Page 62 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

“An heir. With my return they assumed you would get with child, and they hoped to prevent that.”

“Why not tell me the truth from the start?”

“I did not know who to trust, for all I knew you could be the one who wanted Torrance dead, and for good reason, though it became obvious quite fast that it wasn’t you.”

“You could have told me before I foolishly threw myself at you to get with child.”

“That was not easy for me,” he admitted, then thought better of it.

“It was far from easy for me—" She tilted her head slightly. “Why wasn’t it easy for you?”

“I’ve said enough for now,” he said abruptly. “You should know about Purdom Keep.”

Esme grew quiet. Was it that Ryland found her as repulsive as Torrance that made it uneasy for him? But why kiss her? To keep up the pretense? She wanted to ask him, but she didn’t have the courage, thinking his response might be too hurtful to hear.

“Do you believe in ghosts, Esme?”

She sighed. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

“Is that why you ran?” he asked.

His heart had slammed into his chest when she slipped off the horse and disappeared into the woods. He had frozen for a moment, she had so shocked him. Then fear of losing her had him rushing after her, his friends calling out letting him know where to meet them. He was confident he could easily gain on her, his speed far faster than hers. He would catch her and not let her go.

“I am not even sure why I ran,” she said, thinking on her sudden action. “I had no place to go, yet I didn’t know if I was safe with you. Worries rushed through my head and I,” —she shook her head— “I reacted without thinking.”

“Don’t do it again,” he demanded.

Her brow puckered. “You sound like Torrance, cold and commanding.”

Anger sparked in his eyes, and he snapped, “I am not Torrance.”

Esme drew her head back, his remark striking like a whip… as Torrance would do.

Anger fled his eyes. “I don’t know how many times I must tell you. You have nothing to fear from me. I will not harm you.”

She gathered her courage and voiced her concern. “So, you say and while you might not intentionally harm me, this lie you live may leave you little choice and leave me more a prisoner than I had been.”

“Unlike Torrance, I speak the truth and keep my word. You need to trust me on this,” he said and with such conviction that it was difficult not to believe him.

But as Esme had said to him, she didn’t know what to believe and she certainly didn’t know who to trust.

“Let’s get back to the ghosts,” he said to avoid the more difficult conversation.

But ghosts were not her concern. There was more she wanted to learn. “Is it Torrance’s truths and secrets we search for or yours that brings us here?”

“Both,” he said, “but that talk is better left for later. Now about the ghosts.”

CHAPTER 18

“The keep has been unoccupied for some time. Rumors say it is filled with such sadness that no one can live there. Weeping is heard, fires cannot chase the cold, and shadows move where there shouldn’t be any.”

Ryland’s words echoed in Esme’s thoughts as Purdom Keep came into view, its silhouette etched starkly against a bleak winter sky. The chill in the air hinted that snow might be near. The landscape bore the waiting hush of the season’s approach, bare trees, hardened ground, and a sullen wind carrying the scent of frost.

The keep crouched atop a knoll, more like a forgotten monument than a dwelling. Its stone walls were streaked black with age, and the main tower stood proud and tall as if daring anyone to approach it. A few narrow windows gaped like empty eyes. Even the forest seemed to keep its distance, the bare limbs of the trees not brave enough to reach too close.

Esme shoulders tighten beneath her cloak, intimidated by the uninhibited edifice. “It doesn’t look abandoned,” she murmured. “It looks alive and like it’s waiting.”

Ryland gave a faint nod. “Aye, waiting for something to wake the sorrow sleeping within. It looks like the others arrived before us. They’ll have a fire waiting to warm us.”

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