“What if she tells the clan folks that ye are the killer? The Laird MacGregor’s brother has been called to find the killer. If he learns of her words, ye would be taken.”
“I hear ye, Rannoch.”
Rannoch knew when his cousin wanted a conversation to end, so he stopped talking about Ceana. There was silence between the two men that echoed against the large room walls, but neither spoke until Tam came into the room. From the smirk on his face, it was obvious that he had heard parts of their conversation. Torcall already wore a frown that warned the younger man of his words even before he spoke them. But Tam was never one to read the atmosphere of any room he walked into.
“Oh, poor Torcall is sad. The love of his life called him a killer,” Tam sang as he came to the table.
Torcall rose onto his feet in anger, and Tam stopped in his tracks.
“She is nae the love of me life, and it does nae matter if she spoke out of turn to me. It is me concern and nae yers,” Torcall told Tam.
Tam stood unapologetic, waiting for Torcall to attempt to attack him first. Neither man moved, each spoiling for a fight but waiting on the other to make the first move. Rannoch sighed. He had seen the scene play itself out between the two men many times. Tam liked Ceana and her sister Alina, and that often put him in Torcall’s crosshairs.
Rannoch rose and walked to his younger brother. “Nae tonight,” he told his brother. “We should leave Torcall to himself tonight.”
Tam glared at Torcall one last time before turning and following his brother out of the dining room. Torcall sank back in his chair and sighed deeply. The silence of the large room overwhelmed him. Without anyone to talk to, he felt his sadness seeping back in. Determined not to allow it to thrive a second time, he rose back to his feet and headed up to his chamber. With the help of little mead, he found sleep.
* * *
“Nay!” Torcall yelled as he came to wake from his slumber. His chest heaved heavily as his heart pounded in his chest from the trauma that he had experienced. He had dreamt of his parents again, and though he had not awoken with tears in his eyes, his bed was soaked in his sweat. It had been as though he had fought a battle in his sleep.
Sitting up in his bed, he relived his nightmare again. He saw his parents die again. Because it had been a dream, he had felt and heard everything. He had heard the breath leave their lungs and had felt their end as though it had happened to him. Laird MacGregor had come to him and apologized for not saving his parents, but Torcall had felt nothing. An apology had done nothing to save them in his nightmare or bring them back to life when he had woken from it.
Disgusted by his sweat and self-perceived weakness, he went out of the house and made his way to the stables.
Though everyone was advised to get indoors early, Torcall wasn’t afraid of the mysterious killer that all feared lurked in the shadows of the night. He got onto his horse and rode into the night.
At first, he had no idea where he would ride to. His first instinct had been to ride for Ceana’s home as he had done the night before, but he slew the thought as soon as it had found a voice in his head.The loch,he decided, knowing that she would not be there, and he would have it all to himself. So, he rode for the loch.
So, when he got there, he tied his horse and put his sword at the bank of the lake where he could reach it if he needed to defend himself. He swam until he lost his fatigue and was clean of his sweat. He came out of the lake and dried himself. Sitting by himself a little, he reveled in the cold twilight breeze of the morning before boredom overcame him.
He walked with his stead by his side and made the long walk back to his uncle’s manor. He was still a long way from the manor when he suddenly heard a scream. It was a woman. At that time of the day, he feared the worst and unsheathed his sword before he ran for the source of the scream.
I pray I am nae late.
Chapter Sixteen
Ceana was privy to one of the day's mysteries as she stayed awake and witnessed the night become day. While that might have fascinated her on a day when her mind was not plagued by the thoughts of a man, she did not have that luxury that morning. Her stomach growled, but she was too lazy to get out of bed and made herself some odd hour breakfast.
So, she waited with her eyes and ears glued to the non-activity of the window for hours until she began to doze off. Several times, she fought it off, but it was never a race to beat sleep. However, it was just a race to last long enough to hear Torcall magically appear at her window.
Sitting there, she relived the night he had come to steal her away from her room. She had been as scared as she had been thrilled, making her way through her window for the first time since she could remember. Running her hands over her neck, she remembered the feel of his warm breath so close to her skin, the warmth and the fresh manly scent of him. Her hands came down between her breasts, and she imagined what it would have been like if he had been a tad adventurous that fateful night.
Where are ye? she asked herself. She begged the fae that were believed to roam the twilight of the day, if they still existed, to bring him to her. It was a selfish wish, but it was one that she was willing to sell her soul for.
Where are ye?She asked again.
Are ye still mad at me?She wondered, but he wasn’t there to answer her. She could not see his face, so she could not tell if he still held a grudge against her. Torcall was known for his temper even though she had never felt it directed at her, and she trusted him enough to know he would never lay a hand on her in a feat of anger.
A piercing scream of a woman in pain jolted Ceana. She jumped onto her feet when she heard the scream from outside. It was almost inhuman, and she was certain she had never heard any human or animal sound like that in her life. It frightened her greatly and made her shiver to her very bones.
The scream came again, and this time was cut short. There was a finality about it that made Ceana fear that whatever or whoever was out there had known excruciating pain and might have just made the last sound they were capable of. As much as Ceana dreaded the thought, she feared it was true.
She ran out of her room and hurried to her parents’ room. She came to the door, and there was Alina, wrapped in herarasaidas was Ceana. The two weary-eyed sisters regarded themselves without words before they pushed the door open and came to their parents, who were both awake. There wasn’t a soul who had been awake to hear the scream that would have been able to find sleep after.
“We heard it,” her father told them. Their mother was already off her bed and had pulled her two daughters into hugs.
“Ceana, come with me,” her father said as he got off the bed. He pulled out his sword from beneath his bed and headed for the door.
