Page 22 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)
“It is your lucky day, warrior,” Torrance said for all to hear.
“You will return home with a message to Chieftain Ryland. Tell him I continue to be the most powerful, victorious leader—just as I was when we were young lads sharing adventures in the woods. And as his fate was in my hands then, it is in my hands now.”
“Aye, my lord,” the warrior said with a respectful bob of his head.
Esme caught sight of Brack rushing toward Brenna, a healing basket in her hand as she stepped out of a cottage.
His hand went to her arm, and he leaned his head down close to hers.
Brenna did not look at all upset or fearful that Brack touched her, and Esme wondered over it as Brack kept hold of her arm, hurrying her to Lord Torrance.
“See to his wounds, Brenna,” Torrance ordered, then turned to Brack. “Then send him on his way and make sure it is known he is not to be harmed. I want my message to reach Ryland.”
With the confrontation ending, Esme slipped away, hoping to reach the keep unnoticed. She had only taken a few steps when a rough hand suddenly clamped over her mouth and an arm locked around her waist. Her muffled cries went unheard as she was dragged back, fighting fiercely.
“Keep struggling and I’ll snap your neck here and be done with it,” the man growled into her ear.
Panic surged. She clawed at his hand, kicked at his shins, but it wasn’t enough. Then her frantic glance landed on Daniel, the young lad who’d once splattered her with mud. His eyes went wide with alarm.
“HELP! HELP! LADY ESME NEEDS HELP!” he shouted, running off.
The man cursed under his breath and tried to quicken his escape.
Esme needed to slow them down, so help could reach her. She let her body go limp, pretending to faint.
Torrance’s fierce roar split the air. “LET HER GO!”
The man froze at the sound and all color drained from his face leaving him to look like a ghost.
Torrance stood like a storm barely contained, his face a mask of lethal rage. His eyes burned cold and hard as steel, jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked. There was no mercy in his glare, only the promise of swift, brutal death. The look alone was enough to make the man shudder.
Esme felt it too, not fear, but something deeper, something that gripped her chest and stole her breath. The power in Torrance’s stance, the fury ignited by her endangerment, sent a chill through her. In that moment, she realized there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her.
And she wasn’t sure what unsettled her more, the danger… or how safe she suddenly felt.
The man yanked her upright and shifted his hand from her mouth to her neck. “Come any closer and I’ll snap her neck,” he warned, his grip tightening.
A loud thump sounded suddenly, and the man stumbled, his hand jerking away from Esme’s throat.
He cried out, staggering back, his arm still coiled around Esme’s waist.
Daniel stood several feet away, another stone clutched in his hand, his small chest heaving, and he hurled it at the man. It struck his shoulder, and his hand loosened around Esme.
Torrance lunged, closing the distance in a blink. He yanked his wife away with one hand while he drove his sword through the man with his other hand.
The man fell and Torrance caught Esme before she hit the ground.
Daniel crept closer, his face pale but determined.
“You are a true warrior, lad,” Torrance said, his voice low with pride. “Your bravery helped save Lady Esme and for that you will be rewarded.”
Daniel stuck out his small chest and grinned.
Brack stormed forward, sword still drawn, his fury barely leashed. It is the MacLeish warrior’s fault. He distracted us.” He turned and stormed off to confront the warrior.
Torrance shook his head, his jaw tight with annoyance as he tucked his wife in the crook of his arm, keeping her at his side as he went after Brack.
“You kept our attention while your accomplice crept off to abduct Lady Esme,” Brack accused. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
The warrior’s eyes widened in alarm. “Nay! I swear it on my life. I had no part in that treachery. I came to deliver the message, nothing more. Clan MacLeish has no quarrel with Lady Esme. We would never bring harm to her. That is not our way.”
“Enough,” Torrance yelled.
Esme could feel the tension held in the strength of his embrace, and the way his body remained poised between her and any lingering danger.
She didn’t want to move. Every time she breathed, she inhaled the scent of him—earth, wind, and steel—and with it came the unshakable sense that nothing could reach her while she remained in his arms.
Brack’s glare didn’t ease when he looked at Torrance. “Then how does he explain being here at the exact moment of the failed abduction?”
“I cannot,” the warrior said, and glanced at Torrance. “But I give you my word, my lord. I rode here alone. I do not know the man who attacked Lady Esme. And I would never betray Chieftain Ryland’s name by allowing such cowardice to happen under it.”
Torrance finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with steel. “Let him go. If I find he speaks falsely, he will suffer for it.”
Brack hesitated, then lowered his blade.
Esme turned her head slightly, enough to glance up at Torrance. His gaze was still on the warrior, sharp and unyielding, but when he looked down at her, it softened but only for a moment, then it turned harsh.
“You disobeyed me, wife, and you will answer for it.”