"Nay." Disappointment weighed heavily upon him. "She won't agree to it yet."
"Why?"
"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but… she thinks she's barren. I don't believe it. But because I'm a chief who needs an heir, she won't allow me to make that sacrifice. I'd marry her either way."
"Well, that's between you and Jessie. I'll not interfere."
"I wish you would. As her brother and the chief, you could force her to marry me." Torrin allowed a small smile, halfway teasing.
Dirk snorted. "I don't think anyone can force Jessie to do anything she doesn't want to. She's lethal with a knife, you ken."
"She is, indeed. I've seen her in action."
Dirk raised a brow.
"With a knife," Torrin added, wondering if Dirk would force Jessie to marry him, or kill him, if he knew they'd shared a bed. Torrin probably shouldn't risk it. Besides, it would embarrass Jessie. And of a certainty, he didn't want to tell Dirk that Jessie had knocked him to the ground when he wasn't paying attention.
"I also want to thank you for rescuing Aiden," Dirk said. "Without doubt, Haldane would've killed him, too, given the opportunity."
"I was glad to help. Aiden is a good man, even if he is a wee bit naïve."
"He is that. He wants to believe, deep down, everyone is as kind-hearted as he is. We're going to have a brief funeral for Haldane out on the cliffs. Aiden wants to play the pipes as a final tribute."
Torrin nodded, imagining the clan out there with the wind off the North Sea whipping their plaids and carrying away the high skirl of the bagpipes.
'Twas
far better than Haldane deserved, considering how horridly he'd treated his siblings and clan. But Torrin would do the same for his own brother, once he found his burial site.
"Since McMurdo and MacBain are still on the loose, I'm not allowing any of the ladies to attend the funeral," Dirk said.
"I'm glad."
"All the men will be heavily armed, except for Reverend
MacMahon
."
"Is Aiden angry with me for killing his brother?" Torrin asked.
"Nay. He knew someone would have to kill Haldane to stop him."
"What of the
MacBains
?" Torrin asked. Iain and his men had already told him
Gregor
MacBain was not among the dead on the beach, but he wondered if Dirk knew anything more about the knave.
"Eight of them died in the skirmish, and the rest fled over the hill. We found where they'd had their horses hidden in the trees and bushes in a small glen. They rode south. We also found Gil there, dead. One of the
MacBains
must have killed him."
"Haldane's archer?" Torrin asked, recalling how the lad had shot an arrow at him, then run away like a coward while Jessie hung off the cliff.
"Aye."
"I thought they were on the same side. Why would the
MacBains
kill him?"
"I have no inkling, unless they felt betrayed somehow."
Torrin shook his head. "I don't think I've seen the last of that
Gregor
MacBain bastard."
***
Three days later, Torrin was well enough to venture down to the great hall for the feast Dirk had ordered prepared. The servants had decorated the large room with heather, greenery and sweet-scented wildflowers. But his favorite part was sitting beside Jessie.
Though in horrible pain at times, as well as a bit lightheaded and queasy, Torrin had enjoyed spending time with Jessie during the last three days. Since he had improved quickly, she hadn't spent all night with him again. She'd brought him every meal, but he had insisted on feeding himself.
His men, Iain, Aiden, several of the
MacKays
, Rebbie, Cyrus, and even Erskine had visited him often. He was certain they'd all assisted in his recovery. Jessie had helped, especially, for each day he grew more and more certain that she loved him, though she hadn't said so again. She didn't need to; the affectionate look in her bright blue eyes said it all, as did her warm and caring touch.
Further along the high table, Dirk arose from his chair, tapping his knife against his silver goblet of wine, and everyone grew quiet. "We're extremely happy and thankful that Chief MacLeod, Erskine, Marston, Boyce, and Edwin are recovered from their injuries enough to join us in the great hall for supper." He raised his goblet. "
Slàinte
."
A cheer went up from the three dozen or so people in the great hall and everyone drank to their health.
"I have another announcement," Dirk said, a smile curving his lips. "Lady Isobel and I are greatly pleased to say we will soon be the proud parents of the possible next chief of Clan MacKay." Dirk leaned down and kissed Isobel's cheek.
Another loud cheer went up.
Saints!
Torrin hadn't expected that announcement, but he was thrilled for them.
Torrin squeezed Jessie's hand beneath the table. She glanced at him, smiling, but he could see a wee bit of bittersweet sadness in her expression, and she didn't look the least bit surprised. He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping she would believe that one day they could share the same news with both their clans.
He leaned toward her and murmured, "You knew about this, didn't you?"
She nodded.
"And you didn't tell me?"
She shrugged. "Women talk about all sorts of things behind closed doors."
"Ah. I see. Does that mean you've talked about me?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
She grinned. "I'll never tell."
"You have," he accused, teasing. "I know you have."
From the corner of her eyes, she sent him an impish glance.
The meal was served and Torrin ate as much as he could. His appetite hadn't returned fully, but he was feeling stronger every day. Mostly, he wanted to take Jessie and escape the great hall.
Tarts and various kinds of sweets were served at the end of the meal. Torrin didn't want any, but he enjoyed watching Jessie consume the blueberry tart. Torrin was also glad to see Aiden take up his violin and head to the center of the room.
"For Lady Isobel!" Aiden announced over the loud roar of conversation, then he launched into a beautiful tune, his bow flying over the violin strings. Isobel clapped, a broad smile upon her face. It must have been her favorite song.
Once the dancing started a few minutes later, Torrin told Jessie, "I think I'll speak to Dirk and Isobel, then retire for the evening."
"Oh." She frowned. "Are you in pain?"
"No more than usual. Just tired." He pushed his chair back and stood. "Would you like to accompany me?" He hoped she would; he wanted a few moments alone with her while everyone else was occupied.
"Aye," she said, rising from her seat.
They made their way to Dirk and Isobel. Torrin offered Dirk his hand. "Congratulations, my friend. You will both make excellent parents."
Dirk gave him a firm handshake. "I thank you. And I want you to know I consider you a good friend and a strong ally."
Minutes later, Torrin and Jessie entered his chamber, and she closed the door.
"I'm truly happy for them," Torrin said. "And I hope you don't feel badly in any way. I pray that one day, we'll be able to make such an announcement."
She gave him a sad smile, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm thrilled for them, too, of course. But, aye, I can't help but be a wee bit envious. I shouldn't be, for Dirk and Isobel have been married for seven months, and she's been worried the entire time about not conceiving more quickly. But you remember that Isobel was poisoned last winter from the tart."
"Aye, of course."
"Some thought that might have been the reason for the delay."
He nodded and drew Jessie into his arms. She slid her hands over his shoulders and around his neck.
"I don't want you to worry over it." He kissed her forehead.
She shook her head. "I won't."
"I don't believe you, but you're making a good effort."
She gave him a defiant smile. "I'm glad you were able to eat supper with us downstairs. It shows how much you've improved."
"Aye. Tomorrow, I may be well enough for jousting."
She snickered.
"What I truly want to be well enough for is… a different kind of sport." He lifted a brow, hoping she grasped his meaning.
She narrowed her eyes, but smiled all the same while her cheeks turned rosy.
"
Bedsport
," he clarified.
"I'm well aware of your meaning, you rogue. But you are certainly not well enough for that yet."
"Nay, but 'haps tomorrow," he said.
She shook her head. "You're growing insensible. You'd best get into bed and drink some of Flora's tea."
"I'll need a kiss first. The real kind." Over the past few days, she had given him some affectionate kisses on the forehead when no one was looking, and he'd kissed her hand as often as he could grasp hold of it, but he was now ready for the kind of scorching kisses they'd shared before he'd been injured.
"Just a kiss. That's all," she said, stern but with a playful gleam in her eye.
"Though I hate to admit it, 'tis all I'm capable of at the moment." A certain part of him was willing and able, but 'twas the muscles of his abdomen that could not handle the task.
She rose up on her tiptoes and met his lips. "
Mmm
." Her mouth felt so good beneath his, he near went mad. He loved the way she always opened to him, and the way she teased his tongue with hers. She tasted of wine and sweet blueberry tart. He would devour every inch of her, given the chance.
His hands wandered up from her waist, and he stroked a thumb over her nipple, finding it hard and so enticing.
Saints!
How he wanted to draw it deeply into his mouth.
Someone screeched. "M'lady!" Then the door slammed.
Jessie jerked her arms from around his neck and spun to face the closed door.
"Who was that?" she demanded.
"I think 'twas Flora," he said, though he hadn't truly seen the woman. He'd been too caught up in the kiss to care.
"Now she thinks I'm a strumpet, I'm certain."
"Not if you would marry me."
She glared at him, though 'twas not a fully serious glare, merely one that warned him to not bring up the subject. But he couldn't help it. Much as it might pain her to discuss the matter, her refusal to marry him pained him just as much.
***
Torrin joined Dirk and the other men in the solar as they sipped whisky late one night. In the two weeks since his injury, Torrin had made a lot of progress. He was gaining strength every day and was able to stay up all day now. His abdomen was still sore from his wounds but the stitches had been removed and the cuts were healed closed. He knew '
twould
take much longer to rebuild the strength of those muscles, but he'd already been working on it. He'd even practiced with his sword a bit, though he knew Iain had gone easy on him.
"We're off in the morn," Isobel's brother, Chief Cyrus
MacKenzie
said, referring to him, his younger brother, and their men.