My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) (11 page)

"I'm barren," she said. Her throat tightened and closed and tears burned her eyes. She tore herself away from his hold and ran toward the castle gates.

"Jessie," he called after her, but she didn't stop.

There, she'd told him the truth, the reason they couldn't marry. They didn't suit at all because he needed an heir more than anything, and she couldn't provide one.

***

A quarter hour later, Torrin knocked at Jessie's bedchamber door. The woman he wanted for his wife was not barren.
'Twas
impossible. He refused to believe it.

Her kiss had bewitched him. Once his lips had touched hers, he'd been certain she was the only woman for him. Never had a kiss affected him so profoundly.
'Twas
not only the lust which had consumed his body, but his heart had somersaulted within his chest. She was the woman he'd dreamed of the whole of his life.

He knocked again.

"Who is it?" Jessie's muffled response came from inside the room.

"Me. Torrin."

"What do you want?"

"To talk." That much should be obvious to her.

"There is naught to talk about," she assured him in a firm voice.

"I disagree," he growled. They had plenty to talk about. He had imagined her as the mother of his children for more than six months. And now, to suddenly be told that wouldn't be possible was a blow to his vitals.

"Did you not hear what I said outside?" she demanded.

"Of course, I heard.
'Tis
why I'm here now. How do you ken 'tis true?"

"How do you think?" she practically yelled through the door. "When I was with MacBain, I was unable to conceive a
bairn
."

"
Iosa
is
Muire
Mhàthair
." He detested the sound of
MacBain's
name, and to once again imagine the bastard lying with Jessie gutted him.

A chambermaid approached along the corridor. Once she had disappeared into a room, he turned back to the door. "Let me in. I want to talk about this in private. Servants are passing by."

"How grand," she muttered. "Gossip will be all over the castle by morn." She removed the bar from the door and opened it. "Very well. Do come in,
m'laird
. This is not at all scandalous," she said in an impertinent tone.

He slammed the door closed and barred it. When he faced her and saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, annoyance pounded through him. Not annoyance at her but at the situation. "Mayhap MacBain is not as virile as he thinks," he said.

She shrugged. "He was able to sire a son with his lovely
wife
after that."

"How many times did you lie with him?" Torrin hated the image in his head of Jessie with that whoreson. It made him want to break
MacBain's
nose again, along with a few of his limbs.

"I didn't count.
'Twas
three months."

"Were you not in the trial marriage for a year and a day?"

"Aye, but he lost interest and found a prettier lass to secretly spend his nights with."

"There could be no prettier lass than you," Torrin muttered, remembering how her hair had shimmered like red flames in the sunlight today, and her eyes had rivaled the bright blue sky. Now, in the dimness of the room, the colors were more subdued but no less beautiful.

"I thank you, but…" She shook her head, tears dripping onto her cheeks.

He wanted to hold her in his arms, brush all her tears away, then kiss her, but he was unsure what her response would be. Seeing her cry was like a punch to the gut. "I should've hurt MacBain worse than I did. Should've broken both his legs."

"Nay. There was no need. I just hope he stays gone."

"Why did you not leave him when he turned his attention to the other woman?"

"I had no proof. Besides, 'twas against the agreement I'd signed. I had to stay for a year and a day, no matter what, other than physical abuse of course."

"He didn't abuse you?"

"He never hit me, if that's what you mean. But he could be rather insulting at times. My father regretted making the arrangement, but there was naught either of us could do until the year was up, because MacBain kept the other woman a secret. There were rumors, but I didn't know who she was at the time. Only later did I find out he married her soon after I left."

Torrin paced before the small fireplace where a low fire burned. "Well, simply because you lay with MacBain off and on for three months and didn't conceive doesn't mean you're barren."

"'Haps you're right. But you're a chief and will want an heir. I'm certain marrying me would be a risk you wouldn't wish to take. And I refuse to sign another trial marriage agreement. Men have no concept of what that does to a woman."

Some called the trial marriage
handfasting
, and he could see the benefit of it. But now he tried to imagine the situation from the female viewpoint… from Jessie's viewpoint.
'Twas
indeed a precarious position for a woman. A marriage might hinge on whether or not she was able to conceive. In any case, he wouldn't ask that of her. He wanted a real marriage. "I'm sorry you went through that. I can tell 'twas hard for you and it left some lasting damage."

She nodded, gazing into his eyes with a bit more trust than before. "
'Tis
not something I want to experience again. I've had two broken engagements. The first time, I was betrothed to one of the Keith allies, but he disappeared the day before the wedding and I never saw him again."

"A daft fool," Torrin muttered. What was wrong with these imbecilic men? Now only was Jessie a stunningly beautiful woman, she was also strong, tall and proud. A warrior princess? A goddess? Aye, indeed.

"Mayhap he had a premonition about—"

"Jessie," Torrin chided softly. "Don't say it. You're not barren."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. There's only one way to know for sure." Aye, he was ready for the challenge.

Jessie narrowed her eyes, glaring at him, but now—since the kiss—he saw more than just her ire. The way her pale blue eyes darkened told him she was more than interested in his suggestion. The way her hands had dug into his hair and held his head had told him she'd relished the kiss.

"Would it be so terrible?" he asked.

"For you, nay."

"You enjoyed the kiss near as much as I did. You cannot lie about that. And I can guarantee you will not leave my bed unsatisfied."

"Must you be so vulgar?"

Wry amusement came over him. "I was but speaking the truth, m'lady. And furthermore, I promise to give you pleasures such as you have never experienced before."

"
'Tis
but a game to you, aye?" she snapped. "This is my life we're talking about."

Frustration and need gored him. He knew he was right; he simply needed to prove it to her. "You want to live your whole life never knowing whether or not you're barren?"

She shook her head and stared into the fire's embers for a few moments. "It matters not. Birthing a
bairn
might kill me anyway."

Fear sliced through him. Every man's worst nightmare—the wife he loved dying while trying to bring their child into the world. "Why do you say that?" he demanded.

"My mother died giving birth to me.
'Tis
not that rare."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"For a long time, I felt I was to blame."

"Nay. How could you be?"

She shrugged. "I know these things happen sometimes and no one is to blame."

"You're a healthy, strong woman. I'm certain you will be able to birth many
bairns
." He prayed she could, for he wanted no one else to be the mother of his children. He'd been imagining her as his wife for months. He'd even wondered what their children might look like. Would they have a son with flaming red hair, or chestnut brown like his? 'Haps several with each. Lasses, too. He'd imagined them living a long, happy life at
Munrick
.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Who is it?" Jessie asked.

"
'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?

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.