Torrian (The Highland Clan Book 2) (11 page)

Torrian’s gaze found hers. How could he possibly convince her of something she was incapable of comprehending? He’d try anyway, just for his own satisfaction. “Because I was verra ill for a long while. I could not walk on my own, and Growley was always there to assist me. That drooling scavenger acted as my legs for many moons. To a young lad, not being able to walk unassisted is devastating, especially when you are the laird’s heir and there are certain expectations.”

“I still do not understand how you could value an animal so. You grew up, did you not? Look at you now.”

“Because he was always there for me, rain or shine, no matter how poorly he felt. ‘Tis why I considered him my friend. And he was the best listener in the world. Somehow, I did not expect you would understand.” He watched the emotion flit across Davina’s face, though he couldn’t quite be sure if it was disgust or anger. Mayhap there was a little of both. At the same time, he recalled the expression on Heather’s face when she’d come upon the puppies in the stables and when he’d placed Bretta on Nellie’s lap. Both were a far cry from the expression on Davina’s face. Heather’s eyes had misted, Davina’s had turned to disbelief. The two lasses could not be more different.

She reached underneath the table and slid her hand up his thigh. “Mayhap I do not comprehend your fascination with dogs, but there’s one thing I do understand. I want you and you want me. Why do we not retire to your chamber so I can help you forget about the troubles you suffered when you were young?”

Her hand moved up his thigh, reaching under his plaid to find his flesh, and though he tried to fight it, she did have certain talents. He was rock hard.

Her eyes glittered with triumph, and she continued her ministrations.

“Stop,” he whispered.

“What?” The confused expression on her face told him she hadn’t been turned down often.

“Release. Me. Now.”

If she continued with her ministrations, she’d embarrass him in front of the entire hall. He reached for her wrist when she finally released him.

“I must say I’ve never met another man like you, my lord. Did your childhood illness leave you lacking in certain areas?”

The cold, calculating look in her eyes told him he needed to be careful. He glanced over her shoulder and just happened to catch the look in Ranulf’s gaze. It was clear the man knew exactly what she had done, and equally clear that he was not happy.

He needed to be very careful indeed.

Chapter Twelve

After the music and festivities began, Heather sneaked into the kitchens the back way to get something to eat for Nellie, hoping to avoid being seen. She moved carefully through the herb garden, but stopped in her tracks when she heard female voices around the corner. She recognized one immediately—Lily. The other she guessed was Davina. She waited, hoping they would move on so she could continue on to the kitchens without interruption.

“Why did we need to come out here to talk, Lily? I know you are Torrian’s sister, but there’s no reason we could not speak in the great hall.”

“Actually, I wished to be certain we would not be disturbed. ‘Tis too noisy inside, and I wanted to ensure you would hear me.”

Heather was surprised to hear the anger in Lily’s voice. She was a happy, warm person whom Heather enjoyed immensely. How she wished she could observe them. She also realized she should probably leave, but her feet stayed anchored in place.

“All right. But please be quick about it. I have better things to do.”

“I’m sure you do. You are a conniving woman, are you not?”

Heather could almost picture Davina and her outrage.

“How dare you speak to me in such a way.” Davina’s voice had lowered almost to a growl. “You will treat me with respect. Have you forgotten that I will be mistress of this castle someday and you will answer to me?”

Someone snorted, but Heather could not picture either one of them doing such a thing.

“I will
never
answer to you, my lady,” Lily drawled. “I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Are you pleasant, or helpful, or a genuinely giving person? Wait, please do not answer as I plan to answer for you. I’ve seen no evidence to support any of those things. I have observed you and asked many questions, and I do not like the answers I have received. You are spoiled and manipulative. You are a selfish woman who’s only interested in marrying the chieftain of a clan so your status will be elevated to mistress.”

“Is that so? And you are the expert who deems this to be true?”

Heather could envision Davina crossing her arms in front of her, and she found herself wishing again that she could see them.

“Aye, ‘tis true. Anyone can see it in aught you do. I will not allow you to get away with it. My brother is the most wonderful man you will ever meet, and I believe you realize that you two do not suit. I want you to walk away.”

“And how shall I do that when this wedding has been ordered by our king? I did not ask for this, and I am doing my best to do as our king ordered me to do.”

“Mayhap, but I’m sure you do not have your maidenhead…”

Heather heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Had Davina slapped her?

“You should not try to hit me again. I am too fast for you. As I was saying, my brother deserves the best, and you two are not suited. Tell your sire and King Alexander that you pine for another and you do not wish to marry. Say whatever you like, but you must put a stop to this. The request came from your sire. He’s the one who can end the arrangement. Mayhap there’s another match your king could make for you. There are plenty of lads in the land of the Scots.”

“Mayhap I’d like to marry Torrian. ‘Tis none of your concern.”

“Both of us know that isn’t so. But mayhap you’re not capable of caring for anyone, so Torrian is as good as the next lad. Well, know this. You may fool everyone else with your beauty and your smiles, but not me. I will not allow this marriage to take place. You will never make my brother happy, and my nieces and nephews will not grow up with a mother like you.”

“I’m sure the king cares not what you say. I’ll marry him, and you must adjust, as anyone does to a new member of a family. I tire of this conversation. I’m returning to my betrothed and the festivities.”

Heather hurried to hide between a group of bushes in the gardens. Once they left, she let out a breath. Poor Torrian was the only thing she could think of at the moment. Once all was quiet, she ducked out from behind the tree and started down the path.

A deep voice called out behind her, a voice that crawled up her spine and caused her head to ache.

“What a surprise, Miss Heather! What brings your happy, smiling face to the Ramsay keep?”

Heather spun around and clutched her throat. How she’d hoped never to set eyes upon this man again, yet there he stood in front of her, a wide grin on his face. Since his people had arrived, she’d been wary of just this circumstance, choosing to stay in the keep as much as possible on the upper level. Her worst fear had come to pass.

“I can tell by the expression on your face how glad you are to see me, pretty one. Have you not missed me?” He sauntered toward her, his arrogance evident in his swagger.

“Stay away from me. I told you I never wished to see you again.” Her heart threatened to break out of her chest it beat so fast.

He grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward. “You do not have the right to tell me what to do. I’ll see you whenever I wish to do so. The cave I set up for you is not good enough anymore? You had to seek out the Ramsays?”

“The cave is satisfactory, but Nellie has been sick.”

“My wee daughter has been ill? As soon as she’s better, you must return to your cave. I do not want you here. What have you told them?”

“Naught, I’ve told them naught about you. Let me go, you’re hurting me.” She twisted her arm to get away, but to no avail.

He held on for a moment longer, just to prove he could, and then released her and stepped back. “Is Nellie better?”

“Not completely. Brenna Ramsay is the best healer. You know ‘twas why I chose this area.”

“But we agreed you were to live in seclusion and not tell the Ramsays aught about us.”

“And that is what I’ve done. As soon as I’m sure of her safety, I’ll return to the cave.”

He walked over and stroked her cheek. “Do that. You still are a rare beauty, though. Mayhap I’d like another taste of you.”

She jerked her cheek away from him. The look in his eyes made her wish to hurl in the bushes. “Nay, you promised to leave me be if I left.”

He dropped his hand. “Fortunately for you, I have plenty of other bedmates to choose from. They all want to be in my bed. Just do not hedge from our agreement. You will regret it if you mention my name to anyone here.”

Just the thought of him hurting Nellie made her ill. She tried to hide her reaction, but she could not, instead doing her best to stay on her feet and not crumple to the ground at the mere thought of losing Nellie.

“I see you’ve realized what I could do. ‘Tis true, though I’d hate to hurt my own daughter. But I could take her home with me and leave you behind.”

Trying her best to hide her fear, she took a step back. “You would not.”

“I would.”

“But you have no interest in her.” She wanted to scratch out his eyes, claw his face, kick him where it would hurt him most.

“Nay, I do not. But any number of women back at the keep would raise her for me. That I would do.”

“I’ve abided by our agreement. Please leave us alone.”

He turned to walk back to the keep, but then stopped to address her over his shoulder. “I will, as long as you do not talk. Understood? One word and I’ll take her.” He strode off, his arrogant walk enough to make her want to chase after him and punch him with all her might.

But what could she do? She had no choice but to do as he said. He had all the power, and she knew she had none. She ran back into the trees and sobbed.

***

Glenn of Buchan, Ranulf MacNiven, Davina, Cormag, and Dugald met outside in a hidden spot in the woods midway through the night’s festivities.

“This is not going well,” Ranulf growled.

Davina lifted her chin. “I believe ‘tis going as we planned.”

“Nay, ‘tis not. I can see he does not like you. You must fix this.” Her father paced in the small clearing, his hands on his hips.

She crossed her arms in a pout. “Aye, he does. He’s just a bit slower than most lads. He’ll be mine in another day.”

Ranulf gave her a twisted grin. “Truly? You believe that? I saw what transpired at the dais. He refused your advances.”

Dugald added, “I saw it, as well, although his failure to react did not surprise me. Use your head and try not to embarrass the lad in front of his clan and his king.”

Her father stopped in front of her. “You need to get him in your bed by tomorrow. I’ll give you one more day to sway him.”

“One day is all I need, Da.” Davina relaxed.

Ranulf wished to shake both her and her sire. The man was clearly blinded by his affection for his daughter. “I do not believe ‘twill work. Even his sister does not like you.”

She spun on her heel to confront him. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways, Davina. The success of this entire venture is in your hands. You must come through.”

“And I promise I will. I only need one more day.” She glared at Ranulf, but when he stepped closer to her, making his threat apparent to her if not to her foolish relatives, she averted her gaze.

“I have a plan,” Ranulf said. “‘Tis foolish to sit around and see if our original plan will work. This plan is fool proof.”

Glenn paused, clearly deciding whether or not to heed him. He had to convince them. It was the best way forward, he was sure of it.

“All right, MacNiven. We’ll listen to your plan,” Glenn finally said.

They listened to everything Ranulf had to say, then mulled over the proposition.

“I believe ‘tis brilliant, Da,” Dugald said.

Glenn nodded as a slow smile crept across his face, showing the missing teeth that had been knocked out years ago in a battle with a boar. “At least ‘tis a plan. We shall see how well it works. There is naught more beautiful than you, daughter. Work your magic on the lad. See it done.”

Davina smiled and tipped her head toward Ranulf.

“Can you do your part, Davina?” Ranulf asked.

“Of course. I will be successful. Do not doubt it. The man will be mine by the morrow’s moon.”

Ranulf wished he had a bit more confidence in the lass, but he’d just have to trust her. Her sire and her brother believed in her, so he had little choice but to do the same. Given the opportunity, Ranulf would use different methods to ensure her compliance. Her sire was too soft with her, but he still needed the Buchans so he kept his opinions to himself.

More than anything, he needed Davina. It would not be much longer now.

***

The following day had not seen any improvement in his circumstance. The king had continued to show favor to the match, and his father had gone along with him. The only event that had given him hope was that both Uncle Logan and Aunt Gwyneth had disappeared for most of the day. The evening meal had passed with Davina saying little to him. In fact, she’d been so agreeable that Torrian wondered if something was afoot.

Later that night, Torrian paced the parapets. The Ramsay keep hadn’t had one when he was a wee lad, but they’d built one after his sire married Brenna. He’d come up here in the hopes that the cool night air would help clear his mind and figure out a solution to his problem.

He had no interest in Davina at all, and his heart longed for Heather. He wished to share this with his king, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity. Besides, once he spoke to the king, it would be over. His sire had been clear in his expectations. Torrian would do whatever the king ordered him to do.

But could he subject himself to a lifetime with a lass he could hardly tolerate? The more time he spent with Davina, the worse the prospect of the arranged marriage seemed. It loomed over him like a giant thundercloud, threatening to drench him and break into ripping winds, torrential downpours, and violent lightning. Talking to the lass was a chore, something he honestly did not know if he could do every day.

His alternative was to be accused of treason, and face whatever sentence his king deemed appropriate—flaying, imprisonment, or execution. None of those frightened him as much as the one thing that would surely happen if he denied Davina—disappointing his father.

His only hope was to beg his king in private.

He headed down the stairs to his chamber, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He would take each moment as it came. Moving down the passageway, he opened the door to his chamber and stepped inside.

As soon as he did, a feminine voice purred to him. “Come inside and warm me.”

He pivoted toward his bed and found Davina with the covers drawn back, an open invitation to join her. She wore naught, just as before. He should have known better. As fast as he could, he turned back toward the door, but disaster struck before he could open it.

The door flew open, and Davina’s sire stood in the doorway.

A booming voice echoed down the passageway, “What have you done to my daughter?”