Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“You had a wise da,” Torin said with a bit of envy. “My da taught me little.”
“Nonsense. He taught you something particularly important,” she insisted.
Nothing she said could prove her words right, but he asked, “How so?”
“Your da’s example taught you how not to be a da, an important lesson for you will know how to be a good and loving da.”
Torin was shocked silent. He had never even considered that, but his wife was right. He would not be like his da to his children. He wanted more with them. He wanted to love them and have them love him and teach them what they needed to know to not only survive in this world but to have a good life.
He gazed at his wife, smiling as she extended her hand out to catch the falling snowflakes and at that moment realized just how perfect she was for him. She would not only teach their children much, but she would also teach him as well.
“My da laughed at me when I was very young as he watched me try to catch a snowflake. He thought to tease me, telling me if I could catch one, I could keep it.” Flora laughed. “He was surprised when I informed him that that was nonsense since a snowflake would melt when touched. That was the day he began to teach me how to read.”
“Your da sounds like he was an amazing man and a loving da.”
“He was,” she said and hugged his arm. “I think that is why the dreams I have of him and my mum disturb me so much.”
“I am glad you are here,” Iona called out as they approached her cottage.
Annoyance poked at Torin. He had hoped his wife would finally share her dream, though more a nightmare, with him, but at least now he knew that she had experienced more than the one he knew about and that they concerned her parents.
“I was with an ill bairn when the incident took place, but Kinnell made sure I learned about it. Do you suffer any pain?” Iona asked.
Torin answered, “Her back.”
“Let me have a look and I will see what can be done,” Iona said and reached out to take Flora’s arm while dismissing Torin with a wave of her hand. “We need no help from you, my lord.”
“Help or not, I will see for myself what she suffers,” Torin ordered to Iona’s surprise.
Iona bobbed her head. “As you wish, my lord.”
Flora’s eyes went wide as soon as she stepped into Iona’s cottage. Crocks sat on tabletops, dried plants hung from the ceiling, and a large mortar and pestle sat on the table in front of the hearth, a bunch of dried leaves lying next to it waiting to be crushed.
A plethora of scents struck Flora’s nose and questions slipped over her tongue eager to be asked. Unfortunately, her husband was quick to stop her.
“Do not think to ask Iona endless questions. You are here for her to see to your care, nothing else,” Torin ordered.
“Another time, Iona,” Flora said.
Iona nodded. “Whenever you wish, my lady. Now tell me what pains you.”
Torin listened to his wife detail her pain and even offer an explanation for it. He then watched as Iona pressed along the areas that Flora pointed out to her. He winced when his wife did as if he felt her pain.
Iona handed a small crock to Torin. “My lady probably suffered a bruise. Rub this on the spot for a couple of days. It will help heal her.”
Torin took it with a nod, thinking about the control he would need when he applied the slave to his wife’s naked skin.
“I took a quick look at the dead man. No bruises. I would say that his life ended quickly without much of a fight,” Iona said.
Torin nodded. “That is good to know.”
Flora waited until they stepped outside to say, “If there was not much of a fight would that mean Walsh caught the man unaware and did not wait to kill him. But why? The only reasonable explanation would be to silence him, which would mean Walsh knew why the man was there in the first place.”
CHAPTER 13
Early evening found Torin staring at the crock of salve on the table, though it was more like the crock of salve stared at him, taunting, poking, teasing him. He and Flora had discussed Walsh and the incident while they ate supper. They had also discussed how things were going in the keep and all the while the crock tormented him.
Flora stretched herself off the chair, her arms spreading wide before she winced and reached behind her to rub just above her right hip and winced again. She lowered her arms, yawned, then snatched up the small crock.
Torin sprung forward in his chair. “I can see to that for you.”