Dougal moved forward and drew Jamie’s dirk from its sheath, and she wondered why. Still looking at her, Jamie held out his right hand, palm up. She gasped as the point of the dirk scored deeply across his wrist, leaving a dark line of welling blood. There was no time to jerk away before her hand was seized, and she hissed as the blade sliced her skin before both their wrists were pressed together and bound with a strip of white linen.