Heart of Shadows (Hearts of the Highlands Book 2), page 16
Her father must have realized the same thing because he called out, “Finish him!”
Torin ducked low, avoiding a blow to the head, and came up swinging his fists. One of them—the one which was wrapped around the hilt of his sword—hit Armstrong in the jaw.
The leader cried out in pain. Torin lifted his boot and kicked him onto his back, and then fell upon him. He held up his sword and looked ready to plunge it into the man who had kidnapped her.
“Torin, no!” Braya called out and ran to him. “We will never have peace with the Armstrongs if you kill him.”
He turned to look at her as she dropped to her knees beside him.
“Please! Please, show him mercy!”
She wasn’t sure he would, and it pricked at her heart. She knew Galien wouldn’t show mercy. In this case, she didn’t think her father would either. Men and their pride. What had been done, had been done to her! If she could show him mercy, why the hell couldn’t they?
He lifted his sword. Her heart accelerated. He drove the blade into the ground and turned back to his prisoner while Braya’s heart melted all over her ribs.
“You will tell the Hetheringtons who put you up to this,” he demanded. “They will know the truth or you will die.”
“Bennett,” the leader cried out, clutching his face. “’Twas the warden.”
Braya didn’t want to believe Bennett would go this far, but he had. She knew her father would never support him after this. She was glad for it all.
“Let us leave this place,” she called out to the others while she stood. She turned to Torin as he straightened and stepped over the Armstrong leader. “Take me home.”
She wanted to hold him, to kiss him. He’d shown mercy when he clearly wanted to kill their enemy. He’d listened to her and done what she’d asked. None of the other men ever listened to her.
Oh, to hell with it! She didn’t care what her family thought. She threw her arms around her knight and fell against him, careful not to bump her bruised jaw. “Thank you, Torin. Thank you for coming for me.”
“Come,” he said in a comforting tone. “We have more to talk about. You will ride back with me on Avalon.”
When she agreed, he turned to the villagers and Armstrong’s guards, even Armstrong himself. “You will not fight on Bennett’s side for any reason or I will come for each of you. As for the Hetheringtons, if you attack them again, you have me, Torin Gray, to worry about. I will not be merciful next time.”
Her family had him. Was he going to settle down here then?
Braya wanted peace but she knew that, sometimes, some people only understood peace through fear. So let them fear Torin Gray. He’d come for her…how had he gained entrance to the village? She knew from past raids that it was almost impenetrable. How did he know where to find her? What other things did he want to speak with her about? She had many questions, but most of all, what had he said or done to quiet Galien?
They left the village and Torin called for his horse. His white and chestnut mare came from out of the trees and raced toward them. Braya thought Avalon was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to ride her.
“She will bite me,” she said as the horse neared.
“I will make certain she does not,” Torin assured her.
Without waiting for her reply, he lifted her up and helped her into the saddle. Avalon spun her head around and Braya was certain she was about to lose a piece of her leg, but Avalon did not bite her. For a moment, Braya had the urge to smile, proud of herself for avoiding Avalon’s ire.
When Torin leaped up behind her, she finally felt safe.
“You will dine with us tonight,” her father invited Torin when he mounted his horse and reached them. “We have things to discuss.”
Torin shook his head. “If Bennett knows she’s free, he will come for her. We cannot stay in your village.”
“Then…” her father’s voice dipped low, “where should she go?”
“She should stay with me.”
Braya’s heart sank and raced at the same time. “Just a moment. What is going on? What else has Bennett done?”
She noted the side-glance her father shot Torin and bristled between his thighs. “What has happened?”
“He wants to marry you.”
She turned around to look in Torin’s eyes and laughed. “I do not care what he wants. He will not have me.”
“He went to great lengths to have you kidnapped, Braya. He wants your family’s protection against the Scots.” He turned to her father. “You should promise your allegiance to him. You do it so that he does not have to marry your daughter to have it. If he questions you further, tell him that I have taken her and that I plan on marrying her.”
Braya turned around completely and gaped at him. “What are you saying?”
“I must keep him from having you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I will not marry you for that reason.”
“Now let me say something,” her father exclaimed. “I did not give you my permission for this.”
“He told me you would have no choice but to agree to a marriage,” Torin argued with him—with them both. “He will not stop at this. I must take you somewhere.”
“Where?” her father demanded.
“I do not know yet.”
“Take her to Rothbury,” Adams suggested. “To the earl. You were employed by him before. I’m sure he will take her in and ’tis far away enough to—”
“I do not wish to go to the Earl of Rothbury!” Braya insisted. “I will not run and hide from Bennett. I will—”
“Do you want us to fight the Scots?” her father asked.
She swallowed and shook her head.
“Then you will do as I say. We will discuss this further with your mother and decide what is best.”
They were quiet for the rest of the ride home. Braya was afraid to turn around and look at Torin. Was he sincere? Would he marry her to keep her safe from Bennett? She would have been more receptive to appreciating him if she didn’t suffer feelings for him. She wanted more than protection. She wanted him to feel something for her, something powerful and profound.
When the Armstrongs took her, she thought about Torin and about the kind of life she would like with him. She knew her family would come for her, but she had no idea what Torin would do. She hadn’t been expecting him to sneak into the house, kill the guards, and rescue her before the afternoon meal.
She leaned back against his chest. He closed his arm around her tighter. Did he care for her? What would happen after he took her to Rothbury? Why the hell did Bennett think she would become his wife? The bastard had her kidnapped! She wanted to kill him the next time she saw him, which was likely why Torin wanted to get her out of Carlisle.
They made it back to the Hetherington holding and were greeted by her mother and Lucy and a dozen others.
Instead of things being spread by word of mouth, they alerted everyone to come to the town hall.
When everyone had arrived, Torin told them that he believed the Scots were coming soon. If the Hetheringtons fought with Bennett and lost, they would pay a heavy price. If they stayed out of it, even if it meant Bennett losing, the Scots would leave them alone.
“You do not have the supreme protection against your enemies that you thought you had,” he told them. “The warden has been behind every raid and the last two attacks to frighten all of you. You,” he pointed to her father, “can gather a thousand men and you would do it because you hate the Scots.”
“Aye,” her father agreed.
“You were easy prey,” Torin told him and looked away before her father glowered at him.
Braya covered her mouth with her hand and smiled at her knight’s boldness. But he was correct, and her father knew it.
“We will not be fighting for him,” her father assured. “Though I do not know why I’m giving you my word.”
“Because your daughter will not be able to stay away if she does not hear you say it.”
Her father settled his loving gaze on hers, and she wiped her eyes yet again. “We will not fight should the Scots come.”
She flung her arms around him and thanked him in his ear. When he let her go, she wanted to throw herself into Torin’s arms next.
“Galien?” she asked her brother. “How about you?”
He scrunched his face at her. “I would never lend my sword to a bastard who had you kidnapped freshly out of your bed and then struck you.”
She smiled at him, though with her wounded jaw, it pained her to do so, thankful for the millionth time that God had sent Torin, a man of peace, into their lives. Even her brother had stopped being so argumentative.
“I will bring her back to you,” he vowed to her parents. “I will bring her to the place Adams suggested earlier.”
They were going to Rothbury then, Braya thought. She would miss everyone terribly, but part of her was thrilled at the idea of a journey into Torin’s past. What were his years like in Rothbury? What would it be like being alone with him every day while they—
“Robbie,” her father said, turning to Mr. Adams. “I would like you to help escort my daughter to her safe haven.”
“Of course,” Mr. Adams said, amused by Torin’s dark glare. Apparently, her knight wanted to be alone with her. She wanted it, too.
“Fine then,” Torin brooded, turning for the doors. “We should go now.”
Braya said her farewells through tears and promises to see her loved ones soon. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do in her life. She made a vow to herself never to do it again. She was glad Torin was staying.
She met him outside a few moments later with Avalon, Archer, and Mr. Adams, ready to go. She knew what the warden had done was unforgivable, but Torin saw him as a threat worthy of his urgency. She hurried to Archer, gained her saddle, and turned her mount north.
An hour later, Torin still hadn’t brought up marrying her. She was beginning to worry that he hadn’t truly meant them. “Why did you come for me?” she asked him, keeping Archer close to Avalon, who didn’t seem to mind at all.
Torin slanted his glance at her and shifted around in the saddle, making Avalon bob her head angrily. He stopped. “Because I was not about to let a man have you through kidnapping.”
That was a pleasing response, but not a personal one. Would he let a man have her through other means? “Hmm,” she murmured. She wished she hadn’t questioned him. She wasn’t prepared for his detached reply.
“What do you mean, hmm?” he asked—demanded really. “What would you have preferred me to say?”
She glared at him. “What do you mean by that? Do you think you are under some kind of spell and you cannot say what you wish to say? It must be what I want?”
“In truth, I do not know—”
“You said what you wanted the first time!”
He blinked as if she slapped him. She smiled at him. She hadn’t realized she’d snapped at him. She didn’t want him to think she was so affected by him.
“What did I say the first time?”
This time, she really did want to slap him. She managed to keep her smile intact while she spoke, “You came for me because you were not about to let a man have me through kidnapping.”
He slanted his gaze toward Mr. Adams and said nothing.
Braya figured it was best this way. He would avoid getting poked with her sword if he kept his mouth shut. She stared at the treetops for a moment or two before her next question popped into her head. “How did you get through the guards in the village and into John Armstrong’s house?”
“Aye,” Mr. Adams agreed. “You have not told us that part. When I arrived and spoke to Braya’s father about your promise to go in alone, find her, and get her the hell out, he told me you said you had done it before, many times.”
Many times? Braya thought. When? As a child thief? A soldier for the Governor of Etal? When he was in Rothbury? There was so much about him she did not know.
“In the past…” he began and paused, then continued. “I have found myself in situations where I needed to get in and out of a place quickly.”
“Why?” Mr. Adams asked.
“He was a child thief,” Braya informed him.
“Oh,” Adams said on a ghostly whisper.
“Come now,” Torin said, sounding impatient, “there is no reason to grow solemn and gloomy over things that canna—ot.” He coughed into his head. “Cannot be changed. We have a long way to ride. At least a day and a half. Let us not drag it out to feel like an eternity.”
Braya agreed. Torin needed to do things that made him laugh once in a while. “The horses are well rested. Let us race them!”
He laughed then leaned over Avalon’s wide neck and stroked her hoary mane. “Your horses would be shamed.”
“Ha!” she shouted with a short laugh then grimaced at the pain from her bruised jaw. “If she is as fast as you are arrogant, then no doubt you are correct. But let us give it a go.” She turned to Mr. Adams with a bright smile, refusing to let pain take her joy. “How about it, Mr. Adams? Are you with us?”
He nodded then flicked his horse’s reins.
“I will give you both a head start,” Torin called out.
Braya shook her head and rode closer to Mr. Adams. “Do not push your mount until the arrogant bastard catches up.”
They both kept a slow pace and waited for him to finally move his arse and go after them. “You are going slow on purpose,” he laughed, reaching them.
“Aye,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell you that you need not play these silly games. I’m going to win. In fact, I will even reach Rothbury before you.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Because if I do not win, you will take my hand in marriage as you told my father you would.”
His laughter faded. “So you are my prize?”
She shook her head, keeping her horse at a slow pace. “Your responsibility. A saint or a shrew, depending on you. But yours if I lose.”
He looked so undecided that, for a moment, she felt insulted. He wouldn’t let her lose. “And if you win?” he finally asked quietly.
“If I win, you can forget I ever existed and go on with your life without me.”
She met his steady green gaze head on and tilted her chin. She would be strong. She would—
He took off with a great heave from Avalon that left Braya and Adams in a cloud of dust. Braya pushed Archer hard, but not too hard. She knew Torin wouldn’t let her lose. She wanted to know what he truly felt about her. Was there anything between them that could become something bigger? Or was he just a kind, merciless knight who would do the same for anyone?
She thought for certain he would slow Avalon and let her win, but he raced with her and Mr. Adams across the valley and over Hadrian’s Wall and laughed when she looked as if she might catch up.
She wished she had answers but she didn’t really care about them right now. The wind whipping through her hair was fragranced with heather and other wildflowers. The sun was warm and full on her face. She felt free of the confines of duty, and raiding, and obeying. She felt seen, and heard. Finally.
She was with Torin. She liked being with him. She saw something in his eyes at times like innocence and purity. She thought it was perhaps so clear to see because it showed in the darkness that captured the rest of him. Could she get through? Could anyone? She thought he felt something for her. Perhaps he didn’t want to, or he was afraid to. She didn’t care. She wanted him in her life. If she had to steal his heart right out of those shadows, she would. She would appeal to the light and force him to decide.
But later.
She didn’t care if Avalon seemed to fly over fields and flowers, or if Torin beat her to their destination, or if Adams beat poor Archer, too. She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself fly.
They stopped in a small tavern in the village of Gilsland for drinks for them and their horses. They didn’t have to open their rations her mother had packed because Torin had coins and used them to buy them food.
“You beat me, my lord,” Braya said playfully while she ate small bites. “You know what that means.”
“No,” he objected. “You said you must reach Rothbury first. That is the end of the race.”
“No,” she said after a moment. “Let us make it whoever enters Lord Rothbury’s home first and then you will tell me if you want to marry me or forget me.”
She stood up and left the table, and Torin and Mr. Adams looked after her.
Her smile faded as she went. What if Torin chose neither? What then?
Chapter Eighteen
They made camp that night on the northern outskirts of Newbrough and sat awake under the stars. Adams rested against the trunk of an old oak tree, while Braya and Torin sat closer to the fire.
Torin thought about what he had told her father to tell Bennett. Torin had taken her away and was going to marry her. He’d said it. He was going to marry her—and now she wanted to know if he meant it. He understood the choices she was giving him and why he believed she was giving them to him. She wanted him to commit to something. At least, that was what Adams had told him.
What the hell did Torin know of love and of a lady’s tender feelings? He would be a terrible husband! He’d thought he’d given her a good answer when she asked him why he’d come for her. But he was incorrect—again, according to Adams. He didn’t know why he’d brought up marriage. She was turning him into a fool.
He would likely marry her if he could. Chances were, the choice would no longer be presented to him.
He didn’t want to have this kind of nonsense clouding his thoughts, affecting his decisions, but he feared it was too late.
“What is Lord Rothbury’s place like?” Adams asked, biting into an apple.
“He lives in Lismoor Castle,” Torin answered. He had never been there. “’Tis a castle just like any other. I should pen a note to him tomorrow and have it sent on ahead so that he can be prepared for us.”
“Is the earl wed?”
Torin looked at Braya and nodded. He hoped so. He hated deceiving her. He knew that the more lies he told her, the harder it would be for her to ever forgive him. Not that she would forgive him anyway.
