Page 37 of The Cursed Highland Bride

“I cursed the laird.”

“What has that to do with me?”

“I cursed him tae love one o’ our kind.”

Understanding dawned in Katarina’s mind. “Why?”

“He needed tae change.”

“You are one of his mistresses.”

“I was.” Esmerelda nodded without shame.

“Was?”

“Since wedding ye, he has nae touched me.”

Katarina could not help the relief that came over her at hearing it. She did not wish to compete with a woman of her own people. “You did not do this. You are not responsible for what happened to my family. That blame lies entirely with Alistair Morgan.”

“Do ye nae believe in the old ways?”

“I do.” Katarina felt offended by the question. Her people’s beliefs were sacred to her.

“Do ye believe in the power o’ curses?”

A chill ran down Katarina’s spine. “I do,” she answered softly, her voice trembling at the thought.

“Then I am tae blame. It was nae my intent tae cause harm tae ye or yer family.”

Katarina shook her head. “I do not lay blame at your feet.”

“Nevertheless, I owe ye a debt o’ recompense. There will come a day when ye will need me. When that day comes, send word, and I will come tae ye.”

Katarina nodded in agreement. She might very well need her help if the day came when she needed to make her escape. “Do you have a boat?”

Esmerelda’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Are ye planning tae leave yer husband?”

“Only if I must. I would prefer to win him over, I need his fighting men to save my sisters.”

“Would stealth nae serve ye better?”

“I do not know for certain where they are being held. Morgan removed them and hid them away somewhere he believed that I would not find them. I need a large number of men to search for them and to defeat him.”

“What ye are asking could bring about the end o’ Dunn’s clan. Would ye wish that on yer new people?”

“I would not.” Katarina shook her head. “I do not wish anyone harm except for Alistair Morgan and the men who killed my family.”

Esmerelda cocked her head to the side in inquiry. “Do ye wish tae kill Alistair Morgan yerself?”

Katarina answered without hesitation. “I do.”

Esmerelda nodded in understanding. Standing, she walked over to the chest she had pulled the dry clothes from and pulled out another item wrapped in fabric. She came to sit back down in front of Katarina and unwrapped the cloth. Nestled inside was a dagger of such exquisite craftsmanship, it glowed in the firelight. “This blade was forged in Damascus and holds within its metal the soul of a warrior. With this, ye will see the end o’ the man who took all from ye.”

“It is beautiful,” Katarina breathed in awe.

Esmerelda carefully handed her the blade. “Be wise. Be swift. Be true.”

Katarina looked up into Esmerelda’s eyes. “Why do you give me this priceless treasure?”