"'Tis me, Mariana, m'lady. I had a question about supper."
"I'll be right out."
"We'll continue this discussion later," Torrin said in a hushed tone so the maid wouldn't hear.
"'Haps." Jessie gave him a warning look, but he wanted naught more than to kiss her and carry her to that bed and prove to her she was not barren. But this was a tricky situation he'd never imagined before.
What if she truly was barren? Would he marry her anyway and give up the chance of producing an heir?
Chapter Seven
Torrin stood on the castle's battlements overlooking the sea, his mind consumed by what he'd learned earlier. The bleak sky with the low-hanging gray clouds and cool, damp air that followed the storm didn't help his mood. He glanced aside when Iain came up the steps.
"What's wrong with you?" his friend asked.
Torrin was unsure if he wanted to reveal how he felt at the moment.
"Your frown tells me the lass is proving impossible to seduce." Iain grinned.
"She is a wee bit stubborn, but so am I."
"'Tis true. Once you set your mind to something, you never give up until you have it."
Torrin nodded, for he meant to have her. "I'll tell you something if you promise not to tell her or anyone about it."
Iain sobered and leaned an arm against the shoulder-high merlon of the stone battlements. "Of course. When have I ever been a gossip?"
Torrin drew in a deep breath of the cool salt air. "She thinks she is barren and refuses to marry me because she knows I need an heir."
"Damnation," Iain muttered, frowning. "She thinks this because of the trial marriage to MacBain?"
"Aye. They were intimate for three months and no bairn resulted, so MacBain abandoned her for someone else."
"What if 'tis true? You cannot deny that you need an heir."
"Indeed. The clan elders may have my head if I knowingly marry a barren lady. But at the moment, I want her more than an heir."
"Saints! You've gone and fallen in love with her, as I feared." Iain gave an amused smirk.
Torrin shrugged, but deep down he was certain his friend was right. "I know not. I have never felt this way before."
"I have," Iain admitted, though he did not appear comfortable doing so.
"You? In love?"
"Aye, she was a lovely lady, but she loved someone else and went off to marry him instead. End of story." Iain shrugged.
"When was this?"
"Years ago. It amounts to naught now. I've almost forgotten her, but at the time, 'twas hellishly hard to give her up."
"I'm surprised you've never told me about this before. We've known each other since we were lads."
"Aye, but there were times we didn't see each other for many months at a time. Besides, 'tis not something a man likes to talk about."
"You're right." Torrin sucked in a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clear his head. "I know not what to do."
"The answer will come to you, I'm certain. 'Haps in the middle of the night. Or in the morn."
Torrin nodded as he gazed down at the beach where they'd spent several enjoyable moments talking and shooting the bow. And wrestling. That had been his favorite part, aside from the kiss. He relished anything that put him into physical contact with her.
"Did you at least steal a kiss?" Iain asked.
Torrin's gaze darted to his. He wasn't the type to brag or share too much of his exploits.
"Ah, you did, aye?" Iain guessed. "I trust the kiss measured up to your expectations?"
"Surpassed them by miles." That kiss was the single best thing he'd yet experienced in his life. When he imagined taking her to his bed, he could scarce breathe. He was certain the physical pleasure would be astonishing, but the experience would be about far more than that for him. 'Twas as Iain had said—he was falling for her. He only hoped she would feel the same way. If that kiss was any indication, she was strongly attracted to him. That was a start. Now, he but needed to show her how he felt about her, prove himself trustworthy and convince her to not worry about the future.
"I'd rather not think about the problems anymore," Torrin said. "I just want to… spend time with her."
"Aye. 'Tis what you should do, then," Iain said.
Torrin wanted to make her forget all about this hindrance, if that's what it truly was. It could be a lot of worry for naught. He wanted to learn everything about her. And, aye, he had to admit he wanted to explore every inch of her body and make love to her for hours. After that kiss, 'twas clear to him they could set the bed sheets afire.
He wanted to make her smile and laugh and sigh and cry out his name in pleasure.
"I have to figure out how to make her forget her troubles and have some fun," Torrin said.
Iain grinned. "'Tis the best solution I've ever heard."
"I have an idea for a gift that might cheer her up."
***
"I need for you lads to do something for me," Torrin said in a low voice to three of his men, Sim, Luag and Gordon, in the courtyard that evening.
"Aye, Chief," Sim responded, his dark eyes glinting curiously in the dim glow of the sunset.
"Tell no one of your assignment," Torrin warned them.
They nodded in a very solemn manner.
Torrin lowered his voice even more. "One of my distant cousins in Scourie raises deerhound pups. His name is Angus MacLeod. I want you to go get one for me. A healthy pup with a lot of gumption." He held out his hand, filled with silver coins.
Luag quirked his brows as if Torrin had gone daft, but accepted the money.
"'Twill be a gift for the lady. She lost her beloved dog not long ago."
"Ah." Luag nodded as did the other two.
He hoped the pup would make her smile. She didn't smile nearly often enough.
"Also, while you're out, make sure MacBain and his men haven't returned. You may run into Struan, Fionn, and the MacKay guards who escorted them south. You can leave in the morn after breaking your fast. If anyone asks, you're simply going to look for your clansmen. I want the pup to be a surprise for her."
The three smiled and nodded their agreement. They were well aware that Torrin was trying to convince Jessie to marry him. He hoped this would work to soften her up a bit more. If not, he knew not what he would do next.
***
The following afternoon, Torrin walked along the battlements, his gaze scanning over Balnakeil Bay, the beach, and the sand dunes leading out to the headland. No one was about. He was disappointed to see that Jessie was not sitting on the beach today. He had scarcely seen glimpses of her since their serious discussion yesterday. She was well and truly avoiding him now.
Although Torrin liked Dirk MacKay just fine, he hoped the man didn't return soon. He needed time to grow closer to Jessie first. Dirk would wonder what in blazes Torrin was doing, staying this long. His excuse for now was that he was protecting Jessie in the event MacBain returned, wanting revenge. Once Dirk, Keegan, and the rest of them showed up, he would no longer have an excuse to stay for they could protect Jessie. Of course, Dirk had left Erskine and a garrison to protect both her and Dunnakeil, but Torrin wanted to help out.
His stay here wasn't just about convincing Jessie to marry him anymore. He was feeling something he'd never felt before. He didn't know what he would've done if MacBain had spirited her away and married her. Probably killed the whoreson.
But he didn't want to kill anyone. He much preferred that MacBain stay far away.
Torrin paced along the battlements to the opposite side of the castle where he gazed out over the green hills dotted with gray rocks and black-faced sheep. He remembered his last conversation with Jessie. It had been beyond serious, which had obviously caused her anxiety and worry about her future. What they needed was to simply relax and enjoy themselves. Life did not have to be solemn all the time.
He'd reveled in the wrestling match and the archery lessons he'd given her the day before, but most of all, he'd relished
the kiss. 'Haps he shouldn't have kissed her in the kirk, but 'twas his only opportunity and he didn't want to pass it up.
'Haps that bastard MacBain had not bedded her very many times within those three months. Sometimes many months or a year passed before a woman was with child. Dirk and his wife, Isobel, had been married seven months and she didn't appear to be with child when they'd stopped by Munrick a few weeks ago.
Although he wanted children, Torrin would still marry Jessie even if she was barren. He wouldn't tell her that. Not now, anyway. She wouldn't accept his decision. She would think he was being impulsive or that mayhap he would change his mind later and send her away. But the truth was he was well and truly smitten with her.
And, nay, he would not change his mind later. He had never felt the way he did now about a woman. He had not lost interest in her during the seven months since he'd met her. In fact, his interest had only grown and deepened from instant physical attraction to something powerful he'd never experienced before.
He frowned down at the ground far below and the woman dashing away from the castle. Was that Jessie? Her head was covered, hiding her hair, and she faced away from him. But the woman was tall and slim, and she moved exactly like Jessie. She must have slipped past the guards and out the postern gate, and was now headed away from castle, in the opposite direction from the bay. Where was she going? She normally walked on the beach, but she was not headed that way now. Nor was she walking at a leisurely pace. Nay, she was practically running. When she glanced back over her shoulder once, a lock of her copper hair gleamed in the sunlight, and he got a glimpse of half her face. Aha, 'twas indeed Jessie. Why was she slipping away?
Trying to escape him? Or had something happened?
Torrin rushed down several sets of winding steps until he reached the bailey. Not having a key to the postern gate, he asked the guards to open the main portcullis for him. They also gave him his basket-hilt broadsword, for he might need it to protect Jessie.
Once outside the walls, Torrin ran toward the east. She had already disappeared from sight, difficult in this flat landscape near the shore, but gorse bushes grew here and there in small groves. Once he passed a group of them, he saw her plaid-covered head disappear behind another cluster of bushes. He was determined to catch up to her without her seeing him. She wasn't traveling toward the village, and he needed to find out what she was up to.
They must have walked for more than a mile when he lost sight of her. Muttering curses, he glanced this way and that, then ran forward. The rocky shore and a drop off lay ahead. Had she gone in that direction? Saints! Had she fallen off the cliff?
His heart rate soaring toward the sky, he quickened his pace.
Once at the edge, he saw it wasn't a cliff, but simply a steep bank of sand about thirty feet high. Beyond it was a small golden sand beach with black boulders protruding here and there from the sand. He lay down and belly-crawled to the edge so she wouldn't notice him. Aye, indeed, she was descending a rock and sand path along the edge of the bank. What in blazes was she doing here?
He scooted sideways and hid himself better behind a clump of thistles. He was wicked for spying on her, but he had to protect her. Not that he truly expected anyone to be all the way out here, a mile or more from the village and further than that from the castle.
She strolled along the wee beautiful beach, which was enclosed and cut off from other areas of the coast. Cliffs jutted out on each side, making it very secluded. He could understand why she loved this place. 'Twas one of the loveliest spots he had yet seen. To add to its appeal, a slight breeze blew in off the sea, but 'twas a warm summer day.
Jessie perched on one of the boulders and gazed out to sea. Was she daydreaming? He hoped she was thinking of him.
Moments later, she got to her feet and walked further along the shore, her gaze searching the tops of the cliffs and sand bank. He ducked. Had she seen him or sensed his presence? He kept his head down and hoped she didn't notice his plaid.
She hastened to the far end of the strip of sand, which was more concealed behind the large rocks. Though she disappeared from sight, he hesitated to crawl closer to the edge for fear she might spot him.
She appeared again, wearing only her white smock. Hiking it to her knees, she ran into the water.
"Saints," he hissed. She was going swimming? He chuckled, but forced himself to be quiet. Not that she could hear him over the waves crashing into the boulders below. What an adventurous spirit she had. It only made him fall harder for her.
How lovely she looked, her fiery red hair streaming down her back as she waded deeper into the water reflecting the blue sky. She disappeared behind a black boulder.
A swim would be perfect right now. While she was hidden from view, he took the opportunity to slip down the bank along the narrow trail she had used earlier. He hastily removed all his clothing and left it on the dry sand behind a rock, then crept between the boulders. The sun-warmed, wet sand felt good against his bare feet. Then the edges of the cold surf washed over his toes. He often took swims in Loch Assynt, so he was accustomed to cold water. It appeared Jessie was, too.
He waded into the water and peered around the last boulder. When her back was turned, he slid beneath the water and swam underneath a wave. When he emerged twenty feet out, she happened to be facing him. Her eyes wide, she screamed and swam toward the shore.
"Jessie! 'Tis only me," he called.
But she didn't listen; she kept moving quickly toward the beach. Once the water was shallow enough, she ran, probably difficult wearing that smock. She tugged its hampering weight from around her ankles and quickened her steps. He wished she would remove the blasted garment.
He followed her, splashing through the shallow surf.
"Let's go back in," he called over the roar of the waves.
She stopped and turned to face him, her wide-eyed gaze dropping to his groin. She sucked in a sharp breath and covered her eyes. "Put on some clothes, MacLeod!"
Halting ten feet away, he grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "'Twould be much better if you'd simply remove yours." Although he did appreciate this view. Her wet smock had become more transparent, and her hard, rose-colored nipples showed through the material. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Sexual heat rushed over him despite the cool breeze blowing over his bare, wet skin.
"Are you mad?" She faced the other direction, grabbed her arisaid from the stone and attempted to belt the plaid about her waist.
"I think you are the one who is mad, wearing a drenched smock beneath your other dry clothing. Makes no sense. You should remove it all and lay it on the rocks to dry."
"You followed me!" she accused, refusing to look at him.
"Aye. I had to protect you, after all. MacBain could return." Although he doubted the bastard could return this soon. Torrin's two men and the MacKays who had escorted the MacBains south had not returned yet.
"I need no protection."
He shook his head at her stubbornness. "You didn't mind that I came to your rescue last time."
"Leave me be." Carrying her shoes and three sheathed knives, she strode away from him along the beach, dodging the massive black boulders which protruded from the sand, but he followed. She glanced back, catching his eye, then started running. Abruptly, she tumbled onto the ground with a short shriek.
"Saints! Are you hurt?" He knelt by her, one knee drawn up to conceal his tarse, so she would at least face him.
She turned to her back and leaned up on her elbows. "My foot! I stepped on something sharp."
"Och. Let me see." He lifted one of her bare, sand-covered feet. 'Twas a long, slim and elegant foot, much like the rest of her body.
She sat up, glaring at him. "The other one."
"Ah." He examined her other foot but saw no sign of blood. "Where does it hurt?"
"My heel."
"I see no injury to it. I think you'll live."
She narrowed her eyes, her gaze skittering over his naked chest, t
hen looked skyward. "Where are your clothes?"
"Over there somewhere, but it's much nicer without them today. You should try it. The sun is warm. How often have you gone naked outside?"
"Never." She lowered her voice. "Well, except when I swim sometimes."
"Indeed? You swim naked?"
Her blush deepened. "A couple of times."
"I'm shocked, m'lady," he teased with a smile. Saints, how he loved the image in his head of her swimming naked like a goddess of the sea. "You are a wild and brave lass, are you not?"
She shrugged. "Some would say wayward."
"I like a wayward lady."
At the moment, the way he knelt, his leg hid his shaft, but the problem was it was rapidly rising to its full height. She made him hard so quickly, so easily, every time he was in her presence.
"Don't give me that look, MacLeod," she said firmly.
"What look?"
She pointed at his eyes. "That one."
Could she see the raw need and desire written upon his face? He hoped so. She'd driven him mad for the past several days. "I can't help it," he said in a low tone. "I hunger for you."
Jessie swallowed hard as she held Torrin's dark, passionate gaze. In the bright sunlight, his lashes halfway hid his deep green eyes, but 'twas clear they reflected profound sensuality. His sculpted muscles were lean and elegant. He appeared iron-strong but not too bulky.
She had seen his shaft moments ago, just for a trice, when he'd emerged from the water, before she'd slammed her eyes closed. She could not see that part of his anatomy now, unless she moved closer to him. Which she was definitely not going to do. What gall he had to gallivant naked in front of her.
At the moment, his eyes bewitched her and she did not want to look away. Besides, his body aroused her. She glanced down at his chest and the defined muscles there. The rippled ridges of his abdomen intrigued her. She had only seen glimpses of naked men or lads before, some, like MacBain, in half darkness. But observing Torrin now, in the daylight, so close… he was a divine work of art. She found herself wishing she could touch him, run her fingers over those muscles and see how hard they were.
My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) Page 10
