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

Chapter Two

Heather leaned back against the Ramsay lad, letting his heat envelop her in a warm embrace. The nights had been a bit cool of late, and she usually gave Nellie the heat of her body. It felt good to lean on someone, and Torrian had a rock-hard chest that supported her. Besides, he seemed to be sincere and kind, unlike another man she knew…

Having never known her parents, Heather had grown up with her grandmama, whom she’d lost in the year before Nellie was born, and her grandpapa, who’d died just after Nellie’s birth. She’d chosen Nellie’s name because it reminded her of her grandmother, Nellie.

Things had not gone well for her after her grandmama’s death. Though her grandsire loved her, he knew naught about raising a lass. It had been a difficult time for her, but he’d trained her to hunt and shoot, the most valuable skills he could have taught her. Her daughter had given her a reason to live, a reason to care, a reason to wake up each morn. How such a beautiful thing could come from such a horrid act, she would never understand.

She’d devoted herself, heart and soul, to Nellie’s well-being for the past four years. Tears stung her lids at the thought of losing her and going back to her old life.

She believed in the Ramsay healer. She had to.

Torrian’s warm breath sent a shiver down her spine. “Is it just the two of you, or do you have a husband?”

“Nay,” she whispered, staring at her hands. “There’s just the two of us.”

“How long have you lived in that cave?”

“Three summers now. ‘Tis a wonderful life because ‘tis just my Nellie and me, with naught to bother us.”

For some reason, Torrian tucked her closer to him at that. How she wished she could have faith in a man, but experience had taught her they could not be trusted.

Somehow, she knew Torrian was unusual. Nay, this man would not harm her. Having watched him enough times over the years, she knew he was not the sort. Aye, he was trustworthy, unlike the other man in her life.

Stop thinking horrid thoughts
.

The bouncing of the horse kept her from sleeping, which was good. She needed to give them directions. Steering them toward a well-hidden path, she led them through the twists and turns to the cave. As soon as the purple wildflowers came into view telling her they were close, she leaped down from the horse.

Her cave was well hidden, and she took off in its direction without him, trusting he would follow her. Before she could spare a thought for the others, she needed to know Nellie still breathed. Racing up the narrow path, swiping the tree branches away from her face, she hurried into the cave, only stopping when she fell to her knees beside her daughter. “Nellie?”

Nothing. She lifted the bairn into her arms and spoke into her ear. “Nellie. Wake up. Please, you must speak to Mama.” Still, the wee lassie did not answer. Heather spun around to carry her out of the cave, but a soothing voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Set her down there,” Brenna said. “I’ll come to her, or you may settle her on your lap if you’d rather.”

Heather glanced into Brenna’s warm gaze. “Many thanks for coming. I do not know what I would do if…” Her voice cracked, so she stopped.

“I understand, I have three daughters,” Brenna said, squeezing her shoulder. “I’ll do my best for her, I promise.”

Torrian came in behind Brenna after he delivered instructions to his guards. Torrian acted as if he’d been in charge his entire life, something unusual for one so young. But then again, she had little to compare him to.

Heather did Brenna’s bidding, and soon she was sitting with Nellie’s head cradled in her lap. She watched as Brenna gave Torrian a jug. “See if the guards can find fresh water.”

“To the north. There’s a creek there,” Heather choked out.

When Torrian left to send the guards out for water, she found herself watching him. A brief tug inside her was persistent enough to cause her to stare at him before she remembered where her focus belonged.

Brenna worked on Nellie for almost an hour, washing her body with the cool liquid from the stream, doing her best to get her to drink, and rubbing a salve on her chest. Heather prayed over and over that her daughter would awaken, but she did not.

“Heather, I know this is probably against your wishes, but I think you should bring her to our keep so I can spend more time with her. This cave is fine for the two of you when she is well, but now that she’s sick, I suspect you haven’t been able to spend much time searching for food. Our keep is quite large. Why not bring wee Nellie to stay in a chamber with a soft bed and pillows—somewhere she can be warm until she heals? We can place you and Nellie in your own chamber so you can care for her, and we have maids to assist you.”

“You will not try to make us stay, will you? You’ll not try to keep her against my will?”

“Nay, I promise.” Brenna patted her hand, then arranged her supplies and returned them to her satchel.

Torrian returned and strode over to her. “Here’s an oatcake for you,” he said, staring into her eyes as he reached out and handed it to her. “My guess is you have not been eating much.”

Heather reached for the oatcake, her mouth watering at the mere thought of food, let alone the sight of it. “My thanks. I have not eaten.”

Torrian added, “I remember what my sire was like when I fell ill. He barely left my side for years. You must take care of yourself, as well. ‘Tis probably in your best interest to return to the keep with us for a short time.”

Heather paused for a moment to consider their offer. Torrian was right—she’d stayed by Nellie’s side ever since the fever struck, and she hadn’t given food much thought. She’d barely had the strength to run to the Ramsay keep today.

“You’ve left the cave unguarded, lass.” Torrian tipped his head toward the two spears she kept nearby in case any animal came inside the cave, along with a pile of rope and strings she usually tied across it to keep the smaller birds and animals at bay.

She gasped at the realization that she’d left without placing any ropes across the opening. Nellie had been in the cave without any protection. Tears flooded her eyes at her poor judgment. “We’ll come along. Many thanks.”

Torrian reached down to help her to her feet. “You’re overtired, too. Brenna will watch over her so you can get some sleep. You wouldn’t have forgotten the rope when you left if you’d been rested.”

Her gaze locked on his as she stood with his help, and his green eyes offered her something she’d hadn’t experienced in over five summers—comfort and support. And for the second time that day, Heather let herself lean on someone.

***

Quade, Torrian, Logan, and Gwyneth sat gathered in the laird’s solar. Two of Quade’s top guards, stood to the side. Torrian’s da had asked them to his solar to remind them of the importance of always being aware of what took place outside the keep.

Quade sat behind his desk, rubbing the leg that had been bothering him lately, then waved his hand toward the door. “You may go, Seamus. I know you and Mungo will make sure the guards are doing their jobs as always. Just do not allow them to get distracted by idle chatter.”

Unfortunately for the Ramsay guards, Quade had been in the lists with his men when the lass almost ran through their small village without any of his guards at the gate noticing. He was aware of everything.

“Chief, we’ll make certain they understand. My apologies for failing you,” Seamus bowed and turned to leave, Mungo trailing behind him.

As soon as they left, Quade added, “Not that a lass of her size was truly a threat…”

Logan barked, “Her size is of no import. What matters is she almost made it past four of our guards. Torrian was the first to notice her, and he had his back to her. There are many different ways to start an attack, and distracting our guards could be one of them. We must not lose our vigilance.”

“All right, Logan. You’ve made your point, and ‘tis a good one. Now, since the lass is here, what else do we know of her? What clan is she from?”

Torrian filled them in. “We know only what little she’s told us. She lives in a cave on the edge of our land, and she does not identify with any clan. She’s been staying there with her daughter of four summers. I suspect she ran away from some situation. Nellie is four and she’s been in the cave for three years. She must have gone to the cave soon after giving birth to her. She says there is no husband, and she’s happy there. Though she’s agreed to stay here until the wee lassie is better, she does not wish to stay permanently.”

Quade thought for a moment, his fingers steepled in front of him. “‘Tis all you’ve discovered about her?”

“Aye, there is one more thing, but I’d prefer if you do not mention it to the lass. She has the same eye color as Loki.”

“Two different colors?” Quade asked.

“Aye, ‘tis quite rare.”

“They are exactly the same as Loki’s.” Gwyneth agreed with Torrian. “I agree that we not discuss it with her until we speak to Loki. But for now, she’s verra worried about her daughter. Once Nellie begins to heal, I’ll question her further.”

“I hear she dresses as you do, Gwyneth,” Quade said with a smile. “I’d love to know more about her.”

“And in time, you will,” Gwyneth promised.

“Accepted, ‘tis no reason to rush this. She’s welcome to stay, and I hope my wife can help her daughter. There are more pressing matters for us to discuss.”

“Continue.” Logan stared at Torrian. From the nature of his attention, it was clear Torrian was to be the next topic of discussion. The thought came with a fair portion of foreboding.

“Torrian, after much thought, your stepmother and I have decided ‘tis time for you to marry.”

Torrian almost toppled off his stool. So Kyle had spoken true. He had no response at all. None. Everyone in the solar stared at him, waiting for his response, so after a long pause, he decided to give them what they wanted. “Why must I marry? I have no interest in any lass here at all.” Though he wouldn’t admit it, Heather suddenly came to mind unbidden. Of course, she would not be considered a good match since she lived in the wild, but there was something about the lass that was difficult to forget.

There was a smirk at the edges of Quade’s mouth, which only infuriated Torrian more. It was an unusual reaction for him. Torrian prided himself on having a steady demeanor like his father, on being a peacemaker who rarely turned to anger to solve problems. He didn’t get angry.

Until now.

“Well? Why throw that command at me without saying aught else? Da? Uncle Logan? Aunt Gwyneth? Who wants to speak? ‘Tis clear you’re all here to see how this ill news settles on me.”

Quade started to speak, but stopped, his hand hovering in front of his mouth.

“Da. This is not funny! When have you started barking orders at me? Or am I not entitled to choose my own mate as the rest of my family has done? I’ll call Grandmama down to haunt all of you if you continue with this ridiculous notion.” What he wouldn’t give to have his beautiful grandmother at his side this moment. They’d lost Lady Arlene Ramsay almost five years ago, and Torrian still missed her dearly. She would never have encouraged her son to press this issue.

Logan held his hand out before he stood. “Now, hold your tongue, lad. I know this upsets you, but do not start throwing out accusations before you hear who we have in mind. You know as well as the next one that a chieftain’s heir must have his own heirs, and ‘tis near time for you to be started on it.”

“I’m only five and twenty.”

“You’re six and twenty, and your cousin Loki is already married with a bairn on the way.”

Torrian got up out of his seat to pace. Six and twenty? When had that happened? He halted for a second to face his sire. “I know full well what my responsibilities are as your son, Da. Or have you not noticed? But I had thought I would have the right to choose a wife of my own liking.”

“Torrian, calm yourself,” Quade said. “I have mentioned this to you before, yet you still have not courted any lasses. King Alexander mentioned to Logan when he last saw him that he thought he had a good match for you. ‘Tis only fair for you to meet the lass.”

His king had found a match for him? Torrian fell into a chair. This was too much to take in all at once. “All right. I’ll listen. Tell me what you know.”

Logan folded his hands together and waited for Torrian to give him his attention. “Are you ready to hear me out?” Uncle Logan and Aunt Gwyneth had both worked for the crown many times over the years, sometimes as spies. They were very familiar with King Alexander, though they had another contact, Hamilton, with whom they worked more frequently.

“Aye. I said I’d listen.”

“True, but are you open to this suggestion, or are you already rejecting it as a possibility?”

Torrian closed his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I shall listen to what you have to say. You have my undivided attention.”

Logan nodded and said, “The king has asked if you would consider marrying Davina of Buchan in Perthshire. She is a lovely lass of ten and nine summers. I’ve seen her myself, so I can attest to her beauty. The Buchans have been having some issues with their neighboring clans, so they do not wish to marry her to anyone nearby. They are interested in an alliance with the Ramsays. You are the eldest male, and they are requesting a betrothal to the laird’s son. Gregor is near ten years younger than you, so he does not suit. Now, do you have aught you’d like to ask me?”