Torrin crossed his arms over his broad chest, eying her with needle-sharp interest. "Why did you use the word murder instead of kill?"

Chapter Five

Jessie watched Torrin cautiously, scarcely able to breathe, her heart thundering in her ears. Why had she let him stand between herself and the library door? Mo chreach. She glanced down, remembering she had not yet retrieved her dirk, and she only had two blades on her person at the moment. One was strapped high on her thigh, and a smaller one was sewn into the hem of her arisaid. She could not get to either of them easily.

But deep down she believed Torrin wouldn't hurt her, no matter what she might say. He'd rescued her from MacBain, after all. Could she tell him she knew he'd killed her foster brother all those years ago? Could she ask him why? Or would it be a grand mistake? Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to be courageous.

"Because… I know. I saw what you did," she said, watching Torrin's face closely.

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Eight years ago in Caithness. On Keith lands."

Torrin's eyes narrowed upon her, giving her that lethal look. "What did you see?"

She swallowed hard and forced herself not to retreat a few steps like she wanted. He must not know how much she feared him. "I saw you murder Lyall Keith."

Torrin shook his head, his eyes reflecting sadness instead of anger or guilt. "I didn't murder him," he said in a calm tone. "He'd raped and murdered my sister. 'Twas justice."

Disbelief struck Jessie, knocking her back a step. "What? Lyall did that?"

"Aye. Besides, he had a sword. 'Twas a fair fight."

His unruffled composure confused her, turned everything she knew on its head. Was he telling the truth?

"Did you know him well, then?" Torrin asked.

"He was my foster brother. I fostered with the Keiths for several years. And afterward, I went back to visit often."

"Saints," Torrin hissed. "All I know about him is he was a rapist and a murderer, and my sister wasn't the only one to suffer at his hand."

How could this be possible? She had always thought Lyall kind and trustworthy. "Maybe there was a mistake. How do you ken 'twas him?"

"'Twas no mistake. My sister lived for two days after the bastard raped and beat her. Allina had several injuries and lost a great deal of blood." Pain glinted in Torrin's eyes. "She told us who did it. We'd both met Lyall Keith a week or so before. You see, I'd taken her to stay with our aunt near Lairg. Keith was staying there, too, along with several others. Allina had a mare she was mad about, and she'd gone out to the stables one evening to give her an apple. That's when the Keith bastard and his friend captured her." Anger glinting in his eyes, Torrin shook his head. "When I went back to bring her home, they said she'd disappeared and had been gone all night and half the day. I took a search party out looking for her. We found her knocked out and almost dead in the nearby wood. She was covered in blood and bruises. She was so pale," Torrin said in a near whisper and closed his eyes briefly, no doubt seeing her and reliving the horror of the moment.

Held within the grips of shock and Torrin's palpable emotions, Jessie held her breath.

"We took her back to my aunt's home where she awakened for a short time and told us who'd done this to her," he continued. "We also found a button from the bastard's doublet there in the wood with her, carved with the Keith crest. How I wish I'd come a day earlier so I could've stopped them," Torrin growled through clenched teeth. "I would've torn them limb from limb."

When she imagined the pain and terror his sister must have endured, tears filled Jessie's eyes. And to see his raw pain clawed at her own emotions.

"I am sorry. I didn't know," she whispered.

"Nay. How could you?" he asked in a calmer tone. "I didn't want to kill him. 'Twas what had to be done. The clan and my father expected it. Demanded it. As the future chief, I felt it was my responsibility. Sometimes the only law or justice in the Highlands is our own. If we'd taken it to the authorities, 'twould have been a dead woman's word against the Keith chief's son. Who do you think they would've believed?"

Jessie nodded, knowing that without a living witness to the crime, Lyall would've likely gotten away with the murder. But clans didn't allow such injustice. They took the law and revenge into their own hands. An eye for an eye.

"As I'm sure you recall, we had a skirmish," Torrin said. "He had a weapon and 'twas a fair fight. I'm not to blame for him being a bad swordsman."

Jessie wiped at her eyes. "You're right." Still, she couldn't fathom Lyall doing something so brutal as raping and killing a young woman. Jessie hadn't known him at all.

"Where were you?" Torrin asked.

"In the oak tree. I was fond of climbing trees."

His expression lightened. "How old were you then?"

Her face heated. "Sixteen." Too old to be climbing trees, but she loved them so much she did it anyway.

He gave a curious frown. "You didn't report us?"

"I didn't know who you were. I told them what you looked like but I didn't know which clan you were from."

"Well, we were careful to hide our identities and our trail. Will you report us now?"

"Nay." She knew the answer without thinking about it. "If Lyall truly did what you said, then he got no worse than he deserved."

Torrin's gaze lit on her again with penetrating realization. "That's why you've been terrified of me the entire time. You thought I murdered your innocent foster brother."

She nodded.

"What do you think now?" he asked.

"I'm not certain."

"Do you believe me?"

Jessie gazed deeply into his eyes as if looking into his soul, and Torrin loved the sensation of it. Her blue eyes were much softer now, and damned if he didn't want to grab her and kiss her. But he must not. He'd had no inkling that anyone, aside from his own clansmen, had been witness to what he felt was justice being served. Certainly, he couldn't have simply let his sister's murderer go unpunished and free to kill others. And it wasn't just the murder, but also the vicious rape and torturous beating he'd given her. No woman should ever be treated in such a way, certainly not his innocent young sister.

"How old was she?" Jessie asked.

"Allina was seventeen summers. Very beautiful. All the lads were smitten with her." His eyes burned and he shook his head. "She was incredibly kind, loving, and helpful to everyone. She didn't deserve such a horrid end. I'll never understand why." Even his abusive father would not lay a hand on her.

Jessie bit her lip. The tears glistening in her eyes struck him on a deep level. She was a compassionate person, and she understood how he felt. He'd never wanted to hold her as badly as he did right now. But he couldn't. 'Twas too soon. She must trust him first.

"I cannot fathom Fate, or why God would allow such suffering and injustice," he said.

"None of us do," she whispered. "But I can understand why you did it. I know if someone were to murder Aiden or Dirk, I'd want to kill them, too. I'm not saying I would but…"

He nodded. Though he often saw her as a warrior princess, he now knew she was too compassionate to kill anyone, unless forced to, and he loved that about her. "For men, 'tis often different, especially for those of us who have been in battles," he said. "Usually 'tis a case of kill or be killed, you ken? Those are the choices."