men and women have died by this foul beast’s hand. He has slaughtered entire families, including that o’ my wife. Why should I let him continue in this world?”

“Because ye are the better man,” she replied simply, her tone genuine. “If ye must take yer revenge, then take me.”

Dunn looked up to see if she was playing with him, but what he saw there made his heart ache. The lass who looked so very much like his own dear wife stood bravely, tears streaming down her cheeks, his sword in her hands holding the blade to her own throat. “My lady,” he raised a hand to stop her. “Dinnae do this.”

“Katherine,” Morgan gasped in disbelief.

“Tell him the truth, Faither. Tell him where his wife is.”

Morgan’s eyes turned to Dunn in fury. “Do ye see what ye have done?”

“I have nae done this. Ye have brought this upon yerself. How much and who ye lose this day is entirely because o’ ye,” Dunn reminded him. “It is ye that have brought us both intae this.”

Morgan looked back at his daughter. “Ye would nae be so foolish as tae take yer own life. Ye ken what that would mean.”

“My life, Faither, is in yer hands and yers alone.”

Dunn admired her bravery, but the last thing that he wanted was for a young, innocent girl to die. Had it been for any other reason than to find his wife, he would have walked away and left them both their lives. As it was, he could not. “Where is my wife?” Dunn yapped, taking Morgan up by the hair and pressing the blade to his throat so hard that blood ran down his neck onto his shirt.

“Please,” the Lady Katherine sobbed behind him.

Dunn refused to turn around. He would not allow anyone to weaken his resolve to find Katarina. He would pay any price, do anything to get her back. For the first time in his life, he understood what his mother had felt upon the death of his father, and it scared him. He could no longer imagine living life without his wife. If Morgan was telling the truth and she was dead, he did not want to go on without her. He would not allow Morgan to go on living either. If Morgan was lying, Dunn would kill every last man in the stronghold to find her. He was not bloodthirsty by nature, but his fear for her was all-consuming.

“Tell me!” he shouted, his voice reverberating off of the stones. Morgan’s men moved toward Dunn, their swords raised. A few stood with nocked arrows, ready to let them fly at any moment should he move clear of their laird enough to get a shot off safely. Dunn pushed the blade into Morgan’s skin further. “Call off yer dogs,” he growled in instruction.

Morgan raised his hand to his men. “Dinnae come any closer!”

“My laird?” one of the men asked in question.

“Ye heard me!”

Each man took a step back to show that they were complying with their laird’s orders. “Tell yer men tae lay down their arms,” Dunn ordered.

“I will nae.”

“Tell them!”

“I will nae allow ye tae do this. I will nae allow ye tae take what ye wish then have ye slit my throat. My men are the only thing that stands between ye and my daughter.”

“And ye are the only thing that stands between me and my wife. Tell me where she is!”

Morgan turned his face up to his daughter standing in the window, and Dunn saw something shift in his eyes. “I will see ye rot in hell before I tell ye anything.”