Page 8 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

Esme wondered if that was what happened to her husband. Had he participated in too many battles? Had his thoughts on war changed? Had it softened him some? That would be difficult to believe with how much Torrance desired power and influence. So, what had caused the change she had noticed in him?

“Have you seen a change in Lord Torrance since his return?”

Esme flinched, her breath catching. “I—I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to.” Brenna rose, her movements gentle. “There have been whispers, of such an important victory easing him, though many wonder how long it will last.”

Esme nodded, not trusting herself to say more but glad to learn others had spotted noticeable differences in her husband as well.

Brenna smiled. “Everyone is eager for news about a future heir.”

Esme forced a smile and lied. “I’m sure it won’t be long now.”

Brenna was delighted to hear that, and talk turned to birthing and bairns as she examined Esme’s wound.

Esme stepped out into the snow once more, the chill nipping at her cheeks.

The quiet from Brenna’s cottage clung to her, but her thoughts churned louder than ever.

She hadn’t learned as much as she hoped to from Brenna.

So, she made no move to return to the keep.

Instead, her steps took her in the opposite direction, through the village and past the thinning rows of cottages until she reached the older structure near the edge of the trees—the one where the women stayed.

The women Torrance kept to satisfy his warriors after a victorious battle. Knowing the willing women were there waiting to please them made the men fight harder for victory or so Torrance claimed.

However, Torrance had made it clear—more than clear—that she was never to speak with them.

But what choice did she have if she wanted to learn all she could about the battle that brought her husband home a different man?

She inhaled an encouraging breath, then knocked once and pushed the door open before nerves could catch her.

Inside, warmth and the scent of stale ale clung to the air and mingled with heavily sweet scents and drying herbs.

Several women occupied the large room, most sleeping, while three women sat near the hearth, two mending garments, one brushing out her long hair.

They turned at her entrance, startled at first, then wary.

“Lady Esme,” one said, setting her needle aside slowly and standing respectfully. She had dark hair, kohl-smudged eyes, and a voice that had likely coaxed endless favors from battle-weary men. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I don’t mean to disturb anyone. I won’t stay long,” Esme said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “I… I have a few questions.”

The three women exchanged apprehensive glances.

With her heart pounding, Esme asked, “I won’t ask you to betray any confidences, and I will speak of my visit to no one. I was wondering if you could tell me… after the last battle, did anything seem… unusual about Lord Torrance?”

“Unusual? How?” asked the second woman, fair-haired and younger, still running the brush through her curls.

“Was he overly quiet? Did he… speak of anything strange?”

“Overly quiet? Strange?” the third one said with a dry laugh. “He never said a word. He’d be rough with us before spilling his seed and be on his way when done. I doubt he knows any of our names or which one of us he poked.”

Esme could not keep her cheeks from flushing deep red.

The dark-haired woman scrunched her brow.

“Come to think of it. He was rough and sometimes cruel, when he took what he wanted. You knew when he was in the mood, and you made certain to please him. After the battle, though…” She trailed off, eyes narrowing as she remembered.

“He didn’t want anyone of us. He just sat at our fire one night, watching. Listening.”

“And when I spoke to him,” the younger woman added, “he snapped at me, telling me he was there just to hear our voices, and we were to continue to talk. It made no sense. He had never done that before that night.”

“That’s true,” the dark-haired woman said. “It was odd, like he was trying to learn something from us. After a while he got up and without saying a word walked away.”

“Something’s changed in him,” the young woman murmured. “We all could see it.”

Esme’s fingers curled into the wool of her cloak. “You’re all certain about this?”

They all nodded, as if fearful of saying anymore, the firelight casting their faces in shifting shadows.

The door slammed open, cracking against the wall.

Torrance stood in the threshold, eyes blazing, snow clinging to his shoulders. His gaze locked on Esme.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

The air turned to ice.

The women scattered back, falling silent. Esme’s breath caught, but she forced herself to stand tall, lifting her chin.

“I asked a question,” he said, his voice low, dangerously controlled.

“I wanted to speak with them,” Esme replied, heart hammering.

“I forbade you to speak with them,” he snapped, stepping inside. “You defy me by coming here and speaking with them.”

“Forgive me, my lord,” she said with a tremble in her voice.

His jaw clenched. “What reason would you have for coming here?”

His question caught her off guard, though she should have been prepared for it. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she rushed to think of a reasonable excuse. It struck her then.

“This is better left in private, my lord,” she said, lowering her glance.

Annoyance sparked in his eyes. He stepped away from the door. “Outside. Now!”

As Esme stepped outside, she heard her husband issue orders to the women.

“If you discuss a word of what was said with my wife, I will see you suffer endlessly for it. Do you understand?”

Esme heard several strong ‘ayes,’ more than three.

“My solar,” he said and took hold of her arm.

She could not help but keep pace with him, he practically dragged her alongside him. The snow fell lightly over them as she thought of what she would say to him. She worried that her explanation might cause her more harm than good, but then it was how she would explain it to him that would matter.

They reached the keep in silence, the heavy door groaning as Torrance shoved it open.

Snow dusted their cloaks, melting in cold rivulets as they stepped inside.

Esme had barely crossed the threshold when Torrance hurried her through the keep past startled servants straight to his solar.

He rushed her into the room, slamming the door behind them with a force that made her jump.

“What reason could there possibly be for you talking to those women?” he demanded.

She responded quickly. “It was what you said to me that made me seek out the women.”

“You blame your disobedience on me?” he snapped.

“Nay. Nay, my lord,” she apologized, quickly. “You pointed out that I don’t understand why I fail you, so how can I rectify my failings. The women are experienced. I assumed they could help me understand what I was doing wrong.”

His eyes heated with anger. “You spoke to them of intimate details?”

She shook her head rapidly. “Nay, my lord. I simply asked what I could do to please my husband as was my duty.”

“Accepting me between your legs is all you need to do,” he admonished.

“I have tried, my lord, but…” She lowered her head unable to look at him.

He snapped at her again. “But what?”

She raised her head and if it wasn’t for the spark of concern she saw in his eyes, she probably wouldn’t have had the courage to say, “You turned me away last night when finally…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say the rest, worried how he would react.

“Finally, what?” he demanded. “Tell me,” he ordered sharply when she failed to respond immediately.

She rushed the words out. “I felt your need against me, my lord.”

The thin lines in his brow deepened as he narrowed his eyes, then as if he understood, his eyes turned wide. Though he quickly narrowed them again.

Esme jumped when his fisted hand pounded the table so hard, she heard the wood crack.

“I will hear no more from you about it,’ he ordered, his voice edged with steel. “And you are never, ever to go and speak to those women again.”

Esme resorted to her usual response. “As you say, my lord.”

He took a step toward her. “I mean it, Esme. Those women are clever with their words and use what they hear to their advantage. You risk more than you understand.”

“They were kind,” she said.

His eyes darkened. “Women like that are never kind, Esme. They use what they learn to survive, gain favor, and provide information for coins. They are not to be trusted.”

“Yet you keep them here.”

“Out of necessity and for now.” He took another step forward, his body brushing hers. “For your safety you will speak to no one else about me—about us. Not the women, not the healer, not anyone. I will have your word on it.”

She was shocked seeing the depth of concern in his eyes and her response came easily. “Aye, my lord, you have my word.”

“Leave me now,” he ordered, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he turned away from her, then quickly turned back. “Do whatever wifely thing you do to keep yourself busy and cause no more trouble.”

Esme nodded and left the room.

Torrance wanted to roar out his anger but instead he clenched his hands and growled low in his chest. Esme’s unexpected meddling could foil the whole plan.

He might have no choice but to tell her the truth.

But how much of the truth could he admit to her, dare admit to her.

He knew this would not be easy, but he also knew it was a risk worth taking and that was all because of Esme.

Though he never expected to face the problem she had presented him with, too embarrassed to go into detail.

No man wanted to admit when his manhood failed him.

And while Esme couldn’t bring herself to say it, she made the problem known.

This dilemma was definitely going to get worse if he didn’t do something about it soon.