Page 178 of The Highlander's Christmas Bride

He looked morose. “Yer right. I keep forgetting that bit.” She rose. “Then let’s go talk to your father.”

He followed her to the door. “Ye’ll explain it to him, won’t ye?”

“Yes, dear. I promise. Now, we need to hurry.”

He gave her a relieved grin and then started banging on the door. “Da, we need to talk to ye. It’s important.”

When they were met by silence, Roddy banged louder. “Da, open the door.”

“Mr. Murray, we need to speak with you,” Donella shouted.

“Have ye done the deed, lad?” Mungo finally yelled back. Roddy grimaced. “Da, I canna do it. It would be a sin, ye ken.”

“What the hell are ye talkin’ about, ye daft fool?”

“He’s talking about the fact that I’m already married,” Donella said. “And if you do not let me out of this room, there will be hell to pay when my husband finds you.”

A key rattled and the door flew open.

“What do ye mean yer already married?” Mungo roared.

Roddy winced. “Och, Da. Yer breakin’ our ears.”

“I’ll break yer head, ye moron. Get out here and explain yerselves.”

Roddy escorted Donella into the hall, making a wide berth around his father.

Fortunately, someone had lit a fire in the hall’s giant hearth and pulled one of the settles in front of it. Roddy silently urged her to sit.

When his father joined them, Roddy hastily retreated into a dark corner.

Donella couldn’t truly blame him. Mungo was ready to explode.

“Explain yerself, lass,” he snapped.

“As I said, I am already married. My husband will be happy to prove it, once we return to Breadie Manor.”

“And who is this mysterious husband?”

“Logan Kendrick.”

Mungo’s face turned splotchy with rage. “The bastard who shot my men and threw them over the side of the bridge?”

“Sir, please stop shouting,” Donella said. “And might I remindyouthat those same men attacked us and tried to kidnap me.”

“Because ye shamed my family and my puir lad. I was only trying to put things right.”

“Da, she’s married,” Roddy said. “There’s nothin’ ye—”

“Shut it,” his father snapped. “If ye were half the man ye needed to be, this wouldna happened.”

“Your son is a decent, kindhearted man,” Donella retorted. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

“Then why did ye treat him so badly those years ago, ye stuck-up—”

“Another word, Murray,” a harsh voice interrupted, “and I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

Donella jumped to her feet, overcome with relief. “Logan!”

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