My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5)

by Sinclair, Vonda

  "'Twas long ago." Trying to shove the emotion aside, Torrin paced to the fireplace, knelt and stirred the coals with the iron poker, then added a brick of peat. 'Twas summer, but with gloaming, the room had grown chill. Thinking about his past always made him crave cozy warmth, for much of his childhood had been emotionally cold.

  He didn't know why he'd opened up so much to Jessie. Mayhap because he felt so comfortable with her. He'd revealed more to her about his past than he had anyone in years. But he must forget his past misfortunes and concentrate on the future. His future with Jessie—if she would have him.

  "I thank you for rescuing Aiden," she said behind him. "That means more to me than I can say."

  Torrin stood and faced her. "You're welcome. He told us on the way back that Haldane had planned to use him to force us to open the gates."

  "Of course. Haldane cares naught for him, or anyone, but himself."

  Torrin nodded. "I believe Aiden sees the truth of it now."

  "I'm sorry to ask, but would you be willing to stay until Erskine recovers or Dirk and Keegan return. I know naught about how to lead a clan, especially during conflict such as Haldane has stirred up. The guards may need your advice and guidance about how to handle it. Of course, there is Uncle Conall and the clan elders who will have their say in all matters, but they cannot lead the men into battle."

  "Indeed. I'd planned to. And I thank you for trusting me enough to ask. You do trust me, aye?" He hoped she did after all that had happened.

  The fire burned brighter, the flames reflecting in Jessie's eyes, revealing a pleasant expression. "I do now."

  He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. "In that case, 'tis the best day of my life."

  She smiled. And he thought she was blushing, though 'twas hard to tell in the firelight.

  "In truth, your trust means the world to me." Drawing near, he kissed her forehead.

  Her fingers curled into his clothing, holding him close. Warmth and gratitude spread through him, along with arousal. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her temple. Her hair tickled his lips. Her feminine lavender scent awakened his senses. Drawing back a wee bit, he slid his hand around her neck and into her hair. She lifted her gaze to his, her light blue eyes turned dark. The passion he read in her eyes kicked his heart into a faster rhythm. He pressed his lips to hers.

  When she responded, kissing him back with affection and eagerness, he pulled her tight against him.

  A knock sounded at the door. Jessie started.

  He released her and stepped back. "Now, who could that be?" He strode to the door and opened it.

  Sim waited outside. "Chief!"

  "I'm glad you've returned." Torrin stepped into the corridor and pulled the door almost closed behind him. "Were you successful in your mission?" he whispered.

  Sim grinned broadly. "Indeed, m'laird."

  Torrin stuck his head back into the library and asked Jessie, "Could you wait here for a few minutes?"

  She frowned a bit. "Why?"

  He shrugged, not wanting to raise her suspicions any more than he had already. "I but want to talk to you more," he said, hoping she knew that by the word talk he actually meant kiss. He winked.

  She blushed and clasped her hands together. "Very well. If you hurry." She gave an impish grin.

  "I will indeed hurry."

  Torrin disappeared out the door, closing it behind him. Jessie wondered how long he would make her wait. And what would they do or talk about once he returned? She did enjoy spending time alone with him, and of course his kisses.

  Apparently, the men had returned from escorting the MacBains south. Maybe Torrin would come back and tell her news of whether MacBain had caused any trouble. For a certainty now, she could not go out and walk on the beach with so many outlaws on the loose. She turned, gazing out the window at Balnakeil Bay below. The sun had already sunk below the horizon but 'twas still light enough to see the beach and the cliffs in the distance.

  She busied herself lighting the candelabra on the table. 'Twould be dark soon, and she wanted to see the varying expressions that crossed Torrin's face.

  Moments later, the library door opened again and Torrin entered carrying a large wad of plaid in one arm. What on earth was that? When it wiggled, a shock went through her.

  "What is that?" she asked.

  A whine pierced the air.

  "A surprise." He pulled back the plaid and a furry, dark gray head popped out.

  'Twas the cutest puppy she'd ever seen. Her mouth dropped open. "I didn't know you had a dog."

  "'Tis not mine."

  "Whose is it?"

  "Yours." Torrin grinned and set the long-legged pup on the floor. It ran to her, its tail wagging like mad. The wee Scottish deerhound was dark grey all over, except for white paws and a white star on his chest.

  "I don't understand." Her heart melting, she knelt to pet the adorable and enthusiastic animal.

  "'Tis my gift to you. I sent my men to get it in Scourie. I have a distant cousin there who breeds deerhounds. You're lucky; he only sells them to chiefs."

  "Torrin." She shook her head, emotion tightening her throat. He was so sweet and generous, but she couldn't become attached to another dog. Losing Ossian had near killed her. Taking a deep breath, she forced the sadness away. "You shouldn't have. I wasn't planning to get another dog."

  Torrin frowned. "Why not? You love them."

  "Because… it hurts too much when you lose them."

  He knelt opposite her and rubbed the puppy's belly while it squirmed on its back between them. "There's always the chance we'll lose people or animals we love, but we can't let that hold us back from loving them."

  Tears burned her eyes. "I know, but I simply didn't wish to get attached to another dog."

  "Just as you don't wish to get attached to another man?" Torrin lifted his brows, his perceptive gaze piercing into her.

  Though she hated to admit it, she nodded. "I've been hurt enough."

  He shook his head and drew his hand back from the pup. It leapt up and loped across the room.

  "Jessie." He crawled closer to where she sat on the floor, her knees drawn up, and placed a finger underneath her chin to lift it.

  Not wanting him to see her tears, she pressed her eyes closed.

  "Look at me," he murmured.

  She opened her eyes to find him studying her intently with a sincere gaze.

  "I vow upon my life, I'm not going to hurt you. I would never abandon you or send you back to your family once I make a commitment to you."

  "You could change your mind in a year or two. Who knows? People change. What they want changes."

  His eyes narrowing, he drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. "What I want has not changed since I first saw you," he said in a firmer tone.

  "That was only last winter."

  "Aye. Seven months ago. If I were not certain, do you think I would be here now?"

  "I know not. 'Tis only…" She cared too much for Torrin now. If she accepted his offer of marriage and he tired of her, she couldn't survive it. Tears flooded her eyes. She stood, turned her back to him and stared out the window, not wanting him to see her tears or her weakness.

  "So," he said, getting to his feet. "You do not accept me or this wee laddie?" His tone was so disappointed she could hardly stand it.

  She wanted to accept them both. She truly did.

  "Very well," he said from across the room. The door clicked shut.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jessie turned and stared at the door Torrin had just closed behind him as he'd left. Of course, 'twas her fault he'd walked out, but at the same time, she realized this was what it would feel like if he abandoned her. She pressed her eyes closed tight, tears running down her cheeks. 'Twould rip her heart out.

  But he hadn't abandoned her. He'd simply left the room because he believed she wouldn't accept him or his gift.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. The words echoed in the quiet, empty room.


  The leggy pup scuttled toward her and sniffed at her skirt-tail.

  She lowered herself to the floor on shaky legs and the pup clambered onto her lap. "What is your name, wee furry beastie?" she asked, trying to keep him from washing her face with his pink tongue. "You are a handsome lad." Already the pup wriggled his way into her heart, just as Torrin had. She couldn't help but smile. Torrin was a sweetheart to give her such a thoughtful gift. She would have to thank him, for indeed she could not refuse the puppy.

  "How about Greum?" she asked him. "Would you answer to that name?"

  The pup put his white paws on her shoulder and licked her ear.

  "Och, you are very forward just like Torrin." She rolled him onto his back and rubbed his belly. He squirmed and kicked, a happy grin on his face. Playing with him, she repeated the name a few times, hoping he'd come to recognize it quickly. "Are you hungry? I bet you are as hungry as a wild boar, are you not? Come, Greum, and I'll find you something to eat."

  She rose and approached the door. Greum scampered at her heels as she left the library and crossed the great hall. Everyone was assembling for supper. She glanced around the room and her gaze landed on Torrin, standing by the fireplace with several of his men. She sent him a brief smile and continued on toward the kitchen, not waiting to see what his response would be. She was sure he thought her daft. And mayhap she was. But she could only do what she felt was right for her.

  ***

  Torrin's attention was completely ensnared when Jessie strode across the great hall, the pup on her heels. She smiled at him, halting his breath, then disappeared down the stairs leading to the kitchen. Saints! What did that smile mean? He refused to chase after her and find out. Nay, she would have to come to him this time.

  Had she decided to accept the pup? He certainly hoped so. She needed it. She needed something or someone to love, who would love her back. Torrin could do that, but he was unsure whether she would ever accept him. All he could do was try to prove to her, over and over, that he wouldn't abandon her as MacBain had. The whoreson.

  Everyone seated themselves as supper began. Torrin joined Conall, Iain and several others at the high table. The men left a vacant seat beside Torrin, but the reason remained unspoken. However, as the food was served, 'twas clear to him Jessie was not going to join them this eve. Although his stomach ached with hunger, he had little appetite. Another seat further along the table also remained empty.

  "Where is Aiden?" Torrin asked Conall.

  "In his chamber, under heavy guard."

  "Heavy guard?"

  "Aye, he slipped past the single guard who was watching him last night. So, now he has two."

  Torrin doubted he would try to sneak out again, anyway, considering what a disaster last night's adventure had been. "Is he not allowed to join us for supper?"

  "Aye, of course. But he said he wishes to eat in his room." Conall shrugged.

  Saints! Aiden was always at the high table for meals. The situation with Erskine had affected the lad more profoundly than Torrin had imagined. And he was also likely still upset about Haldane.

  "How is Erskine?" Torrin asked.

  "He was sleeping when last I checked in on him a quarter hour ago," Conall said.

  Torrin nodded, praying that meant he was recovering. After taking a bite of venison stew, he turned to Struan, his sword-bearer, who had joined them at high table. "Tell me of your journey south. Did MacBain and his men give you trouble?"

  "Nay, they were quiet and cooperative, but glared at us the entire way. 'Tis clear MacBain is angered beyond reason. I fear he will strike back. 'Haps with a larger force of men next time."

  "Saints! 'Tis just what we need," Torrin grumbled.

  "At the border, we told them to be on their way," Struan said. "'Twas a tense moment when we threw their weapons down at their feet. At first, we were unsure whether they would grab their swords and attack or not. But clearly, they were outnumbered, and they didn't wish to risk it. We were careful to watch our backs, especially at night when we camped."

  "Good work. And I thank you for handling that risky job so well." Torrin drank a long sip of the bitter dark ale.

  "'Twas an honor, m'laird. A few miles south of Durness, we came upon Sim, Luag and Gordon returning from Scourie with a pup, of all things." Struan chuckled. "I thought, what on earth is the chief up to now, sending them to fetch a wee dog? But once they told me 'twas a gift for the lady, it made perfect sense. I take it she liked the wee beastie."

  "I think she did." He hoped.

  "Of course she did," Iain said, leaning forward, where he sat on Struan's other side. "Did you not see the blinding smile she sent him across the great hall moments ago?"

  "Nay, I did not," Struan said, then took a huge bite of stew.

  Iain grinned. "'Twas a sight to behold, as if the sun shone at midday."

  "This is good news, then, m'laird," Struan said.

  Torrin snorted. "He exaggerates."

  Aye, he thought she liked the pup, but she had not said so yet. He hoped she would search him out later and let him know. If he couldn't see her tonight, he would miss her terribly. Already, he was addicted to her. Last night had been the best night of his life, and he wanted many more of those.

  As everyone was finishing the meal, they looked glum, sipping their ale. The low murmur of conversation was only a quarter of the usual volume, and where music used to fill this great hall, there was silence. 'Twas clear the clan was worried about Erskine, but also missing Aiden and his music.

  "'Tis late," Torrin said. "I think I will check on Erskine and Aiden, then retire for the evening."

  Iain lifted one brow and gave him a speculative look.

  Torrin merely glared at him. Do not even say what you're thinking. No doubt it had something to do with Jessie. Torrin rose from the table and bid them good night.

  He headed toward the stairs.

  "Lad, could I have a word?"

  Torrin halted. Was someone calling him lad? Only his uncles and the MacLeod clan elders did that these days. Och, 'twas Conall following him. He should've guessed.

  "Aye, of course." Saints! Was the man going to berate him for defiling his niece? "Would you like to go into the library?" He sure as the devil didn't want Iain to listen in on this conversation if Conall was going to question him about where he'd slept last night.

  "That would be good," the older man said.

  Torrin proceeded into the room, and Conall closed the door behind them.

  "I have great respect for you as a chief and laird," Conall said. "'Twas clear to me today what a great leader you are."

  Torrin gave a brief nod. "I thank you for that."

  "You've generously helped this clan in many ways since you've been visiting."

  "I'm more than glad to help out when I can."

  "But… Jessie is my niece and… well, you were in her chamber this morn. Her father is no longer with us, and her older brother is away, so I felt it my responsibility to say something."

  "Aye, well, I want you to know, sir, that I want to marry Lady Jessie," Torrin said, feeling almost as if he were speaking to Jessie's father. "I've offered for her hand twice. Dirk has refused each time because he says Lady Jessie refuses. I'm simply trying to change her mind. I think once she gets to know me, she will reconsider and accept my offer."

  "Um-hmm," Conall grunted his response and nodded a wee bit, thinking that over. "Well, mayhap she is the one I should be speaking to about making this right."

  "'Haps." Torrin was unsure whether Conall would help the situation or damage it further if he tried to pressure Jessie into marrying him. "Does she usually take your advice?"

  "Aye, of course. All the young folks do."

  Naturally, he would say that, but Torrin was still unsure. "She is stubborn, is she not?"

  "Indeed. Most of the MacKays are," he said heartily.

  "I care about her a great deal, and I truly want her for my wife. I have since the night I met her last winter." Torrin
hoped the older man could see his sincerity, and how much Jessie meant to him. "If you can put in a good word for me, I would appreciate it."

  "Aye. I'll do that." With a wee smile, Conall offered his hand, and Torrin shook it. "You're a good man, and I'll look forward to having you for a nephew."

  "I thank you, sir. That means a lot to me. And I hope it comes to pass."

  After he and Conall left the library, Torrin headed upstairs to Erskine's chamber. Several candles lit the room and the ancient, white-haired healer, Nannag, and her two younger helpers sat watching Erskine sleep.

  "How is he?" Torrin asked, keeping his voice low.

  "He has no fever and his breathing is strong," Nannag said in a paper-thin whisper. "The bleeding has stopped."

  "Good. Send someone after me if his condition changes."

  "Aye, indeed. I will, m'laird."

  "I thank you." He exited the room and headed toward Aiden's chamber on the same corridor as his own but further along and around a corner. Two burly guards stood outside the door.

  "I've come to see Aiden," Torrin told them.

  One of the guards knocked on the door.

  All was silent inside. Anxiety slithering through him, Torrin frowned. Was he asleep, or had he slipped out somehow?

  The guard opened the door and barged into the room. Torrin followed. Aiden sat before the fireplace.

  "You scared the life out of me, Aiden," Torrin said.

  "Why?"

  "When you didn't answer, I thought… never mind what I thought."

  The guard left the room and closed the door, giving them privacy.

  "Did you eat supper?" Torrin asked.

  "Nay, I'm not hungry." Aiden stared listlessly into the fire, his shoulders slumped.

  "You must eat something to keep up your strength. We missed you greatly at supper."

  Aiden sent him a troubled look, but remained silent.

  Torrin dropped into the other wooden chair by the fireplace. "Erskine will recover, I'm certain."

  "You don't know that." Aiden's voice was hushed and glum.

  "He's stable, thus far, and sleeping."

  Aiden swallowed hard and nodded.

  "I wish you hadn't slipped out to see Haldane, but I understand why you did."