Page 20 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

“She can try.” Hakon looked over. “You’ve been slow in keeping your word, Torrance, whereas I am ready to keep mine and fight for you when necessary.”

“An unexpected and dire situation has come up,” Torrance said, realizing Hakon’s unexpected visit just might prove beneficial.

“Tell me,” Hakon said eagerly.

“There have been attempts made on my life.”

Hakon laughed. “That happens to me often. All men of power have that problem. Kill a few people, innocent or not, and it will stop.”

“Nay, I believe the two men left and fled north. They posed as monks.”

“I could find out about them.”

“What will that cost me?” Torrance asked but already knew.

“A wedding when I return.”

“Una was taken prisoner after a battle. She does not beg for freedom. She watches, listens, and she learns. I have no doubt she plans to attempt to escape one day.”

“Perfect,” Hakon said with a grin. “I want a wife who’ll keep me sharp. Just make sure she doesn’t escape before I return.”

“We’ll see what information you bring me.”

Hakon narrowed his eyes. “Careful, Torrance. I know how much you like games, but I didn’t ride all this way to play games.”

“And I won’t fail to keep my word,” Torrance warned.

“I want Una, no other. Don’t disappoint me, or you won’t like the consequences.”

Torrance leaned closer to Hakon and kept his voice low but powerful. “Don’t threaten me or you and your men will never make it home.”

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting shifting shadows across the stone walls of Torrance’s bedchamber.

Esme sat on the bench beside the hearth, a shawl wrapped around her, staring into the flames.

She had no chance all day to speak with her husband to find out what he spoke with Hakon about.

She feared her husband may have agreed to give Una to Hakon and it disturbed her to think that it could be Una’s fate.

The door suddenly swung open, causing Esme to hurry off the bench and turn to see her husband enter.

He had a commanding presence that always managed to fill a room when he entered it.

His broad shoulders were always drawn back, his chin held at a slight angle, and his distinct green eyes seemed to devour everything around him as if nothing could be hidden from him.

She tucked her shawl tighter around her as if somehow it could shield her.

Torrance shoved the door closed as he said, “You should be in bed.”

“I wished to speak with you.”

“Did I just say you should be in bed, wife?”

She almost cringed at his familiar sharp tongue.

This was when she thought herself mad for even considering Torrance was Ryland.

But it still continued to nag at her. For now, she would be cautious and that meant knowing she would get nowhere arguing with him.

And he certainly wouldn’t tolerate her disagreeing with him, so she dropped her shawl on the bench and took quick steps to the bed and slipped beneath the blankets.

However, she bravely said, “We can talk in bed.”

Torrance glanced her way, thinking how unwise it was to keep her in his bed, and yet how right it felt.

Besides, with threats on both their lives, he felt better keeping her there with him.

He also slept better with her cuddled against him.

Though he was treading a very thin line with her and he wasn’t sure what would happen when it snapped.

Esme sat up in bed and tried averting her eyes as her husband shed his garments, but it wasn’t easy.

He was a fine specimen of a man, strong and muscled, born of endless time on the practice field and in battle.

She squinted for a moment, the fire’s light catching his naked body, highlighting it, and she thought there was something different about him, but she couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

Torrance turned his back on his wife, seeing how focused she was on him, and it wasn’t passion he saw in her eyes. She looked puzzled, and that was not good.

He dropped his garments on top of a wood chest and turned her attention elsewhere. “What did you want to talk about.”

Esme shook her head, clearing it. “Did you tell Hakon you would consider giving him Una?”

Torrance walked to the bed. “I did.”

Esme stretched out beneath the blankets as Torrance joined her in bed. “I don’t believe that is a wise thing to do.”

He turned his gaze on her, his brow lifted in challenge as he stretched out beside her. “Why not?”

“Hakon is not a good man. He may be useful, even honorable in his own way, but he’s cruel. You can see it in the way he looks at people, in the sharpness of his tongue, in how he enjoys being feared.”

Torrance’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “And Una is gentle and as sweet as a spring bloom?”

“You know she isn’t,” Esme said, worry in her words. “But that doesn’t mean she should be used to tame a brute.”

“I’m not using her,” he said, his voice firm. “Hakon asked for a wife. Una is no meek lass who’ll weep over harsh words. She’s sharp-witted, strong and, I suspect, no stranger to men like him. If anything, she might be the one woman capable of being his wife.”

Esme turned on her side to face her husband. “That may be, but just because she can fight him doesn’t mean she should have to. You don’t pair two blades and expect peace.”

Torrance turned his head toward her. “You see danger. I see potential. She’s spent her life wielding more than kitchen knives. She thrives on challenge, and she has no illusions about men or marriage.”

“So, for that she should be stuck in a heartless and brutal marriage?” Esme asked, softly.

“Do you empathize with her, wife?”

She almost bit her tongue for having spoken so foolishly and for finding herself growing more comfortable with her husband that she had voiced her opinion without thinking about it.

“Do you believe you are in a heartless and brutal marriage?” he asked.

Esme’s stomach churned anxiously, and she met his eyes, surprised not to see anger in them but more curiosity.

However, she decided not to take any chances. “Nay, my lord, I am grateful I have a good husband.”

“You do not think me heartless or brutal?”

“Any powerful, respected leader must have such traits to lead successfully, my lord.”

“You speak of a leader. I speak of a husband. Do you care for me, wife? Does your heart feel for me?”

“Does it matter?” she asked befuddled by his question.

Torrance had made it known from their first meeting that he expected her to do her duty as a wife. That he would tolerate nothing less. So, why ask her that?

He tossed the question back at her. “Does it matter to you?”

Did she dare voice her thought? Was he setting a trap for her? Waiting for her to say something foolish so he could berate her for it?

Her stomach continued to roil, and her heart beat a bit faster, thinking about what she should say, and she couldn’t hide her surprise when his hand reached out slowly and stroked her cheek.

“Am I such a heartless husband, wife, that you fear answering me?”

“Nay, husband, I cannot answer since I truly do not know you?”

A scowl crossed his face.

She hurried to explain. “Only now, since you returned home from battle, do I feel that I am getting to know you. Before that your words were few to me and we spent little time together.”

She didn’t think it was wise to remind him that his words had been mostly hurtful and demeaning from the start. But then maybe it wasn’t that he failed to realize that. Maybe he didn’t know because it wasn’t Torrance lying beside her in bed. Did she dare continue to think that?

He ran his finger faintly and slowly across her lips. “It is time we change that, wife.”

His hand fell away, replaced by his lips that brushed across hers as faintly as his touch.

His whisper, soft kiss sent a pleasant shiver through her. That her body responded so easily, instinctively both pleased and frightened her, for she still didn’t know if she could truly trust him.

He left her lips tingling as he rolled on his back. “Go to sleep, wife. You need rest. We leave in two days on our journey.”

Esme turned away from him not knowing what to make of him. At times, he was a far different man than the one who left her and at other times she could spy the ruthlessness in him.

Who was he? And what would she do if she discovered it was a stranger in her bed?

She knew little of Ryland, had seen him a handful of times, had maybe two brief encounters with him.

He seemed mannered and kind enough, but he was still a stranger to her and one who looked far too familiar to Torrance.

But her greatest worry… what would her fate be at his hands.