She stopped and turned. Almost running into her, Torrin grasped her arms, steadying them both.

"I'm barren," she said. Her throat tightened and closed and tears burned her eyes. She tore herself away from his hold and ran toward the castle gates.

"Jessie," he called after her, but she didn't stop.

There, she'd told him the truth, the reason they couldn't marry. They didn't suit at all because he needed an heir more than anything, and she couldn't provide one.

***

A quarter hour later, Torrin knocked at Jessie's bedchamber door. The woman he wanted for his wife was not barren. 'Twas impossible. He refused to believe it.

Her kiss had bewitched him. Once his lips had touched hers, he'd been certain she was the only woman for him. Never had a kiss affected him so profoundly. 'Twas not only the lust which had consumed his body, but his heart had somersaulted within his chest. She was the woman he'd dreamed of the whole of his life.

He knocked again.

"Who is it?" Jessie's muffled response came from inside the room.

"Me. Torrin."

"What do you want?"

"To talk." That much should be obvious to her.

"There is naught to talk about," she assured him in a firm voice.

"I disagree," he growled. They had plenty to talk about. He had imagined her as the mother of his children for more than six months. And now, to suddenly be told that wouldn't be possible was a blow to his vitals.

"Did you not hear what I said outside?" she demanded.

"Of course, I heard. 'Tis why I'm here now. How do you ken 'tis true?"

"How do you think?" she practically yelled through the door. "When I was with MacBain, I was unable to conceive a bairn."

"Iosa is Muire Mhàthair." He detested the sound of MacBain's name, and to once again imagine the bastard lying with Jessie gutted him.

A chambermaid approached along the corridor. Once she had disappeared into a room, he turned back to the door. "Let me in. I want to talk about this in private. Servants are passing by."

"How grand," she muttered. "Gossip will be all over the castle by morn." She removed the bar from the door and opened it. "Very well. Do come in, m'laird. This is not at all scandalous," she said in an impertinent tone.

He slammed the door closed and barred it. When he faced her and saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, annoyance pounded through him. Not annoyance at her but at the situation. "Mayhap MacBain is not as virile as he thinks," he said.

She shrugged. "He was able to sire a son with his lovely wife after that."

"How many times did you lie with him?" Torrin hated the image in his head of Jessie with that whoreson. It made him want to break MacBain's nose again, along with a few of his limbs.

"I didn't count. 'Twas three months."

"Were you not in the trial marriage for a year and a day?"

"Aye, but he lost interest and found a prettier lass to secretly spend his nights with."

"There could be no prettier lass than you," Torrin muttered, remembering how her hair had shimmered like red flames in the sunlight today, and her eyes had rivaled the bright blue sky. Now, in the dimness of the room, the colors were more subdued but no less beautiful.

"I thank you, but…" She shook her head, tears dripping onto her cheeks.

He wanted to hold her in his arms, brush all her tears away, then kiss her, but he was unsure what her response would be. Seeing her cry was like a punch to the gut. "I should've hurt MacBain worse than I did. Should've broken both his legs."

"Nay. There was no need. I just hope he stays gone."

"Why did you not leave him when he turned his attention to the other woman?"

"I had no proof. Besides, 'twas against the agreement I'd signed. I had to stay for a year and a day, no matter what, other than physical abuse of course."

"He didn't abuse you?"

"He never hit me, if that's what you mean. But he could be rather insulting at times. My father regretted making the arrangement, but there was naught either of us could do until the year was up, because MacBain kept the other woman a secret. There were rumors, but I didn't know who she was at the time. Only later did I find out he married her soon after I left."

Torrin paced before the small fireplace where a low fire burned. "Well, simply because you lay with MacBain off and on for three months and didn't conceive doesn't mean you're barren."

"'Haps you're right. But you're a chief and will want an heir. I'm certain marrying me would be a risk you wouldn't wish to take. And I refuse to sign another trial marriage agreement. Men have no concept of what that does to a woman."

Some called the trial marriage handfasting, and he could see the benefit of it. But now he tried to imagine the situation from the female viewpoint… from Jessie's viewpoint. 'Twas indeed a precarious position for a woman. A marriage might hinge on whether or not she was able to conceive. In any case, he wouldn't ask that of her. He wanted a real marriage. "I'm sorry you went through that. I can tell 'twas hard for you and it left some lasting damage."

She nodded, gazing into his eyes with a bit more trust than before. "'Tis not something I want to experience again. I've had two broken engagements. The first time, I was betrothed to one of the Keith allies, but he disappeared the day before the wedding and I never saw him again."

"A daft fool," Torrin muttered. What was wrong with these imbecilic men? Now only was Jessie a stunningly beautiful woman, she was also strong, tall and proud. A warrior princess? A goddess? Aye, indeed.

"Mayhap he had a premonition about—"

"Jessie," Torrin chided softly. "Don't say it. You're not barren."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. There's only one way to know for sure." Aye, he was ready for the challenge.

Jessie narrowed her eyes, glaring at him, but now—since the kiss—he saw more than just her ire. The way her pale blue eyes darkened told him she was more than interested in his suggestion. The way her hands had dug into his hair and held his head had told him she'd relished the kiss.

"Would it be so terrible?" he asked.

"For you, nay."

"You enjoyed the kiss near as much as I did. You cannot lie about that. And I can guarantee you will not leave my bed unsatisfied."

"Must you be so vulgar?"

Wry amusement came over him. "I was but speaking the truth, m'lady. And furthermore, I promise to give you pleasures such as you have never experienced before."

"'Tis but a game to you, aye?" she snapped. "This is my life we're talking about."

Frustration and need gored him. He knew he was right; he simply needed to prove it to her. "You want to live your whole life never knowing whether or not you're barren?"

She shook her head and stared into the fire's embers for a few moments. "It matters not. Birthing a bairn might kill me anyway."

Fear sliced through him. Every man's worst nightmare—the wife he loved dying while trying to bring their child into the world. "Why do you say that?" he demanded.

"My mother died giving birth to me. 'Tis not that rare."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"For a long time, I felt I was to blame."

"Nay. How could you be?"

She shrugged. "I know these things happen sometimes and no one is to blame."