Page 65 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

“I do and it shocked me to realize it, to favor your kisses, your touch… when you could be so cruel at other times.

He cringed. “I hated treating you badly. It tore at my heart.” He reached out to rest his hand on her cheek. “I should have waited until you knew who I was to couple with you. It should have been your decision whether you wanted Ryland or not, but—good, Lord—it was torture keeping my hands off you. I want to love you so badly.” He shook his head. “The way you challenged me that night sent me over the edge. But it was not the way I wanted it for us, especially after learning you and Torrance never consummated your marriage. It should have been your choice.”

“It was,” Esme said, turning her face so that her lips grazed his palm with a kiss. “My thought had been that if you were Torrance, I would least have the chance to get with child and if I was right and you were Ryland, I believed you an honorable man who would do right by me.”

He leaned his head down and kissed her. “I will do right by you, Esme. I will love you more each day for the rest of our lives and keep you and…” He rested his hand on her stomach. “Our future bairns safe. I only hope someday you can love me half as much as I love you.”

“Now that I know it is you, Ryland, I can care, feel for you without fear.”

“Take your time, Esme, I want you to be sure that you love me, and not that you’re just grateful I’m not Torrance.”

“I more than care for you, Ryland, but Torrance left me wounded and I need to heal, to know you are not him so Torrance can never darken my life ever again.”

“I understand that Torrance isn’t out of your life yet. And that it doesn’t help that you must continue to call me by his name and I must continue to treat you badly in front of others.”

“But it will be different his time,” Esme said. “I will know your words hold no truth and that you are Ryland, a good man, a good husband.”

“But you cannot act kindly toward me, show me favor when it is fear people expect to see in you when dealing with Torrance.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult, for when you snap at me, berate me, talk badly to me, I believe you are Torrance.”

He lowered his brow to rest on hers. “Any unkindness or meanness I show you know that I will make it up to you when we are alone.”

A tingle rushed over her. “And how will you do that.”

“Like this.” He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

Esme enjoyed the kisses she had shared with him, but they were not nearly as amazing as the way he kissed her now. His arm slipped around her back, drawing her up against him as his lips took command in such a way that she could swear she felt the love he had for her.

But then she thought how easily she could love him, the caring Ryland, and she kissed him with all the power such a love could feel. It was like being swept away in a haze of magic where everything felt just right, where two hearts beat as one, where silent promises could be heard, where fate was willingly sealed.

Ryland reluctantly tore his mouth away from hers. “You are mine, Esme, mine forever.”

“Aye, Ryland, and you are mine forever,” she whispered.

“Good, for I have no intention of ever letting you go,” he said and wrapped his arm around her as his lips settled on hers once again.

The kiss lingered between them, warm and full of unspoken promise—until the sound shattered it.

A heavy, drawn-out weeping echoed from above. A woman’s sorrowful cry, raw and unrelenting, drifted down through the rafters like a chill wind.

Esme stiffened, her eyes lifting to the darkened ceiling. “That… that wasn’t the wind.”

Ryland was already rising to his feet, lifting her along with him. “Stay here. I’ll go look.”

“You are not leaving me here alone,” she said, latching onto his arm as tight as a shackle. “I’m going with you.”

His eyes met hers, the firelight catching the fear in their depth. “Alright, then we do this together.”

Esme agreed with a nod. “Aye, together.”

A torch that Ryland took off the wall sprang to life when he held it to the hearth’s fire. He held it out in front of them as they climbed the winding stone stairs, the cold deepening with each step. Cobwebs brushed their arms, and the air felt as if it grew still. The upper level of the keep sprawled before them, shrouded in shadow. Old wooden doors lined the hall, some partially open, others closed.

Silence hung heavily around them as if whatever was here had heard their approach and grew quiet at their intrusion.

A creak sounded and was followed by footfalls, light but unmistakable, padding across a wooden floor and coming from just ahead, yet they could see no one.

Esme tightened her grip on Ryland’s arm. They moved slowly, cautiously, past each door, peeking in the open ones and pushing open the closed ones. Dust floated everywhere and cobwebs were plentiful. Some furniture pieces had decayed while others stood the test of time.

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