Page 21 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

P atches of snow clung stubbornly to the ground, the last remnants of a light snowfall that had dusted the keep two nights ago.

Esme drew her cloak tighter across her chest as she walked the narrow path near the animal pens.

She was looking for Una and knew that this time of day she would be emptying the scrap bucket in the animal pens.

The pungent odor stopped her from going any further as did Una’s bold voice.

“That’s all there is, fellows. We had a hungry lot yesterday.”

Una emerged from behind the last enclosure, the empty scrap bucket swinging from her hand. Her braid hung damp against her cloak, her cheeks flushed from the chill. She paused briefly when she saw Esme.

“Are you looking for me, my lady?”

“I am,” Esme said, falling into step beside her as she continued walking.

“Does this have anything to do with that brute of a warrior called Hakon?” Una asked and chuckled, seeing the surprised look on Esme’s face. “Tongues have been going strong since he made his presence known and many assume it might be a barter Lord Torrance would consider.”

“Torrance did speak with Hakon about you,” Esme confirmed.

“I imagined as much,” Una muttered. She slowed her steps, then stopped entirely. Una turned to face her, her eyes angry. “He offered me to Hakon like I was—what? A prize for good behavior? Payment for a debt?”

“Nay. He said he’d think on it. That’s all.”

Una scoffed. “He has no intentions of thinking on it. His mind is made up. I hold no value to Lord Torrance but if I can benefit him in some way, he will not think twice on it.” She blew out a breath that misted in the air.

“I am nothing more than chattel to be bartered between men who think battle-forged bruises and a blade make their word law.” She nodded at Esme.

“You’re no different, bartered in marriage to benefit your clan.

We’re condemned at birth being born a woman, but I for one will not hold my tongue. I will speak my piece.”

“As you should,” Esme encouraged. “It is not fair.”

Una scoffed again. “Life is not fair, never has been. But I will no longer yield or submit obediently.”

Esme smiled. “I don’t believe you have ever yielded, Una.”

“I made sure I didn’t,” Una said, keeping her anger from flaring any further. “Because if I did yield, I would lose what little of myself I have left.”

“You have no chains to hold you. You walk freely about. Why not simply walk away from here and never return?”

She paused, glanced up at the gray sky, and shrugged.

“Where would I go? I have no coins. No clan. No name worth remembering. There is no place for a woman like me beyond this keep. You may not see the chains, but they are there. I feel them every day. Some days more than others.” Sorrow filled her eyes.

“Have your chains not grown heavier by the day, Lady Esme?”

Una continued to the kitchen while Esme remained where she was, lost in thought long after Una entered the kitchen.

Una was right. The chains could be felt, not seen, and they were heavier some days more than others.

And like Una, she had no place to go. The marriage had committed her to Torrance until death. She would never be free.

Why at that moment it should upset her, leaving her feeling hopeless, she didn’t know. She silently chastised herself for dwelling on it and forced the upsetting thought from her mind as she hurried and turned intending to take a brisk walk through the village to clear her head and heart.

She would have collided with her husband if Torrance hadn’t grabbed her by the arms and prevented their collision.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, seeing the upset in her eyes.

Caught off guard, she reverted to instinct. “Forgive me, my lord. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, wife. You are upset.” His eyes settled firmly on hers. “Why?”

Again, he caught her off guard. Why would it matter to him? He never cared how she felt about anything. Why now? The fierce look in his eyes warned he would have an answer.

“Need I remind you that I am not a patient man?” he snapped.

She went with the safest response, casting a quick glance at the gray sky. “I worry how the weather will treat us on our journey.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do you take me for a fool, wife?”

“Never, my lord,” she said, realizing she had made a mistake and worried over the consequences.

Torrance lowered his face close to hers. “Then I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth.”

“Chains!” Una shouted. “I asked her if her chains, like mine, grow heavier by the day.”

“And what was her reply?” Torrance demanded.

“I didn’t wait for one,” Una scoffed. “I already knew the answer. You are lucky that Lady Esme has the strength and courage to bear the unimaginable weight of your shackles.”

Gasps were heard from the people who had gathered upon hearing the heated exchange.

Esme froze, knowing Torrance would not let her remark go unpunished.

“It’s the stocks until morning for you,” Torrance ordered with such coldness that it shivered Esme.

“Please, my lord,” Esme pleaded, aware that Una had spoken up out of concern for her. “The nights have been bitter. No one can survive such cold.”

“She should have thought of that before opening her mouth,” Torrance said and signaled one of his warriors with a snap of his hand. “Put her in the stocks and she’s not to be released until I say so.”

“Aye, my lord,” the young warrior said and went to Una, grabbing her by the arm to take her to the stocks.

“You save me, my lord,” Una called out with a laugh. “Freezing to death is a far better fate than becoming Hakon’s wife.”

Esme was the only one who could hear the firm yet quiet oaths that fell from her husband’s lips. Esme wanted to smile with admiration for Una. She had set Torrance up perfectly for that, unless he had no intention of giving Una to Hakon.

“Since you find that fate more distasteful, Una. I will gladly give one devil to another. You shall be given to Hakon on his return.”

Una laughed. “It takes a devil to know one, Lord Torrance.”

Gasps rang out once again.

“Two nights in the dungeon with no food may have you thinking differently. She can wait for Hakon there,” Torrance ordered and cast a wicked scowl on those gathered around them. “Get back to your chores. NOW!”

Esme was relieved. Those in the kitchen would not let Una go without food. They would sneak some to her. She watched everyone disperse and as soon as she was alone with her husband, she wasn’t surprised at what he asked.

“So, what would your response have been to Una, about chains?”

Esme was prepared. “I entered this marriage freely. I wear no chains.”

Torrance leaned his head down, pressing his cheek against hers as he whispered. “Ah, but you do, wife. You are chained to me forever.”

“My lord!” Brack called out.

Torrance stepped abruptly away from her. “Go into the keep and stay there.”

Esme turned and hurried toward the keep, casting a quick glance back to see him speaking with Brack, though turning as if he knew she looked his way, and he pointed to the keep as if reminding her to do as she was told.

His whispered words still rang in her ear.

You are chained to me forever.

He sounded so much like Torrance. Had he returned to her? She couldn’t help but pray that it was an act, though for what purpose she didn’t know. She only knew it was her only hope of being free.

Esme headed to the keep but his powerful, commanding words halted her.

“brING HIM TO ME!”

Someone had been caught at something. Could it be the one who poisoned her? She turned and seeing her husband’s back to her, she hurried forward to hide on the side of a dwelling where she could watch without being seen… she hoped.

Her eyes rounded when she caught sight of a warrior, wearing the Clan MacLeish plaid being shoved toward Torrance. His bottom lip was split and bleeding, one eye swollen purple, and he cradled one arm in the other.

Brack kicked him in the back of his legs, sending him to the ground when he almost reached Torrance.

“On your knees in front of Lord Torrance,” Brack ordered, and the warrior struggled to get to his knees. “He spies on Clan Glencairn.”

Esme watched the way the warrior kept his eyes on Torrance and though he looked worried, she didn’t see the fear in him that everyone had when Torrance was about to determine one’s fate.

“I am not spying, my lord. I was just gathering the courage to present myself to you and beg for mercy for Chieftain Ryland. He is a respected leader, a good man, and beloved by his clan. He would do anything to keep his clan safe.”

“Will he die for it?” Torrance asked with such coldness that it shivered Esme.

“He still may, my lord, but if he survives, I beg of you, please allow him to lead us.”

People had gathered around, whispering and waiting to see the warrior’s fate.

“Draw and quarter him,” someone shouted.

“Make the enemy suffer,” another called out.

The voices weren’t those of the villagers. The shouts came from Torrance’s warriors. The villages held their tongues and some of the woman wiped at their eyes so their tears wouldn’t be noticed. The clan was tired of senseless death, war, and suffering.

“How is Ryland?” Torrance asked.

“His fate is still unknown, my lord, and his clan continues to pray for him.”

“I do hope he lives to face his punishment for even daring to think he had a chance against Clan Glencairn,” Torrance said, his voice raised with strength.

His warriors cheered him on, and the crowd joined in out of fear.

“Get the healer, Brack,” Torrance ordered.

Puzzled, Brack scrunched his face. “The healer?”

“Did I not speak clearly enough?” Torrance snapped harshly.

“Nay, my lord. I will fetch the healer.” Brack turned and hurried away.