My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) by Vonda Sinclair Page A
Authors: Vonda Sinclair
Tags: Romance
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He glanced around.
Jessie nodded, admiring the polished oak ceiling, the carved pillars and beams. Her favorite were the stained glass windows, not so bright and colorful now since the sun was hidden by the clouds. "My father had it built last year, just before his death."
Torrin frowned. "I was sorry to hear of his passing."
"I thank you." She appreciated his compassionate tone, but it also made her a bit tongue-tied. " Da's tomb is here." She walked toward the front of the church and stopped before a plaque. Griff MacKay's face was carved into the stone along with his name and position. Though she hadn't been as close to her father as she might have been if she'd stayed here all her life, she did miss him intensely. He had been a good man and a much admired chief.
"I remember him." Torrin smiled. "A jovial and boisterous man with red hair and blue eyes."
"Aye. And very tall and strong." What a great warrior he had been when she was small. Sadness caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. "When I was a wee lass, he would carry me around on his shoulder, and I felt like I was on top of the world." Her eyes burned with tears.
"I know you must miss him," Torrin said in a quiet tone.
"Aye. 'Twas never the same after Da remarried. Maighread wanted me out of her sight. 'Twas one reason I was sent to foster with the Keiths . I was never as close to Da after that."
Torrin's gaze dropped. "At least your father cared for you."
"Yours didn't?"
Torrin shook his head, his face taking on a morose expression she had not seen from him before. "Nay. He was a tyrant. He beat my brother and me every chance he got. I tried to protect Nolan from his wrath but it rarely helped. As we got older, Father focused most of his abuse on Nolan, for he was always displeased with him. I think that's why he became an outlaw. He turned out just like Father, being vile to people. Or mayhap 'twas simply in his blood."
"You're not like that," Jessie said, just above a whisper. Was he? Though she hadn't known Torrin long, she was fairly certain he wasn't as ruthless as she'd first thought.
Torrin shook his head. "I'm more like my grandfather. Levelheaded. I like to think things through before doing anything drastic." He stared directly into her eyes. "I don't make rash decisions. That should tell you something."
She glanced away, unable to hold his intense gaze for more than a few seconds. "What should it tell me?"
When he remained silent for a long moment, she found it necessary to meet his gaze again. What she saw in his eyes was as turbulent as the storm overhead.
"Asking Dirk for your hand was not a rash decision. I'd had plenty of time to think about it, and you, during the month I was here last winter."
Jessie's face heated and she paced away from him, a slight panic making her heart beat harder. "But we didn't talk. You didn't know me."
" 'Twas not for lack of trying. You avoided me."
Just as she wished she could avoid him now, but she couldn't venture out into the storm. Refusing to show fear, she faced him. "Well, I'm sure you can understand why now, after what I witnessed."
"Aye. I can. But now that you ken the truth and have gotten to know me, 'haps you will reconsider."
Fear latched onto her. She stepped back and lowered her gaze. "You will have to be patient. I still don't know you very well." Since MacBain's rejection, she'd faced the fact and grown used to the idea that she would never marry. Given the things that had happened in her past—that first broken betrothal, then the horrid trial marriage—all thoughts of marriage were dark and unhappy. She loved her family and wanted to stay with them, especially since Dirk had returned and her despicable stepmother was gone. She had become best friends with Dirk's wife, Isobel. The past six months had been some of the happiest of her life.
"I've thought about you every day since we met last November," Torrin said, his deep voice barely audible over the rolling thunder.
She'd be
Jessie nodded, admiring the polished oak ceiling, the carved pillars and beams. Her favorite were the stained glass windows, not so bright and colorful now since the sun was hidden by the clouds. "My father had it built last year, just before his death."
Torrin frowned. "I was sorry to hear of his passing."
"I thank you." She appreciated his compassionate tone, but it also made her a bit tongue-tied. " Da's tomb is here." She walked toward the front of the church and stopped before a plaque. Griff MacKay's face was carved into the stone along with his name and position. Though she hadn't been as close to her father as she might have been if she'd stayed here all her life, she did miss him intensely. He had been a good man and a much admired chief.
"I remember him." Torrin smiled. "A jovial and boisterous man with red hair and blue eyes."
"Aye. And very tall and strong." What a great warrior he had been when she was small. Sadness caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. "When I was a wee lass, he would carry me around on his shoulder, and I felt like I was on top of the world." Her eyes burned with tears.
"I know you must miss him," Torrin said in a quiet tone.
"Aye. 'Twas never the same after Da remarried. Maighread wanted me out of her sight. 'Twas one reason I was sent to foster with the Keiths . I was never as close to Da after that."
Torrin's gaze dropped. "At least your father cared for you."
"Yours didn't?"
Torrin shook his head, his face taking on a morose expression she had not seen from him before. "Nay. He was a tyrant. He beat my brother and me every chance he got. I tried to protect Nolan from his wrath but it rarely helped. As we got older, Father focused most of his abuse on Nolan, for he was always displeased with him. I think that's why he became an outlaw. He turned out just like Father, being vile to people. Or mayhap 'twas simply in his blood."
"You're not like that," Jessie said, just above a whisper. Was he? Though she hadn't known Torrin long, she was fairly certain he wasn't as ruthless as she'd first thought.
Torrin shook his head. "I'm more like my grandfather. Levelheaded. I like to think things through before doing anything drastic." He stared directly into her eyes. "I don't make rash decisions. That should tell you something."
She glanced away, unable to hold his intense gaze for more than a few seconds. "What should it tell me?"
When he remained silent for a long moment, she found it necessary to meet his gaze again. What she saw in his eyes was as turbulent as the storm overhead.
"Asking Dirk for your hand was not a rash decision. I'd had plenty of time to think about it, and you, during the month I was here last winter."
Jessie's face heated and she paced away from him, a slight panic making her heart beat harder. "But we didn't talk. You didn't know me."
" 'Twas not for lack of trying. You avoided me."
Just as she wished she could avoid him now, but she couldn't venture out into the storm. Refusing to show fear, she faced him. "Well, I'm sure you can understand why now, after what I witnessed."
"Aye. I can. But now that you ken the truth and have gotten to know me, 'haps you will reconsider."
Fear latched onto her. She stepped back and lowered her gaze. "You will have to be patient. I still don't know you very well." Since MacBain's rejection, she'd faced the fact and grown used to the idea that she would never marry. Given the things that had happened in her past—that first broken betrothal, then the horrid trial marriage—all thoughts of marriage were dark and unhappy. She loved her family and wanted to stay with them, especially since Dirk had returned and her despicable stepmother was gone. She had become best friends with Dirk's wife, Isobel. The past six months had been some of the happiest of her life.
"I've thought about you every day since we met last November," Torrin said, his deep voice barely audible over the rolling thunder.
She'd be
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