Page 73 of The Cursed Highland Bride

Katarina laid her cheek upon his shoulder, smiling contentedly. “I am glad that ye are well. I was concerned for yer wound.”

“It is nae but a wee scratch,” Dunn brushed it off. “Shall we?” he asked, extending her his arm.

“We shall.” Katarina accepted his arm, and they walked up onto the raised dais to address the gathering crowd.

The castle steward banged his staff on the stone floor three times, and the room stilled. “As ye all ken, I was commanded by the crown tae wed the Lady Katherine Morgan, daughter o’ Alistair Morgan.” At the mention of Alistair Morgan, a few people hissed in rejection of the name. Dunn raised a hand to silence them. “I went tae the Morgan stronghold and wed the lass that was presented tae me as the Lady Katherine.” At this, people started eyeing Katarina uncomfortably.

Seeing this, Katarina stepped forward. “I am not Lady Katherine Morgan. My name is Katarina Buckland. I am a daughter of the Romani.” A rustling of discomfort went through the assembled crowd, and Dunn stepped forward to wrap his arm around Katarina’s waist in reassurance. “Alistair Morgan and his men killed my parents and grandparents, raped and murdered my mother before my very eyes, then took me and my sisters prisoner. He forced me to lie and say that I was his daughter so that I could marry Dunn in Lady Katherine’s place. If I did not do as he demanded, my sisters would be raped and killed just as my mother had been.”

Gasps and cries of outrage passed among the group. Tears welled up in Katarina’s eyes at the retelling of it. Dunn kissed the top of her head and continued for her. “My wife went tae save her sisters and in so doing was taken prisoner once again in an attempt tae save Bran, our clansman’s life. Instead, he gave his life tae save hers. His brother Andrew remained behind tae allow our taking of Alistair Morgan back tae Orkney tae answer for his crimes.”

An outcry of what should befall Alistair Morgan swept through the crowd. “Kill him!” was the most popular sentiment.

Dunn raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent once more. “I have sent a messenger tae the king with a list o’ Morgan’s crimes. He will answer for them, one way or another, but we must allow the crown tae make this right. We cannae risk taking matters intae our own hands when the price is so high.” A murmur of understanding went through the group as they remembered the cost of past conflicts with the crown. “We will do as the crown instructs, but there is one thing that I will nae allow the crown tae take from me. That is my wife.”

“Never!” A cry went up from his men standing guard in the back. They had been there at the battle and already knew the truth. They had proven that they would stand beside their lady, no matter the consequences.

“Never,” Dunn murmured, looking lovingly into Katarina’s eyes. He turned his gaze back to the crowd. “It is tae that end that I wish tae wed my bride for the second time, this time kenning full well who and what she is, o’ my own free will and o’ hers.”

A cheer went up from the people, and Katarina smiled. Tears sprang to her eyes once more, this time from joy. Tor grinned at her and raised his cup of ale. “Tae the Lady Katarina!”

“Tae the Lady Katarina!” the crowd repeated with fervor.

“Priest, I believe that ye have a job tae do,” Dunn instructed with bravado.

The priest smiled and stepped forward. “Repeat after me, my laird.”

Dunn grinned and turned to face Katarina. “I, Laird Dunn Leòideach take thee, Katarina Buckland, tae be my wedded wife, tae have and tae hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, tae love and tae cherish, till death do us part, according tae God's holy ordinance, and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

Katarina smiled as her eyes filled with happy tears.

“My lady, if ye will repeat after me,” the priest asked.

Katarina nodded her consent.

The priest smiled.

Katarina turned to Dunn and repeated the words with her whole heart. “I, Katarina Buckland, take thee, Laird Dunn Leòideach, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

Tor stepped forward with a small knife. Dunn extended his arm. Tor used the blade to make a small cut on his brother’s wrist, then took Katarina’s arm and did the same. He placed their hands so that the cuts would blend the blood betwixt them, then took a piece of fabric and tied their hands together. Dunn looked deep into Katarina’s eyes as he spoke the final words of his vow to her. “Ye are blood o’ my blood and bone o’ my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit till our life shall be done.”

Katarina’s heart raced in her chest at hearing his words, and she did her best to repeat them word for word. “You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit till our life shall be done.”

Grinning, Dunn took her into his arms and kissed her soundly. A cheer went up from the gathered crowd, and the hall exploded into sound and song. Food was brought out in celebration of the union and set on the tables. Dunn unbound their hands, kissing the small cut on her wrist, then led Katarina around to their seats. They sat together, fingers entwined, as they enjoyed their wedding feast with family and friends. Katarina’s sisters sat beside her while Dunn’s family sat beside him. The only thing that was missing for both of them was their parents.

As if he could read her thoughts, Dunn gave her hand a squeeze and leaned over to speak in her ear. “They are with us in spirit.”

Katarina smiled a teary smile of reassurance and gratitude. “Always,” she whispered back, then kissed him softly on the lips.

“That is how long I will love ye, ye ken,” he promised, his eyes holding hers in earnest.

“And I you,” she promised back before kissing him again, this time with the promise of forever.

EPILOGUE

Orkney Islands, Scotland, A fortnight later

Dunn stood upon the battlements and read the recently-arrived letter from the king. It had been a fortnight since their capture of Alistair Morgan. It had taken that long for his messenger to return with the king’s command. The letter began with blessings on Dunn’s recent marriage. The letter then moved to express sorrow over the deception that they had both been victims of.