Page 38 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

“I ordered you to remain in your bedchamber tonight,” he said, his voice raised with annoyance.

Briefly, she thought to abandon her ill-thought plan, but determination had her, answering, “I have something important to tell you.”

“It had better be very important,” he cautioned. “Enter.”

With her heart pounding fast, she pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. She let her eyes adjust, the flames from the hearth casting shadows around the room. Notseeing him by the hearth, her glance shifted to the bed. He lay there, the blankets bunched at his waist, his chest bare, one arm propped behind his head, and his muscles taut and gleaming gold in the firelight. His hair was tousled, but his eyes were clear, fixed on her. A strange tingle settled over her, sending a shiver through her.

“Say what you have to say then begone,” he ordered sternly.

She approached the bed, stopping at the foot of it. “It happened at Clan Rennoch when you went to speak with Stuart. A woman approached me, an old woman with long silver hair and draped in dark wool. Perhaps you saw her?”

He shook his head. “Nay, I don’t recall seeing such a woman.”

Esme continued. “She said something strange. That you’re searching for answers long buried in blood and vengeance. And that what you seek lies two days’ ride from Clan Glencairn. But she said that you cannot go alone. I must go with you.”

Torrance stared at her, unmoving. “And only now does this come to mind?”

“Forgive me, my lord, I forgot,” she said, reverting to her usual apologetic way when speaking with him. “Everything happened so fast. It only came back to me when I was lying in bed.”

Torrance sat up. “And that was all she said?”

“Aye,” she said, rubbing her arms, the stone floor chilling her bare feet and sending the cold seeping through her body.

He tossed the covers back some. “Get under the blankets, you’re shivering.”

Esme didn’t hesitate, the chill crawling deeper inside her. She got in bed, sitting up beside him.

He threw the blankets over her. “Do you think I search for something, Esme?”

If you’re Ryland, you might.

She let that thought linger in her mind as she said, “I don’t know, though I believe that something weighs heavily upon you since you returned from warring with Clan MacLeish.”

He kept his eyes focused on her. “Battle can do that.”

“Can battle change a man?”

“Aye,” he said, without hesitation. “Some men carry it like a second skin. Some grow quiet. Others hungrier for blood. Some don’t make it home at all… not truly.”

“Did it change you?” she probed, hoping to find out more that proved it wasn’t Torrance who returned home to her.

His eyes narrowed and he reached out and grabbed hold of her chin. “You tell me, wife. Have I changed?”

The way he squeezed her chin, the familiar challenge in his tone when he set her up to fail no matter how she responded to him, sent a fright through her. This was the Torrance she knew, and her response came easily.

“Nay, my lord, you are who you have always been.”

“And what have I always been?”

The glint in his eyes was familiar and she couldn’t believe what a fool she had been believing him other than who he was, an evil man who spun his web and captured the innocent and foolish in it so he could devour them.

“You hesitate?” he snapped.

“Nay, my lord, you have always been a good husband, a wise leader, and the bravest of warriors.”

“If that is so, then why did one of my own men betray me, try to kill me, and told me that he may have failed but the next one wouldn’t?”

CHAPTER 11

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