Page 45 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

T he Great Hall was quiet but for the crackle of the hearth fire and the occasional rustle of servants moving about.

Esme sat at a table near the heat of the hearth with her hands wrapped around a tankard of hot cider to warm her insides.

They had arrived home late yesterday, and sleep had been the only thing on their minds.

This morning Ryland got busy securing the keep and village, making sure no one could approach without warning.

She had hoped they could inquire about Verna, the woman Ida had told her about, but he couldn’t spare the time.

She tried to inquire about it herself, but people were too fearful of Torrance to answer any of her questions.

The cold had driven her back into the keep to get warm.

“You need this.”

Esme turned at Brenna’s raised voice, never having heard the soft-spoken healer raise it.

“Are you deaf, woman, I said I’m fine.”

Brenna stood beside the high table, a cloth in one hand and a small earthen bowl of salve in the other, her gaze fixed on Brack as he sat stone still at a table, his expression stern.

“You are not,” she pressed, stepping closer, her voice firm. “The wound?—”

“You have done a fine job. It will heal well.” He stood so abruptly she stumbled back a step, and he stepped closer, planting his face nearly against hers. “I don’t need fussing.”

Brenna blinked hard. “I’m not fussing.” Her voice cracked, the hurt slipping through despite her best effort. “I just—I care if you heal well as any good healer would.”

He turned to walk away, but her whispered plea stopped him. “Brack, please.”

His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn. “Leave me be, woman.”

Then he strode from the hall, the heavy door closing behind him with a final thud that left silence hanging thick in the air.

Brenna stared at the door, the cloth and bowl still in her hands.

Esme watched her. She had seen clipped exchanges between the two and then there were the moments she had caught a tender look passing between them.

She had had her suspicions, though she had said nothing to anyone.

She thought her suspicions foolish just as she doubted thinking Ryland had returned as Torrance, but she was right.

And she felt the same now, though she wondered how Brenna could love a man who made it known that marriage was not for him. Or did Brack wear a mask as well?

Brenna jumped when Esme placed a gentle hand on her arm and, tried of secrets, asked, “You have feelings for Brack, don’t you.”

Brenna shook her head. “Nay. Nay. He is?—”

“A horrible, terrible man you could never love.”

Anger sparked in Brenna’s eyes. “Brack is a good man who must—” She gasped, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

“You can trust me, Brenna, I will keep your secret.”

Brenna turned away and placed the untouched bowl on the table, before turning back to Esme. “We tried to be cautious. Quiet. A few stolen moments where no one could see. I thought we were careful.”

Esme stepped closer. “Brack’s afraid.”

Brenna nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“He’s seen what Torrance does to couples who defy his rules.

Those who dared love where he disapproved—he’s separated them, punished them, ruined them.

Brack has nothing good to say about marriage since Torrance had once told him when he decided to wed, he would choose a wife for him.

” She wiped away a few tears. It would break both our hearts if that was to happen.

I am careful of not getting with child but Brack and I both long to have bairns, have a life to love freely. ”

Esme lowered her gaze, her throat tightening. “That’s a fear I understand.”

“I weep for you being stuck with such a horrid man. While I fear what Brack and my love could cost us, I am still blessed to be loved.”

Esme hesitated, every word on the tip of her tongue threatening to expose what could not be spoken. Yet she wanted to caution her to hold onto hope. She swallowed it down and said instead, “You and Brack deserve to love openly. Don’t give up hope.”

“Hope was something I had when Lord Torrance went into battle,” Brenna said. “I prayed God would be stronger than the devil, but the devil was victorious and returned home.”

“There is always hope,” Esme said softly. “You hold fast to what you feel, even if you must keep it hidden for now. The time will come. Wait and see. It will come.”

The wind hissed along the stone walls of the keep, a low, mournful whisper that crept beneath the doors and stirred the flames in the hearth. Esme sat alone in the bedchamber waiting for Ryland. She stared into the flames, her thoughts tangled with Brenna’s tearful words.

“ The devil was victorious and returned home .”

If Torrance was so horrid that most believed him to be the devil, then who would dare go against him… those who believed they were deceptive enough, cruel enough to unseat him, to take his thrown or good people who wanted to end evil’s reign?

She didn’t want to think that Brack could be the one behind the attempts on Torrance and her life. But he was in the perfect position to do so, to convince Torrance’s warriors to betray him, and being he loved Brenna, it would give him a strong motive to do so.

She stood and started pacing, her mind working rapidly.

Then there was Clan Purdom, if any clan had a good reason for wanting revenge, it was Purdom.

Could Patrick have waited all these years, gathered warriors who would help him, who had enough hatred for Torrance’s father to see the son dead?

And what of the various clans Torrance wanted to conquer, consume, force to align with him?

Her hand flew to her chest, a sharp pain striking her at the thought of how hated Torrance truly was and how dangerous that was for Ryland. How could one man instill such fear and cause such misery and suffering? Surely, his reign couldn’t last… and it hadn’t.

But it wouldn’t be the devil whose life they took, it would be?—

The door opened and Ryland entered. Esme didn’t wait, she ran to him, flinging herself into his arms.

Ryland braced himself and caught her, her lips finding his and kissing him as though it was the last time and that frightened the hell out of him.

“Easy. Easy,” Ryland cautioned, tearing his mouth away from hers. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t lose you. You must tell everyone who you are,” she insisted.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed to sit, settling her in his lap. “What brought this on?”

She stared at his fine features, searching for something that would set him apart from Torrance, something people would notice and make them believe he wasn’t Torrance. A mark. A small scar. Something. Anything. But she saw nothing but a face that was identical to Torrance.

“Esme,” he said softly when she didn’t answer.

She sighed and confessed her troubled thoughts, starting with Brack and Brenna.

“Wait,” he said when she finished and went to move on to her thoughts on Patrick. “You’re telling me that Brenna and Brack love each other and want to be together? How could I have missed that?”

“It wasn’t something you were looking for and you don’t know Brack well. If he kept it from Torrance, he certainly could keep it from you.”

“True enough,” Ryland said, nodding. “So, you think he could be behind this plot to see me and you dead because of his love for the healer?”

“It is a possibility.”

“Then what if I give him what he wants? Give him Brenna to wed,” Ryland said as if it was easily solved.

“I don’t think that would solve the problem.” She shrugged. “But you never know. However, there is more we need to consider.”

She shared all her thoughts with him and when she finished, his first words were, “Bloody hell, I’m truly hated.”

“Torrance not you, huge distinction, which is why you must let everyone know who you are before it is too late.”

“Not until I can prove who I am and make sure I take rightful ownership of Clan Glencairn. I’ll not chance someone getting what rightfully belongs to me and making right what was done to Clan Purdom and whatever sacrifice my mother made separating Torrance and me, and my sister wherever she may be. ”

“Then finding the proof takes priority over everything,” Esme insisted.

“Aye, now that I have the keep and village secure, though I’m going to reach out to clans that have been loyal to Torrance for years—and hopefully they still are—to send some troops for added protection, then we can continue our search.

Hopefully, Verna is still alive, and she knows who the woman is who delivered the twins. ”

“I was thinking,” Esme said and gasped lightly when Ryland’s hand found its way under her garments and slowly up her leg.

He grinned. “I was thinking as well.”

“When I finish,” she said, swatting at his hand.

“You better hurry. I can’t help myself. You are just too irresistible.” He nuzzled her neck with a playful growl.

His teasing sent gooseflesh rushing over her as well as igniting her passion.

She spoke as fast as she could. “If Verna was so loyal to your mum to leave her life behind at Purdom and go with her to Clan Glencairn, then?—”

Ryland raised his head. “Then she no doubt was present for my birth.”

“I would think so.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow if she’s still with the clan,” Ryland said and stood bringing Esme to her feet. “Now off with your garments,” he ordered as he striped his off. “I intend to please the woman I love more than once tonight.”

Esme smiled as she hastily shed her garments. “That is a promise I intend to see you keep.”

The night sentinels were finishing the morning meal, some having already left eager to get some sleep. Brenna had been summoned to tend one of the warriors who had suffered an injury to his ankle and Brack sat at the table on the dais discussing the day’s duties with Ryland.

Ryland decided to test what Esme had confided in him about Brack and Brenna.

“Brenna.”