Page 24 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

T he sky stretched gray above them, a slate canvas that promised winter had no intention of delaying its arrival.

Esme rode beside Torrance, her mare’s hooves crunching through the hardened earth.

They had been traveling since early morning and not at a leisurely pace.

They had covered much ground and would probably make camp not long from now.

She recalled his warning just before they departed.

“This journey is a dangerous one, especially with those meaning us harm. You will stay close to me, not leave my side.”

Several of Torrance’s warriors kept watch. None spoke, they were too busy being vigilant. The road north was long and uncertain, and none among them dared take a chance with their safety.

Esme pulled her cloak tighter around her as a cold wind cut across the open land.

She wanted to discuss last night with him, but she hadn’t gotten the chance.

He was gone from their bed when she woke this morning, and he had been too busy seeing to their departure to catch even a brief word with him.

And now was not the time with his warriors so close around them.

“You never did tell me,” she said, breaking the quiet and shifting in her saddle. “What did the old woman mean when she said what you searched for was buried in blood and vengeance?”

Torrance didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed ahead, but he had caught her shift in her saddle.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he all but barked at her, annoyed at himself for being the fault of her discomfort. “And do not lie to me.”

“A bit, but only since traveling a while,” she admitted and hurried to move their discussion away from anything intimate so the warriors would not hear. “I am curious. Tell me what the old woman meant.”

“What I search for… what drives all this… it was born in blood, and vengeance buried so deep, even I don’t know all the truths.”

Secrets intrigued but they also could prove dangerous, so she asked, “What secrets were buried?”

“That,” he said, meeting her gaze, “is what I aim to find out.”

A chill ran through her, not from the wind, but from the weight of what she heard in his voice.

Not fear, nor doubt, but purpose sharpened by something far more important than duty.

And still, she wondered… was she riding beside a man searching for truth, or one who feared what truth might do to him?

Silence fell between them again. The chill wind tugged at Esme’s hood as her gaze drifted to Torrance, or rather, to the way he scanned the land around them.

His head would shift slightly at any sound.

His shoulders would tense, then ease, when they passed a grove of trees or a formation of boulders.

He was ever alert, as if expecting trouble to rise from the land itself.

She angled her horse a bit closer to him, her concern growing. “You keep watch as if you expect an attack.”

He didn’t answer right away. “One can never be too careful or too complacent.”

“But you didn’t bring many men. If you truly feared an attack, wouldn’t you have brought more?”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it never reached his eyes. “There are more than you see.”

She frowned, glancing behind them. “What do you mean?”

“There are men who ride a distance ahead and behind,” he said. “Not close, nor obvious. They stay in the woods and the shadows. No one will surprise us.”

It should have comforted her. Instead, it made her all the more aware of how dangerous this journey could become and just how vigilant he was in keeping her safe.

He had not let her stray far from him and she had done her best not to.

It continued to amaze her how concerned he remained for her safety. He had never been that way with her.

Esme let her gaze drift ahead, the path winding like a ribbon through the bleak landscape. She couldn’t say why, but something about this journey, this search, felt like the start of a reveal of things kept secret far too long.

“Stay close,” Torrance said.

Her husband had reminded her of that countless times since they had begun their journey. That he intended to protect her was obvious and oddly enough, it made her feel safer.

It wasn’t long before they found a clearing tucked in the forest and set up camp. Esme couldn’t be more relieved after a day of riding endlessly with barely an occasional respite.

The campsite fires crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the clearing.

Night had settled deep around them, the sky a dark veil studded with stars.

The small camp was quiet, but not unguarded.

The men moved with the practiced ease of warriors who knew peace was often a moment’s illusion.

Swords remained close and eyes kept watch on the trees beyond the firelight.

Esme sat on the thick blankets that had been laid out for her and Torrance, the fire warming her face as the cold night pressed in around them. She found comfort in the quiet, in the muted sounds of horses shifting, leather creaking, the low murmur of warriors sharing brief words before sleep.

Torrance joined her without a word, sitting beside her on the blankets.

The firelight danced over the hard angles of his face, and she let her gaze linger there.

Though she told herself she was being foolish, hope continued to let her be a fool and think Torrance was anyone other than her husband.

She couldn’t find anything different in his face and who besides him had such bold green eyes?

Ryland.

His and Torrance’s eye color were identical, but how did that help her? The rumor could be true. Torrance and Ryland could be half-brothers. And it would make it that much easier for Ryland to assume Torrance’s identity.

Miracle.

She was hoping for a miracle.

“Are you still… uncomfortable?” he asked quietly.

She smiled softly. “The cold that seeps through the blanket eases it.”

“You should not be riding?—”

“It is not that bad. A minor irritation, that’s all,” she assured him surprised again that he showed concern. Torrance certainly wouldn’t care. He would tell her it was a woman’s lot in life, and she should bear it. So, her suspicions continued to nag at her. Who truly sat beside her?

Before he could say more, she asked, “You said you expect to uncover truths on this journey. What else do you expect?”

He turned his head toward her. “Secrets. And secrets rarely come without a price.”

She held her hands out to the fire. “Hopefully, not too high of a price.”

Torrance reached out and took her hands in between his two.

She caught the gasp that rose up in her throat before it could escape, the reaction of the friction of his warmth against her cold startling her.

It settled a warmth low in her belly that startled her even more.

Why had her husband suddenly become appealing to her?

It continued to frighten, delight, and confuse her, and she had no idea what to do about it.

“We need to sleep. We leave early,” Torrance said, releasing her hands. “I small, insignificant clan, Clan Stott, will provide shelter for us tomorrow night. So, you need only suffer the cold ground tonight.”

She spoke without thinking. “You will keep me warm enough.”

He leaned his head close to hers. “You like my warmth, wife?”

She would not deny the truth. “I have come to favor it.”

She spotted the shift in his eyes and knew he would kiss her, and she could not believe that she welcomed it.

He leaned closer to steal a kiss, a safe one since it could go no further but a kiss here in the camp, when suddenly a sound tore through the night. The roar was so loud, so inhuman, that Torrance shot up on his feet, dragging his wife along with him.

Esme planted herself against his side, her heart slamming against her chest in fear.

Torrance had his sword in hand, his warriors following suit, their hands going to their swords without hesitation once on their feet.

A warrior burst into the firelight, breathless and bloodied but recognized, the warriors’ eyes rounding at the sight of Torrance.

“We’ve been betrayed!” he said, his breath labored. “By our own kind. I barely got away!”

Shock and uncertainty had warriors backing away from each other. Barely, a moment later, a warrior rode into camp from the opposite end, reining his horse hard, and yelling, “We’ve been betrayed.”

Torrance’s eyes narrowed, as he looked at every warrior in camp. “If you mean to betray me, do so now.”

Not one warrior stepped forward.

Even as he spoke, the night filled with distant shouts and the clash of steel, the sounds growing.

Torrance turned to his men. “We separate in twos, so they don’t know who to follow. Head back to the keep and whoever gets there first alerts Brack. Have him send only the most trusted warriors to search for those who don’t make it back and to see who we lost and who it was who betrayed us.”

His warriors hurried to do as he commanded.

Torrance summoned one of his warriors and they shared whispered words before he took off. Then he turned to Esme, his hand already reaching for her. “We ride one horse.” Her puzzled look had him explaining. “They will have no interest in following one rider.”

She nodded, understanding that they would be searching for Torrance and her, riding two horses, not one.

The warriors began to disperse but not before Torrance’s horse was brought to him.

He lifted her up onto his stallion, then swung himself up behind her and tucked her tight against him.

She wrapped her arm around his waist as he led them into the forest, the firelight fading behind them as the darkness closed in around them.