Prologue

Loch Naver, Scotland, 1511 A.D.

Katherine Morgan stood on the shores of Loch Naver, skipping stones across the water’s surface. She turned around to see her mother lying on a plaid in the summer sun, reading a book of poetry. The light glistened in her hair, forming a halo around her head. Katherine stared at her in awe. She was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Everyone said so. The child turned to look at her reflection in the calm water. She was remarkably similar to her mother, but she bore little, if any, resemblance to her father. Her hair was long and hazel brown, her eyes a bright emerald green. Her face was flawless, with perfectly proportioned petite features.

Hearing a sound from behind her, Katherine turned to look at her mother once more. She stood up and turned to smile at her daughter. The breeze floated her lavender scent to Katherine’s nose, and she smiled back. She found everything about her mother comforting, from the warm brown of her eyes to the lovely lavender aroma that enveloped her with every hug. Even though there was a slight sadness about her that Katherine had long sensed, an air of mystery. But her mother was strong in spirit and possessed a beautiful heart. To Katherine’s mind, she was perfect.

“I must return to where we left the horses to fetch our food. Dinnae go near the water, my love. I will be back soon,” her mother said. They had ridden from their castle in Strathnaver and tied their horses near where the River Naver enters Loch Naver. They had then proceeded on foot until they found the perfect spot for their outing together.

Katherine smiled and nodded, waving her little hand in confirmation that she had heard her words and would obey. She watched her mother disappear, then turned to skip another small stone across the water’s surface. She felt happy because she was getting better at it. It was not the first time her mother had left her to play alone while she disappeared for brief periods. Being a compliant child, Katherine had never followed her, but she always wondered where she went on her walks.

The little girl watched the small stones bouncing off before sinking into the water and was mesmerized by the sun’s rays dancing on the surface. She had instinctively closed her eyes at the bright light when she was suddenly pushed forward into the water and dragged under. Katherine felt a rough hand holding her head beneath the water’s surface as she struggled to free herself. But her tiny six-year-old body could not fight her way free of her attacker and could feel her lungs burning with the lack of air. For one brief moment, her head broke above the surface and she gulped in a mouthful of air. The scent of lavender oil filled her nostrils as the sound of her mother’s sobs fell upon her ears before her head was thrust once more beneath the water and she lost all consciousness. Her last thoughts were of her mother.

Why?

Chapter One

Strathnaver, Scotland, 1526 A.D.

The scent of lavender floated through the air, water filled her lungs, and darkness overtook her senses. Katherine sat straight up in bed, shivering, and cried out for her mother to stop. Tears were falling down her cheeks and she was struggling to breathe. “It is a dream, lass, nae more,” said the nun who emerged from the darkness with a candle and a quaich of tea. “I heard ye screaming in the night once more and thought ye might need this.” She handed her the tea and sat on the edge of the bed until Katherine was calm.

“It was so real. It is always so real. It is as if I am drowning all over again,” said Katherine.

“But it was too long ago. Yer mother is gone and cannae hurt ye any longer,” said the nun softly, smoothing back her hair and making reassuring humming sounds.

When Katherine had regained consciousness all those years ago, she had found her mother dead on the ground and her father pulling her safely up into his arms. From that day forward, she had never been the same. She had lost every memory of the incident and her life before that. Soon after, her father had sent her to live with the nuns as Katherine’s face was a constant reminder of the wife he had lost. He never overcame the tragic circumstances of her death. And with his wife, he had also lost his faith and trust in people. Katherine had rarely visited her family home for the holidays and special clan gatherings until the king summoned her to be wed to the Viking beast of the Orkney Islands.

Now her father was rotting in the king’s prison for his fraudulent and violent crimes against the king and Clan Leòideach. Instead of obeying the king and marrying Katherine to Laird Leòideach, her father had killed a band of traveling Romani, kidnapped their young women, and forced one of them to wed the laird in Katherine’s place. Katherine had known nothing of the violence that her father had unleashed on her. She had believed the Romani woman to be a willing party to the deception, enjoying the benefits of marrying a laird. She had not known that her father, Alistair Morgan, held the woman’s sisters captive upon threat of death. It had been a daunting realization that he was capable of such violence, but Katherine owed him her life, and as his daughter, she owed him her loyalty.

When her father had been arrested and imprisoned, he entrusted one of his men with the control and protection of the clan until he would be released or Katherine would wed. But she had returned to the nunnery; it was the only place she had ever felt safe. With the anguish of everything that had happened during and after the battle with Clan Leòideach, Katherine’s nightmares had returned.

“Now that ye are feeling better, I should tell ye that a letter has come for ye,” said Sister Isla. The nun handed her an envelope with the king’s wax seal stamp.

“Is it about my father?” Katherine asked.

“I dinnae ken, lass. I didnae open it as it was formally addressed tae ye,” replied the nun. “I willnae take the candle, ye will need it.” Then she arose and took back the empty quaich of tea, leaving the room to give her some privacy.

Katherine took a deep breath, preparing for whatever might lie beneath the king’s seal. She prayed that it was not anything bad about her father. She broke open the wax seal and unfolded the note. It was a summons. As she was reading, Katherine felt her skin prickle with fear and bile rise to her throat.

She was to be wed in exchange for her father’s freedom; this time, the king himself would be a witness. This time there was no way out. The king had sent men to the nunnery with orders to deliver the letter to Katherine and take her to him with all haste, and according to the letter, they were waiting outside.
She had to leave now.

***

Orkney Islands, Scotland

Tor Leòideach lay in bed staring at the ceiling above him. His favorite mistress was beside him, soft and pliant, breathing gently in her sleep. As the laird’s brother and commander of the clansmen, he could have lain with any woman he wished, but Sophie was the best. She always gave him what he needed and never asked for anything in return. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement and she knew how to be discreet. The only inconvenience about her was that she would immediately fall asleep after they were intimate, so he could seldom bring her to his chamber. It was not a secret that he had mistresses. Still, since his older brother, Dunn Leòideach, had had an unfortunate problem with his own before marrying his wife, Tor was attempting to avoid any such entanglements of jealousy and rage.

At least it worked out for Dunn. He loves his wife. I willnae allow myself that luxury.

Dunn had been commanded to wed Katherine Morgan, daughter of Alistair Morgan, despite the long-standing feud between Clan Morgan and Clan Leòideach. When Alistair Morgan had received the news that his daughter was to be wed to Dunn, he replaced her with a Romani woman named Katarina Buckland on the day of the wedding. Fortunately, Dunn had fallen in love with her and they were now happily married.

The king, however, furious at Alistair Morgan’s defiance, had ordered Tor to wed Lady Katherine in his brother’s stead. Tor had fought it at first, but the king had threatened him that if he had not obeyed, what little had remained of his clan’s lands and wealth would have been forfeited. So, despite his bitterness and frustration, Tor resigned and agreed to marry his mortal enemy’s daughter for the sake of his clan.

I refuse tae live with Clan Morgan. The king may command me tae wed its heiress, but I willnae live there. It is enough that I must deliver my soul tae the devil, I need nae surrender my manhood as well.

There was a quiet tap at the door. Rising carefully from his bed so as not to awaken Sophie, he put on his trews and walked over to the door. His brother, Dunn, stood waiting with a somber look on his face. “Whisky?” he asked, cocking his head toward the hall.

“Aye,” Tor nodded and grabbed his shirt from the floor before following his brother. Descending the stairs, the brothers walked together into the great hall. They approached the large fireplace and sat in front of the subdued blaze.

Dunn poured them both a drink and said in a sad voice, “I am sorry.” His eyes showed his sincerity. “I never meant for ye tae be punished for my actions.”

Tor shook his head. “Katarina is a worthy wife. The love that ye share with her now reminds me of our parents’ love. And it is rare. Ye are nae responsible for the actions of Alistair Morgan or the Crown,” he said.

“It does nae make me feel any less guilty for it,” said Dunn. “It was my duty and I didnae fulfill it.”

“There is nae need for ye tae feel guilty, brother. Ye didnae ken that at the time. Regardless of how it happened, now ye and Katarina are happy and bound by God. It is nae longer yer duty tae perform. Enjoy yer wife and leave me tae deal with my duty,” said Tor.

Dunn studied Tor’s face for a moment before nodding. “As ye say, but ye are nae alone in this. Katarina and I will aid ye in any way that we can. After what Lady Katherine did for us to help end the battle and bring her father to justice, she has earned the right to some respect,” said Dunn.

Tor nodded slowly in thought. “Aye, that was brave of her, I grant ye. Foolish but brave,” he said.

“Perhaps there is hope?” Dunn asked, his brows raised more as a prayer than a question.

“Perhaps, but I would nae place my faith in it. It is a marriage of political necessity. Without it, we lose all that is left to us,” said Tor.

Dunn nodded. “Let us pray that it brings an end to the Crown’s animosity.”

The soft patter of footsteps heralded the arrival of Dunn’s wife, Katarina. Both brothers smiled when they saw her cradling her pregnant belly. She came forward and kissed her husband. “I missed ye in our bed, husband,” she said and smiled at him sweetly. She then turned her smile to Tor, her eyes full of sympathy. “I am greatly pleased that the king allowed ye to return for Lammastide. It is wonderful to have everyone together,” she said.

“The king gave me a year’s reprieve from my forced marriage on condition that I did as his regent asked and performed mercenary duties as required. I could nae refuse. A year more of freedom was too much of a temptation, but that time has come and gone. My time of service to the king is done and I am to settle. I must leave at dawn for Edinburgh. The king will be present to oversee my marriage to Lady Katherine Morgan,” said Tor.

“Does the lass ken that she is tae wed ye? We have nae seen nor heard of her since the battle,” Dunn asked, taking his wife’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He had come close to losing her that day.

Tor shook his head. “The Crown forbade me tae go tae her and speak with her about it. The king’s regent said he would do what needed tae be done. I was simply tae obey or else risk everything that has remained to us,” he said.

Dunn shook his head. “The poor lass.”

“I can only assume that she will be as displeased as I am about the arrangement,” Tor said.

The sound of more masculine footsteps sounded on the hall floor, making them all turn to see who else was awake at such a late hour. Andrew came striding across the floor to Katarina’s side; his brow furrowed in worry. He looked at her sternly and said, “What are ye doing out of bed? Ye should be resting,” he said to her.

Dunn and Tor exchanged an amused smile. Andrew was the baby’s godfather and took his duties very seriously. His brother, Bran, had died attempting to save Katarina’s life. To honor his memory, if the baby was a boy, they would name him Bran.

“I could say the same of ye,” Katarina raised an accusing brow. Andrew had been injured breaking up a fight between two men at the Lammastide feast, and Katarina had tended to his wounds.

The man gestured toward the bandage around his leg. “Ye sewed me up just fine, dinnae worry about it. It was nae my fault, anyway. I was doing my duty and ensuring all was well,” Andrew said with a smirk.

Katarina smiled at him fondly and said, “Indeed, all is well. It is Tor that ye should be concerned for.”

Andrew turned a sympathetic eye to Tor. “I am sorry tae hear of yer fate, lad. It is nae fair or right what ye are being asked tae do. Ye willnae hold it against me that I held a knife tae Lady Katherine’s throat at the battle, will ye?” he asked.

Tor shook his head. “Nae, I willnae. Ye are the reason we were able tae bring our people home. We all could have died that day if ye had nae done what ye did. Ye dinnae owe me an apology of any kind. How my new wife will feel about it, I cannae say,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

Andrew nodded in acceptance. “I only did what any of ye would have done if ye had the opportunity.”

Katarina moved to sit down in one of the chairs. “We are eternally grateful tae ye, Andrew,” she said.

Giving up on the idea of getting Katarina to go back to bed, Andrew joined them and sat down across from her. Turning to Dunn, he held his gaze in concern. “Have ye told the clan of the lass Tor is to wed?” he asked him.

Dunn shook his head. “Nae, only a few trustworthy men ken. We will inform the clan once it is done. Right now, there is nae reason tae complicate things. They will ken when it is unavoidable. Our people’s animosity toward Clan Morgan has grown exponentially since they attacked our island and our subsequent battle at Strathnaver. Lady Katherine attempted to aid us, but that willnae suffice for the majority of our clansmen,” he answered.

Andrew shook his head. “Nae, it willnae. Though it has been over a year since the battle, upon my return from Rome, it was made clear to me that the rumblings have yet to die down. The Crown should have killed the bastard Alistair Morgan and been done with it instead of keeping him alive in prison. Many fear that he will be released and return to continue his former atrocities,” he said.

“I worry about her, though,” Katarina cut in with a frown of concern. “It is not a simple matter tae wed a stranger, especially if that stranger is yer family’s sworn enemy. It is not easy tae leave behind everything ye have ever known and join yer life tae another’s. Have ye told the king that ye have no intention of living in the Clan Morgan castle?”

Tor shook his head. “I have nae. I dinnae intend tae tell him anything that I dinnae have tae,” he answered.

“It is wise tae avoid being defiant, it could come with unforeseen consequences,” Dunn warned.

Tor nodded slowly. “Aye, it could, but I am hoping that my recent work for the Crown has earned me some goodwill. It is nae enough tae remedy for the bad blood between us completely, but it is a start,” he said.

“Yer father and grandfather stood for what they thought was right. They would nae have wished such hardships upon ye, but I ken that they would be proud of ye. My father often spoke of yer grandfather’s feats in battle. He was proud to fight by his side,” said Andrew.

Dunn and Tor nodded together, sharing a look of understanding. They had lost everything and were now building new lives for themselves, but it was not easy. “Aye, they were good men,” Dunn agreed, pulling Katarina up from her chair and into his arms.

Tor smiled at the sight of them together and his mind turned to what awaited him above the stairs. “I will try to sleep for whatever remains of the night,” he said and stood up. Tor bid them all a good rest and returned to the warm embrace of Sophie. Tomorrow he would be a married man.

Chapter Two

Strathnaver, Scotland

Katherine packed what few belongings she had with her to the nunnery and stepped out into the corridor, where the nuns stood lined up to bid her farewell. Dawn had not yet crested the horizon, but even the most elderly among them had arisen to see her off. She would miss them dearly. She hugged each nun, spoke a few kind words, then walked out into the predawn shadows. The king’s men stood waiting for her impatiently.

“How do we ken that this is the true Lady Katherine Morgan?” one of them asked, eyeing her with distrust.

Katherine stood to her full height, straightened her shoulders, and said, “I am Lady Katherine Morgan.”

“The king will ken the truth of it,” said one of them. The one who seemed to be in charge of the other two motioned for her to climb atop a horse. When she did not move fast enough to please him, the other two lifted her off the ground and placed her roughly upon the saddle.

“The king would nae approve of such rough treatment,” Katherine chastised them, even though her pride was more bruised than her body.

“The king gave nae command to be gentle. He only ordered tae bring ye to him, whether ye were willing or nae,” the man in charge said, grabbing her horse’s reins and urging his own horse forward.

The journey to Edinburgh was challenging and long. The men only stopped to water their horses. They spent the first night in Inverness at an inn where Katherine had been assigned a room, forbidding her from leaving, and a man stood guard outside her room all night. Until the next morning, she only saw the innkeeper’s wife, who brought her supper and then quickly left. The men awoke her before dawn and continued their journey all day and into the night before finally arriving at their destination.

When she arrived in Edinburgh, she was taken to the King’s Castle and shown to a chamber. Maids undressed her and bathed her, scrubbing her thoroughly. Despite how she had been treated since leaving the nunnery, Katherine kept her tongue. She only wanted to get through it. It was humiliating and degrading, and she was powerless to stop it. Her father’s life was in the hands of the king. Katherine must obey his every command or risk being orphaned entirely.

Once the women had finished washing her, they helped her put on a nightgown, and the oldest woman ushered her into bed. “Rest now, lass. Upon the morn, ye will be wed.”

Katherine finally found her voice. “Who am I to wed?” she asked.

“That is nae mine to ken, lass.”

“Well, it is mine, but I still dinnae ken,” Katherine retorted in distress.

The older woman studied her face briefly, then patted her arm and said, “Aye, ye should ken, but alas, many girls are nae allowed such knowledge until it is too late.” Pulling the covers under Katherine’s chin, the woman moved toward the door. “Rest, the morn will come before ye are ready.” With her words hanging in the air between them, the woman left the chamber and closed the door behind her.

Katherine lay there in the silent, low light of the fire and wept until sleep finally claimed her.

***

Edinburgh, Scotland

Tor stood in the king’s chapel awaiting his bride. Footsteps sounded in the hallway behind him and he turned to see a priest enter the room. “I am here to hear yer confession, my son,” he said.

Tor complied and knelt to confess his sins. In defiance of being forced to marry a woman he did not want, he gave the priest a colorful rendition of his usual confession. After hearing everything, the priest simply nodded and gave him a stern look before absolving him of his sins and assigning him penance. His anger had given way to resignation.

He heard a commotion in the hallway a few minutes later, and the king, his regent, and various other royal household members entered the chapel. They all sat down after greeting Tor with a nod. He rose and bowed before the king, who acknowledged the bow and took his place of prominence. At that moment, his bride appeared and stood in the doorway.

Tor’s jaw almost dropped to the ground. He’d never seen her before as he had been outside the castle walls during the battle. She was stunning, with hazel brown hair that sparkled in the candlelight, her eyes were a beautiful bright emerald green. Her complexion was impeccable. Her features were all perfectly proportioned. A more beautiful woman he had never seen.

It is nae wonder Morgan chose Katarina as Katherine’s replacement in her marriage to Dunn. They are very much alike in nearly every aspect. They could pass as sisters.

Tor shook his head to clear his mind. He had heard that she was beautiful, but nothing had prepared him for how his body and mind would respond to her presence. He saw a flicker of fear and doubt enter her eyes and he stepped forward, offering her his hand in reassurance. “My Lady,” he murmured, then bowed and kissed her hand. “Shall we?” With a curt nod from his bride, they both turned to face the priest.

***

Katherine awoke with a start to find a bevy of maids surrounding her bed, each holding an item of clothing. “My lady,” the kind older woman from the night before greeted her. “It is yer wedding day.”

Sighing, Katherine arose and let the women undress and redress her. She had not even been given the courtesy of bringing her breakfast. The king and his regent must be in a hurry. She still did not understand what the Crown had to gain from that marriage, as she still did not know who her husband was to be. She had narrowly escaped being wed to the Viking beast of the Orkney Islands. She assumed that anyone would be better, judging by the things she had heard about him. She had never cared for men who kept many mistresses or reveled in being so infamous. The stories her father had told her about Laird Leòideach and his family were filled with violence and hatred.

Once dressed, the maids brushed her hair and placed a silver circlet upon her head. One of them held up a polished piece of metal for her to see her reflection. The dress was lovely. Whoever had created it had been kind enough to consider Katherine’s heritage. It was a lovely Morgan blue, with silver thread vined through the fabric in beautiful flowing lines. “Thank ye for yer kindness,” she murmured, resigned to make the best of her situation. Her marriage was the only thing to save her father from death. If she wed, he would be free. In the end, that was all that mattered to her.

Squaring her shoulders, Katherine turned and left her chamber to find the king’s men waiting for her. “If ye will follow me, my lady,” one of the men stepped forward and offered her his hand to lead her to the chapel.

Katherine hesitantly accepted his hand and followed him down the corridor, down a set of stairs, out through a courtyard, and into a small stone chapel. Inside, she found the king, the king’s regent, their families, and the largest man she had ever seen aside from Dunn Leòideach. The man could have passed as his twin were it not for the lack of a large scar down the side of his face. This Viking beast had long blond hair with a single small braid down the front, sharp icy blue eyes, and muscles that bulged through his clothes from his arms and legs. His shoulders were broad and he towered over her in height.

The giant of a man stepped forward and took her hand to kiss it. “My Lady,” he murmured for her ears alone. “Shall we?”

Fear and something else she did not understand challenged her senses, giving her goosebumps. Unable to do anything else, she took his hand and let him lead her to the priest. The feel of his skin was warm and firm. His hand could have easily swallowed hers whole, however, he exhibited nothing but gentleness. How a man of his apparent brute strength could be so gentle, she knew not. In a daze of fear and wonder, she had not realized that the priest was already speaking to them.

“Repeat after me, my son.” The priest took a deep breath and then began. “I, Tor Leòideach, take thee, Lady Katherine Morgan, to be my wedded wife, 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 us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

The man nodded and turned to face her, meeting her eyes. Then he repeated the priest’s words.

Katherine felt a cold numbness pass over her as the realization of what they were doing fully washed over her. If she were to be honest with herself, deep down, she had known that there was a possibility that she might be married off to another member of Clan Leòideach as the king had originally desired. But she had not allowed herself to give this knowledge true thought. She had escaped being wed to one Viking beast, only to be chained to another. How could God be so cruel?

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

The words stuck in her throat and Katherine could only hesitantly mutter something resembling consent, which came out as more of a choked cough than recognizable words. “If I must,” she said.

The priest gave her a sympathetic look, then continued, “I, Lady Katherine Morgan, take thee, Tor 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 us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

Katherine looked at Tor and swallowed hard. Clearing her throat, she repeated the priest’s words.

The king’s regent took a step forward, holding a small knife. Tor extended his arm, and the regent made a small cut on the inside of Tor’s wrist, then took Katherine’s hand and did the same. He put their hands together so the blood from their cuts blended, then took a piece of ribbon and tied their hands together. Tor looked Katherine in the eyes once more, and when he did, she thought she saw something resembling sadness and resolve in his eyes. “Ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, till our life shall be done,” Tor said.

Katherine’s heart raced faster as she heard his words and saw the look in his eyes. He clearly did not want to marry her any more than she did. She had no choice but to repeat his words.

And with that, she was bound forever to her hereditary enemy.

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