Page 37 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. “Esme, wake, we take our leave now.”

She opened her eyes and stretched her shoulders back. “I fell asleep.”

“Aye. It has been an exhausting day,” he said.

“It has been, and I am glad to be going home,” Esme said and realized her words. Never would she have thought she wouldever utter those words and yet… she had. But then something had changed… her husband.

She took his hand, he offered her, and was surprised when he stopped by a table, snatched up her cloak and slipped it over her shoulders. Then he took hold of her hand again and she walked with him out of the keep to their waiting horses.

“You will ride with me,” he announced when they reached his stallion.

She tilted her head in question.

“You are tired. You can rest in my arms,” he said with a hint of concern.

He lifted her onto his horse, then mounted, shifting her until she rested comfortably against him.

Increasingly, she suspected her suspicions were proving true. Torrance would never be this considerate to her and she would never feel so comfortable or safe in his arms as she felt at that moment. Soon. Very soon, she would need to confront him… Ryland. And see what he was up to. For now, she would enjoy his arms and warmth.

She laid her head on his chest and the horse barely moved when she fell asleep.

Esme satin her bedchamber in thought. Torrance had ordered her to her own bedchamber to sleep tonight, and she understood why. He had to be exhausted after today. Upon their arrival home he had called for Brack, but to her surprise it wasn’t his solar they went to talk. He walked through the village detailing to Brack what had happened at Clen Rennoch and had instructed him to increase the clan’s sentinels.

Gossip spread quickly about the incident, but it was that Torrance hadn’t condemned Chieftain Stuart to a horrible death that shocked everyone the most.

For Esme, it helped to further confirm what she thought, that Ryland, for some reason, had assumed Torrance’s identity.

She dropped down on her bed with a heavy sigh. She wished she had the courage to confront Ryland but there was still a small part of her that worried she could be wrong. And if she was, that could prove disastrous for her.

Battle did change some men. She had heard her da speak of it. How some of his warriors could fight no more and how some were anxious for more battles. Her da, himself, had grown battle-worn and it was one of the reasons he had agreed to the proposal that she become Torrance’s wife.

She recalled his words to her when he told her the marriage arrangement had been made.

“I have fought endlessly and with courage for our clan. It is time for you to do your share, your duty, and with courage.”

The only problem was that her da didn’t have to battle every day whereas she had realized on her wedding day that it would be a daily battle to survive her husband. It didn’t take her long to discover that no matter what she did, she would never please him. Torrance would always find fault with her and that he actually enjoyed berating her. Never once had he ever praised her or had come to her defense. Not like he did today.

She sat up, another memory of today popping into her head… the old woman.

What was it, she had said? The old woman’s voice came back to her as clearly as if she was there with her in the room.

“He searches. He seeks answers long buried beneath blood and vengeance. What he seeks lies two days’ ride from Clan Glencairn. But he cannot go alone… you must go with him, if secrets are to be revealed.”

Esme bounced off the bed. She had forgotten to tell Torrance about it. Without thinking over the wisdom of such a sudden decision, she hurried out of the room to her husband’s bedchamber eager to tell him. But each step toward his bedchamber chipped away at her certainty.

The urgency that had driven Esme from her own chamber faltered as she neared his door, doubt slipping in like a cold draft. What was she doing? He had commanded her to remain in her bedchamber tonight, and yet here she was, disobeying him.

Foolish, she scolded herself. And yet, the old woman’s voice had echoed so clearly in her head, chilling her more than the stone floor beneath her bare feet.

She stopped at the door, raised her hand, and with her knuckles hovering mid-air, her breath caught. She could still turn back. Pretend she’d never left her room and say nothing of riddles or secrets or what the old woman had warned. But what if the woman had spoken the truth?

Esme made the decision quickly before her courage took flight and rapped on the door.

“Did I not make myself clear that I did not want to be disturbed tonight?” Torrance bellowed.

Esme cringed. This was a mistake, a terrible mistake, but since she already made it, she forged ahead.

“It is I, my lord, your wife,” she called out bravely.

---