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With that, he let fly with his boot, catching Arran behind his knees and almost bringing him down. He closed his fist and landed a brutal, shattering blow to Arran’s jaw.

“And that’s just the beginning of what I have in store fer ye. Ye vile, traitorous knave.” He laughed menacingly. “When I’ve finished, ye’ll curse the day ye were born and long fer death tae claim ye.”

He turned his attention to Dahlia. “And ye, ye strong-willed little whore. Did ye think I didnae ken that ye were whoring yersel’ with me cousin? That ye were in his arms every night, pretending tae dislike his presence as yer guard. How ye mistook me fer a fool?”

Arran hauled himself to his feet and grabbed the back of the chair Dahlia was seated on to keep his balance and furiously addressed Bairre.

“And ye played the part of the horned cuckold,” he spat the words with as much contempt as he could muster. “Withouthonor or high principles, standing by while the lass ye wanted chose another, better man. Ye never cared a whit fer the lady. Tae ye she is only a tool that will bring ye riches and status. ‘Tis ye who’re the fool Bairre, fer thinking tae wed a lass who despises ye.”

Bairre guffawed. “Och, I kent every time ye played games with the whore. We kent it was she who saved ye from the fire in the old cottage when ye should have died there. And did ye really think I would believe the cock and bull story ye told about losing yer clothes?” He stepped closer, pushing his face close to Arran’s with an ugly snarl. “And dinnae ye speak tae me of honor, when ye’ve been a traitorous knave under me own roof bedding the lass who is rightly betrothed tae me by King Robert’s decree.”

He pulled back his arm and delivered a hard slap across Arran’s face with his open palm. “And that’s the blow I’ve been waiting tae give ye fer years fer the trouble ye caused in releasing Dahlia from me braither’s prison.”

The force of it threw Arran’s head back, but it was Bairre’s words that caused his heart to sink.

This cannae be true.

There was no soul other than Craig Donald who was aware he was the man who’d tried and failed to rescue Dahlia from the Laird James Mackinnon’s dungeon.

Yet Bairre knew of it.

Slowly it dawned on Arran that his friend had betrayed him to Bairre.

Craig is a traitor. He tricked me intae sending Dahlia with him intae his trap.

It was then that the door was flung open again and, almost as if he was aware of the thoughts swarming in Arran’s mind, a smiling Craig entered the room.

“Ye filthy traitorous swine,” Arran managed through gritted teeth. “I trusted ye with the life of the lassie I love, who is the most precious in the world tae me. Ye kent this, yet ye thought naught of betraying us.”

Craig shrugged away Arran’s accusations. “Och, me friend, ye are truly naïve if ye think that the bonds of childhood remain strong enough through life. Why, they dinnae provide a roof over me head, or fine food, or the favors of sweet-scented women. All these are pleasures I crave and me loyalties lie with he who provides me with the substance tae obtain them.” He glanced briefly at Bairre. “And it is me Laird, Bairre, who ensures me needs are met. I am his liege man, and when he commands me, I obey.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Bairre huffed impatiently and turned to his guards. “Enough of this. It is time we were bound fer me castle.” He turned to Dahlia who was still seated on the chair, although her hands were now free. “We dinnae wish tae keep the priest waiting dae we, me love?” He reached out and cupped her chin. “Tomorrow night we’ll be wed and ye’ll be mine fer the rest of yer days.” He gave a chuckle that brought Dahlia’s head up defiantly as she shrugged away his hand.

“I’ll die before I wed ye, Bairre Mackinnon,” She hissed the words, leaving no doubt she meant every one of them.

Ignoring Dahlia’s fury, Bairre snapped his fingers at Craig, who jumped to attention, ready to do his master’s bidding.

“Tie the man securely, we’ll take him with us.” He grinned at Arran, rubbing his hands as the guards stepped forward. “I’ve a special treat waiting fer him in the dungeon at Castle MacKinnon. Ye may recall the place from a previous visit.” He laughed again.

As Craig bent to retie his hands, Arran lunged, butting Craig a huge blow with his forehead. Craig stumbled back and Arran seized the initiative with his dirk. He snatched Dahlia’s arm and she clambered to her feet behind him. Wielding the dirk at arm’s length he swung it from side to side between Bairre and Craig as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Come any closer and I’ll skewer both of ye.”

Bairre’s two guards were circling him, sorely outnumbering him.

At that moment their attention was diverted by loud voices in the corridor outside. Then came the clash of arms, shouts, and screams and the door flew open, allowing entry to Haldor and his brothers.

This new turn of events caused Arran’s already pounding heart to beat faster. Now there was hope.

As the guards leaped forward, ready to face this new threat, Haldor threw a sword to Arran who caught it in his right hand, his left still firmly clutching the dirk.

From the corner of his eye, Arran was aware of Dahlia, pressed against the wall, while her brothers Ivar and Arne were engaged in a fierce tussle with Bairre’s guards. He swiveled his head searching for Craig but, fending off blows from of the guards, he could not catch sight of him among the swelling melee.

Outside the room, the MacLeod guardsmen were tangling with the rest of Bairre’s guards.

It was a fierce fight, but Haldor’s men had the faster, stronger edge.