Page 105 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Brenna shook her head. “Nay. Nay. He is?—”

“A horrible, terrible man you could never love.”

Anger sparked in Brenna’s eyes. “Brack is a good man who must—” She gasped, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

“You can trust me, Brenna, I will keep your secret.”

Brenna turned away and placed the untouched bowl on the table, before turning back to Esme. “We tried to be cautious. Quiet. A few stolen moments where no one could see. I thought we were careful.”

Esme stepped closer. “Brack’s afraid.”

Brenna nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. “He’s seen what Torrance does to couples who defy his rules. Those who dared love where he disapproved—he’s separated them, punished them, ruined them. Brack has nothing good to say about marriage since Torrance had once told him when he decided to wed, he would choose a wife for him.” She wiped away a few tears. It would break both our hearts if that was to happen. I am careful of not getting with child but Brack and I both long to have bairns, have a life to love freely.”

Esme lowered her gaze, her throat tightening. “That’s a fear I understand.”

“I weep for you being stuck with such a horrid man. While I fear what Brack and my love could cost us, I am still blessed to be loved.”

Esme hesitated, every word on the tip of her tongue threatening to expose what could not be spoken. Yet she wanted to caution her to hold onto hope. She swallowed it down and said instead, “You and Brack deserve to love openly. Don’t give up hope.”

“Hope was something I had when Lord Torrance went into battle,” Brenna said. “I prayed God would be stronger than the devil, but the devil was victorious and returned home.”

“There is always hope,” Esme said softly. “You hold fast to what you feel, even if you must keep it hidden for now. The time will come. Wait and see. It will come.”

The wind hissedalong the stone walls of the keep, a low, mournful whisper that crept beneath the doors and stirred the flames in the hearth. Esme sat alone in the bedchamber waiting for Ryland. She stared into the flames, her thoughts tangled with Brenna’s tearful words.

“The devil was victorious and returned home.”

If Torrance was so horrid that most believed him to be the devil, then who would dare go against him… those who believed they were deceptive enough, cruel enough to unseat him, to take his thrown or good people who wanted to end evil’s reign?

She didn’t want to think that Brack could be the one behind the attempts on Torrance and her life. But he was in the perfect position to do so, to convince Torrance’s warriors to betray him, and being he loved Brenna, it would give him a strong motive to do so.

She stood and started pacing, her mind working rapidly. Then there was Clan Purdom, if any clan had a good reason for wanting revenge, it was Purdom. Could Patrick have waited all these years, gathered warriors who would help him, who had enough hatred for Torrance’s father to see the son dead? And what of the various clans Torrance wanted to conquer, consume, force to align with him?

Her hand flew to her chest, a sharp pain striking her at the thought of how hated Torrance truly was and how dangerous that was for Ryland. How could one man instill such fear and cause such misery and suffering? Surely, his reign couldn’t last… and it hadn’t.

But it wouldn’t be the devil whose life they took, it would be?—

The door opened and Ryland entered. Esme didn’t wait, she ran to him, flinging herself into his arms.

Ryland braced himself and caught her, her lips finding his and kissing him as though it was the last time and that frightened the hell out of him.

“Easy. Easy,” Ryland cautioned, tearing his mouth away from hers. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t lose you. You must tell everyone who you are,” she insisted.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed to sit, settling her in his lap. “What brought this on?”

She stared at his fine features, searching for something that would set him apart from Torrance, something people would notice and make them believe he wasn’t Torrance. A mark. A small scar. Something. Anything. But she saw nothing but a face that was identical to Torrance.

“Esme,” he said softly when she didn’t answer.

She sighed and confessed her troubled thoughts, starting with Brack and Brenna.

“Wait,” he said when she finished and went to move on to her thoughts on Patrick. “You’re telling me that Brenna and Brack love each other and want to be together? How could I have missed that?”

“It wasn’t something you were looking for and you don’t know Brack well. If he kept it from Torrance, he certainly could keep it from you.”

“True enough,” Ryland said, nodding. “So, you think he could be behind this plot to see me and you dead because of his love for the healer?”

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