Page 10 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

Brack grimaced as if the name tasted sour on his tongue. “As I’ve warned, he has a thirst for power. He’s not to be trusted.”

“His son’s betrothal celebration is in three days,” Torrance said, then took a swallow of ale.

“And you mean to go?”

Torrance nodded slowly. “Aye, I plan to attend. It’s better to stand in his hall and smile with a blade hidden than leave him wondering why I didn’t come at all. Besides, I can see who attends and learn who leans his way.”

“You’ll go with a sizeable escort,” Brack ordered.

Torrance’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a command?”

“I meant no disrespect, my lord,” Brack said with a bob of his head. “I have a duty to keep you safe, and I do not intend to fail you.”

“I know I can always count on you, Brack.”

Brack studied him for a long moment. Something wasn’t right. Torrance never praised or complimented anyone… not ever. “You’re not the same,” he said at last. “Since you returned.”

Torrance’s jaw tightened. “Maybe a day or two in the stocks would have your tongue being more respectful.”

His response was more like he expected from Torrance. He let it go—for now—but he would keep his gaze sharp and see if there was anything to his observation.

“I will see to the escort,” Brack said. “And double the guards around the keep until then. Whoever came at you today may not be finished.”

Torrance inclined his head. “Agreed. See to it.”

Brack strode to the door, pausing only once, needing to have his say. “One day, you’ll trust me with whatever truth you’re hiding. Just don’t wait until it's too late.”

The door shut behind him with a dull thud.

Torrance stood alone again, the firelight catching the small scarlet stain on the bandage around his arm. He took another swallow of ale.

Who to trust? That was the question that haunted him. He didn’t know yet who the true enemy was, but he had every intention of finding out.

His gaze turned to the fire that had burned low, casting long shadows around the room and one name came unbidden.

Esme.

The thought of her weaved through his mind like smoke he couldn’t grasp. He closed his eyes briefly, but that only made her image sharper… her hands pressing gently to his wound, the worry in her eyes, the warmth of her touch, and the way she’d looked at him as if she cared, had feelings for him.

He shifted restlessly, annoyed by the stirring in his loins.

He cursed under his breath and crossed the room, staring into the dying embers. He should be thinking of possible enemies hiding in plain sight, of the attack that could have ended him in a quiet snow-covered forest.

But his thoughts returned to her… always to her.

He had made his decision as soon as the plan had taken shape. He would have it no other way.

He ran his hand through his hair and let out a sharp breath.

He hadn’t considered her part in this nearly enough, so he believed it would be easy enough to keep his distance.

Whereas he should have considered what everyone expected of him…

an heir. Which meant intimate time spent with her and appearances needed to be made to reflect that.

He was sure it could be done, but he had not anticipated something shifting between them, slowly and subtly.

Her gaze lingered longer on him. Her words held curiosity instead of contempt.

And when she had touched him today, just a simple, careful tending, he had felt it like a blow. Just as it did when he kissed her.

He scowled at the hearth. He was letting his guard down and he couldn’t let that happen.

Esme was brave in quiet ways that others overlooked. She had watched him carefully at the grievance hearing, spoken up though surprised to be asked to do so. And today, she had not hesitated to go to him. Not as a wife playing a role, but as a woman moved by something she hadn’t expected.

He shouldn’t be thinking of this now. There was so much more to the plan that needed to be considered and followed through on.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He could not afford distraction, desire, affection, or attachment, the most dangerous distraction of all.

Especially now with secrets waiting to be revealed.

He turned from the hearth, shadows closing in around him, and thoughts of Esme growing far too dangerous. Tonight, he would take supper in his bedchamber alone and sleep alone and try to clear his head.

Torrance left his solar, shaking his head. He was already thinking how he would miss his wife sleeping beside him in bed tonight.

Esme paced in her bedchamber. She had not seen her husband since Brenna had finished tending to his wounds that she was relieved were not life threatening.

That she had taken relief in that news had completely surprised her.

There was a time she prayed for her husband’s death, but no more. What had changed?

Torrance.

He had changed. But had he? Or was he playing one of his cruel games? Could she truly trust the shift in his ways, the show of fairness now and again? If only it could be so.

She stopped pacing and sat on the edge of her bed. She had been surprised when she received word that her husband would dine alone tonight in his bedchamber and that she was to remain in her own room for the night.

She had thought, foolish as it was, that they had shared a caring moment when she had tended to his wounds.

She had felt a shift inside herself when he looked at her and his eyes seemed to intimate a caring heart.

It had sent a soft tingle through her like when he had kissed her.

And strangely enough, she wanted to pursue that feeling, understand it, and perhaps feel its pleasure again.

Insane.

She had to be insane to think that Torrance had changed. But she was stuck with him and if there was a chance, even a small one, that they could at least care for each other then perhaps the marriage would be tolerable or dare she hope a bit satisfying?

With hope in her heart, she stood. She had to go see him and see if there was even a small chance that her marriage could prove to be… a caring one.

Wearing nothing more than her nightdress, she slipped out of her bedchamber and made her way to his. She stood outside the door and listened. She didn’t hear a sound, and she wondered if he slept, exhausted from his wounds and the day’s incident.

She eased the door open slowly, not wishing to wake him if he slept. He didn’t. He stood on an angle, naked in front of the hearth. The fire’s glow cast a hazy light over his muscled body and her eyes widened when she saw his hand on his hard shaft, stroking it.

She gasped and he turned, desire hot in his eyes.

Esme didn’t wait. She ran to the bed, dropped down on it, pulled up her nightdress and spread her legs. “I am ready, my lord. Fill me with your seed.”