Torr noticed the pleasant aroma wasn’t only coming from the brew. When she walked past him, to give him room by the hearth, a sweet scent drifted off her. He also noticed her face appeared freshly scrubbed, her cheeks rosy, and her hair a bit more tamed than usual. And damn if she didn’t look more beautiful than ever.
When he finished cleaning the fish and setting it to cook in the hearth, he took the remains outside to dispose of and to scrub his hands with snow, wishing they smelled a bit more pleasant.
He got his wish when he returned inside.
“I’ve kept a bucket of sweet-scented water warm for you to wash up if you would like,” she said, pointing to a bucket on the table.
Stubborn, reasonable, and now thoughtful, she had a diverse nature, and he liked that.
He scrubbed his hands good and rinsed his face, surprised by how nice he smelled when he finished. After he emptied the bucket outside, he joined Wintra at the table where she had taken a seat.
There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then Torr decided to ask the question that had been playing havoc with his thoughts, though not before he reached out and placed his hand over hers. “What exactly happened with you and Owen in the cottage?”
His touch offered comfort, his voice concern, but she was not ready to share the details of her encounter with Owen just yet. Besides, she did not want to think about it right now, and she found it easy to tell him that. “I would rather not discuss that now.”
“But you will tell me?”
Would she or would she be too embarrassed? She almost laughed. How more embarrassed could she be after having been naked in front of him? Still, though, she feared she would need an extra ounce of courage to discuss it with him.
“You hesitate to answer. Why?”
“It will not be an easy thing for me to discuss with you.”
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “There isn’t anything you cannot discuss with me, Wintra. I want you to remember that. Come to me with anything, now and always.”
Always. But there would not be an always between them and oddly that left her with a sad ache in her heart.
He slipped his hand off hers, and a chill ran through her. She liked his touch, simple or intimate, it didn’t matter. It always felt so wonderful, magical, unbelievable.
Don’t fall prey to a man’s touch and false promises. Put your trust only in your husband.
The nuns’ warning struck her like a cold splash of water in the face. Was she to believe that Torr spoke falsely to her just as Owen had? Was she not to trust any man? And how did she only trust the man who would be her husband when she would not know him at all?
“I know that look. You are sinking deep into thought.”
The question came too quickly to her lips for her to stop it. “Can any man be trusted?” She was surprised and curious that he laughed.
“That is a question pondered by many.”
“Then how do you trust?” she asked perplexed.
“You trust yourself first and you take a chance.”
“Your answer confuses more than explains.”
“Do you trust yourself, your instincts, your thoughts?” he asked.
She thought a moment, then shook her head. “I never gave it thought.”
“Did you trust Owen?”
She opened her mouth to answer and stopped, thinking the question over. There had been remarks he had made that had annoyed her and made her wonder about his true nature. And she shared her revelation with Torr. “Now that I think about it, I would say no, I did not trust him. I suppose I failed to pay attention to my own instincts.”
“Most of us do from time to time, though we either learn or continue to remain ignorant to our own trust. And then, of course, there are times we allow passion to overrule all else.”
Wintra could not help but think of the poor woman who had died in childbirth at the abbey. She had trusted a man or had it been love she trusted and believed in and in the end it had failed her. She had died along with her baby, unloved.
She was quick to ask, “What of love? Does it not require trust?”
“Above all else love requires trust.”
“But what if love fails you? Is it truly trust that fails or your instinct gone wrong or misplaced passion?” She shook her head. “None of it makes sense.”
“I think most would agree with you when it comes to love.”
“Then how does anyone know when they are truly in love?”
“It would be a good question to ask your brother. You can see the love in his eyes that he has for Dawn and the same goes for her. And Cree is not an easy man to love and—”