Page 5 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

She hurried and took a seat, grateful to hide her trembling hands beneath the table.

Torrance walked slowly around the room to come to a stop behind her. He leaned down, his face close to hers, his arm brushing her shoulder as he rested one hand on the table.

Esme could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and she silently warned herself to remain strong.

“Did you miss me, wife,” Torrance whispered in her ear.

She couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her, and she quickly said, “Aye, my lord.”

“Do you tremble with passion for me, wife?”

“Of course, my lord,” she said, and her stomach turned at the lie.

“Then why are you not with child?” he demanded and pounded his fist on the table.

Esme’s whole body cringed. “I don’t know what I do wrong, my lord.”

Her body remained tense even though he left her side and walked around the table to sit opposite her. She knew he wasn’t finished with her, and she waited anxiously for what would come next.

“It is not a difficult task to lie there and submit to your husband,” he reprimanded.

Esme didn’t know how to respond to him. Did he forget what happened each time she had done just that?

He pounded the table again. “Answer me, wife?”

She swallowed back her fear and did her best to place the blame on herself. “I don’t know what more to do, my lord. I am ignorant of the intimate ways between a husband and wife.”

His puzzled look baffled her, and he appeared ready to speak then stopped for a moment.

“You will come to my bed prepared to get with child when I summon you,” he ordered.

“Aye, my lord,” she said fear curling in her stomach of when that time would come.

“Fetch a cloak,” he snapped. “You will be accompanying me through the village this morning.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Hurry!” he ordered when she didn’t move.

In her rush to leave him, she stumbled, though righted herself.

“Good, Lord, woman, don’t tell me I have a clumsy wife,” he called out. “Watch how you walk.”

“Aye, my lord,” she said, wishing she never had to say those words again yet facing years ahead with those words spilling endlessly from her lips.

“You will not leave my side,”Torrance ordered, after stepping outside, a cold wind circling them.

Esme nodded. “As you say, my lord.” Another never-ending response.

Torrance took her hand to walk down the stairs, startling her. He would grab her by the arm often enough, but never had he taken her hand in his.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“The cold, my lord,” she lied.

He let go of her hand to grip the edge of her cloak. “Go and have a servant fetch your fur-lined cloak now. I will wait here for you.”

She nodded and hurried into the keep and spotting Gwen, the one servant who didn’t fear to speak to her, asked, “Gwen, please fetch my fur-lined cloak.”

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