Page 37 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

Torrance said nothing, letting that pronouncement sink in.

But then, from the edge of the gathering, someone spoke up. “Forgive me, my lord, but with respect… what if it was more than curiosity? What if someone convinced her to help him? Surely, the escape was planned, not something done on the spur of the moment.”

The men were quiet again, some nodding subtly, others pretending not to hear.

“She was seen,” the warrior pressed.

“And yet none of those who supposedly saw her has stepped forward here to say so,” Brack said, his voice edged with warning.

The warrior offered a slight shrug. “Perhaps they fear being punished for speaking the truth.”

Torrance’s gaze stayed fixed on the warrior, unmoving. He wasn’t young, more seasoned with a defined scar along his jaw to prove it.

“I will not have my warriors gossiping like women,” Torrance threatened. “If any man has something worth hearing, he will say it with a name attached, not from shadows.”

Not a single man moved.

“You will all be watched,” Brack snapped. “Until we know who turned traitor.”

Torrance scanned the line of warriors once more, his eyes lingering briefly, intentionally, on the seasoned warrior. Not accusing, simply watching.

“Go,” Torrance ordered, and the men began to break off, some faster than others, boots disturbing the freshly fallen snow until there was barely any on the ground.

Torrance waited until the last of them disappeared from sight, then turned to Brack, “I didn’t recognize the one who had the most to say… the seasoned warrior.”

“A mercenary, Galen is his name, asked to join the clan after the battle with Clan MacLeish, pledged his allegiance to you and has caused no problems, up until now. He spoke boldly for one so new to the clan,” Brack said. “Perhaps he wants us looking elsewhere.”

“I thought the same,” Torrance said. “If he is the culprit, he’ll give himself away thinking he fooled us. We’ll catch him when he thinks no one is looking.” He turned and walked toward the meetinghouse, Brack following alongside him. “Has any word been heard from Hakon?”

“Nothing yet, but he’s like a beast when a bone is dangled in front of it. He won’t stop until he gets the reward.”

“Una,” Torrance acknowledged.

“He has his eyes and mind set on her. There will be no changing it. Una can be a troublesome lass. She won’t be missed.”

“So, you have made the decision for me?” Torrance snapped sharply.

“Nay, my lord, I simply see the obvious,” Brack said. “And I believe you do as well, unless…”

Torrance stopped abruptly when he reached the meeting house door. “Why hold your tongue now? It never stopped you before. Say what you intended.”

“You seem to be more tolerant of Lady Esme when before you believed her to be a poor wife and asked me to search for woman who would better suit you.”

“It took time for her to realize her duties, but now that she has, and that there is a good chance she is with child, I intend to keep her. Perhaps, like my father, a mistress or two will suit me. But not until I can put this betrayal matter to rest.”

“An heir would be good news for the clan, my lord, your father would be proud. There are a few warriors I believe trustworthy. I will speak with them privately and see if they have anything to confide.”

“Let me know anything you find out,” Torrance ordered and entered the meeting house.

The elderly warrior, Patrick, was sitting at one of the tables, his wool cloak wrapped around him.

“It is no good to starve your wife,” Patrick said defiantly.

“News spreads fast,” Torrance said, dropping down on the bench opposite Patrick.

Patrick scoffed. “It was your own powerful voice penetrating these walls that delivered the foolish news.”

“You call me foolish?” Torrance asked with a cautionary tone.

“When the name fits—wear it.”

“You’re loose with your tongue.”

“I speak the truth… do you?” Patrick asked with the quirk of his brow.

“First, you call me foolish and now a liar. Be careful, old man,” Torrance warned. “I will only tolerate so much.”

“You are like your father.”

“Finally, a compliment,” Torrance said, reaching for a chunk of bread, reminding himself that he couldn’t wait too long to get food to his hungry wife. “You knew my father?”

“Aye, I knew the evil shite.”

Torrance glared at him.

“If you want only lies, you are speaking to the wrong man.” Patrick cringed with a bit of pain as he went to lift his leg over the bench to leave.

“Stay where you are,” Torrance ordered, his tone angry enough to keep Patrick seated. “How did you know my father?”

Patrick looked at him strangely. “Do you not know that your mother was from these parts?”

Ryland failed to hide his surprise. “Nay, I did not. Nothing was ever mentioned of my mother’s family.”

Patrick scoffed again. “Being a Glencairn was all that mattered to your father. He disliked your mother’s family and that was no doubt due to a snowstorm that stranded his wife at Purdom Keep, leaving the next heir to Clan Glencairn to be born there.”

“That’s not true. All heirs of Clan Glencairn are born in the birthing room at Clan Glencairn keep.”

“That’s a lie. A snowstorm forced Torrance’s mother to give birth at Purdom Keep.”

“I am to take your word over my father’s?” Torrance asked annoyed, though such news made him wonder the truth of Torrance’s birth. “Are there any of my mother’s family left who could speak the truth to me?”

Patrick shook his head slowly. “They are all gone now.”

“Then there is no way of my knowing what is true,” Torrance said, his brow scrunching in frustration.

“There is one who may be able to help you, but you are being stubborn.”

“The Old Woman,” Torrance muttered, annoyed that everything seemed to point back to her. “She will not dictate to me.”

“Be careful, my lord, she always gets her way,” Patrick warned.

Torrance waited until Patrick left to stuff his cloth napkin with food for Esme.

He was anxious to return to her and share what news he had learned and see if in any way, they could connect it to their present problem.

And like it or not, he was going to need to consider having Esme go and speak with the Old Woman.

His own orders might help with that. He could sneak her out of the cottage, have her meet with the woman, then sneak her back in.

It was a thought, though not one that pleased him.

He kept an angry scowl on his face as he walked to the cottage so that no one would approach him and slow him down from reaching his wife. A light snow fell and with the air feeling colder than when he left the cottage this morning, he worried a snowstorm might alter any plans they might make.

He entered the cottage eager to see his wife, eager to talk with her, but mostly eager to take her in his arms and kiss her.

He entered, a strong wind along with him and he hurried to shut the door, then he turned with a smile. “I brought you fo?—”

The cottage was empty, the curtain drawn back to show the bed unoccupied.

Esme was gone.