Page 34 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Cassandra gasped, her scream piercing the air as the man swung his blade toward Hunter’s side. Hunter sidestepped with practiced ease, grabbing the attacker’s wrist and twisting it sharply. The dagger clattered to the ground, and with a swift movement, Hunter yanked the man forward and slammed him against the wooden post of a nearby stall.
Villagers turned in alarm, whispers rippling through the crowd as Hunter ripped back the hood, revealing the face of his assailant.
Hunter’s breath caught as recognition hit him like a hammer. "Michael?" he barked, his grip tightening. "What in God’s name are ye doin'?"
Michael Couper, his late wife's father, glared at him with wild, grief-stricken eyes. "Damn ye, Hunter," he spat. "Ye should be dead instead of me precious Margaret!"
Cassandra took a hesitant step forward, her face pale. "Who is he?" she asked, her voice wavering.
Michael’s gaze snapped to her, his expression twisted with sorrow and fury. "Lass, ye must run," he said, his voice hoarse. "Get away from this accursed family, lest ye end up like me daughter—buried before her time!"
Cassandra’s eyes darted to Hunter, confusion and unease flickering across her face. Hunter felt the sting of Michael’s words, but he refused to loosen his grip. "Enough of this madness," he growled. "Attackin’ me in broad daylight? What were ye thinkin’, old man?"
Michael let out a humorless laugh, his shoulders shaking with barely restrained fury. "What was I thinkin’?" he echoed. "I was thinkin’ how justice has yet to be served for me daughter's death. First yer own parents, and then me daughter—who will be next, Hunter? Is this poor lass yer next victim?"
Hunter’s jaw clenched, his temper flaring. "Watch yer tongue, Michael," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Ye’re close to committin’ treason."
Michael sneered. "Aye? And what will ye do, Laird McDougal? Kill me, like ye did the others?"
Hunter’s grip nearly crushed the fabric of Michael’s cloak. The air between them crackled with tension, the past clawing at Hunter with bitter fingers. He had spent years fighting against the rumors that clung to him like a curse, but Michael’s accusations reopened wounds he thought had long scarred over.
Michael turned his sharp gaze back to Cassandra. "Daenae let his charm fool ye, lass," he warned. "He’s got blood on his hands, more than ye ken."
Cassandra swallowed hard, her brows knitting together. "I—I daenae understand," she stammered. "Why would ye say such things?"
Michael shook his head, his expression crumbling into sorrow. "Because I lost me daughter to him," he said, his voice raw. "And I cannae bear to see another innocent woman suffer the same fate."
Hunter shoved Michael back, his patience snapping. "Leave," he ordered, his voice steel. "Before I forget that once upon a time, I respected ye."
Michael held Hunter’s gaze for a long, tense moment before stepping back. "Ye can try to bury the past, McDougal," he said. "But the dead have long memories."
Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his cloak billowing behind him.
Hunter stood rigid, his jaw locked, his heart pounding in his chest. The ghosts of his past had returned, and now, Cassandra had been dragged into the storm. He looked at her, Cassandra let out a shaky breath, her hands curled into fists at her sides.
Hunter clenched his fists as he watched Michael Couper disappear down the village road. The weight of Cassandra’s gaze pressed on him, and he knew the question before she even spoke it.
“Who was that man?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with unease.
Hunter exhaled sharply and turned to face her. “Michael Couper—me former faither-in-law.”
Cassandra’s brow furrowed. “Former?”
“Aye,” Hunter said, jaw tightening. “He believes I killed his daughter, Margaret. I swear to ye, Cassandra, ‘tis nae the truth."
"Then what is the truth, Hunter?" she asked.
Hunter couldn't bear the look of disappointment and mistrust in her eyes as she questioned him. He turned on his heel and walked back toward his horses, but he could hear her steps as she followed.
"Daenae walk away from me Hunter," she said. "Ye owe the truth to me."
"Ye goin' to believe that man's word that I'm a murderer, Cassandra? That I would take the life of me own bairn's maither?" his face turned dark as he looked down at her.
"Nay, I daenae believe that but somethin’ happened and I willnae go another step with ye if ye daenae tell me," she said.
He watched as her chest heaved up and down. The glassy look in her eyes made his guard fall. A sigh left his lips.
"In truth, she was unfaithful, and when the church annulled our marriage, she begged me nae to tell anyone the real reason. She dinnae want her faither to ken. She begged. So after, I pretended she’s dead and she lives a life of secret elsewhere."
