CHAPTER1
Flora felt the gloom of the cloudy day. It lay as heavily on her as the snow on the towering pine trees. Her glance went to the line of warriors plodding along in front of her atop their horses. They weaved a path through the heavily forested area, their heads up, their eyes watchful, and their weapons close at hand.
She tucked her cloak tighter against the cold and the pervasive gloom and stretched her body up on the saddle to see if she could spot her husband.
Husband.
Not seeing him, she relaxed back down on the horse. How was it she had a husband? She shook her head. It had all happened so quickly that she was still trying to comprehend it. She had not been long at her uncle’s home, Chieftain Newlin of Clan Strathearn, when she found herself forced into a marriage. Their departure had been rushed after her husband received a message, the contents which he had not shared, that had them departing immediately.
Another look and she spotted her husband riding toward her… Lord Torin of Clan Norham. He was far from difficult to glance upon, his features quite appealing and it seemed most women thought that way since when they came upon women at crofts they stopped at or travelers they came upon, there was not a woman who could take her eyes off him. Of course, his smile that seemed to tempt and tease in one look helped it along. He was also lean and muscled and had the most intense dark eyes she had ever seen. They teased and tempted just as much as his smile, and his dark hair that fell carelessly to his shoulders only added to his undeniable appeal.
Fine featured or not, Flora had had no intentions of getting married and being dictated to for the rest of her life, and yet here she was wed, and still trying to comprehend how she got here. Her mum had warned her not to be so quick in rejecting Henry’s offer of marriage, pointing out that he was a malleable man who would make no unreasonable demands on her. Flora had argued she looked upon Henry as nothing more than a friend. Her mum had advised that marrying a friend could be the start for a good marriage. Flora disagreed, mostly because she had had no plans to wed. Her mum reminded her that she and Da would not be around forever and that life was not easy for an unwed woman. Her mum had been right about both.
Her husband turned a smile on her when he caught her eye and she found herself returning it. The man’s smile had to be contagious since she had found it irresistible to ignore, her smile responding to his in kind every time. Not that she minded smiling. A smile did the soul good, like now, lifting the gloom that had weighed on her.
Still, though, she had not wanted a husband, and yet she had one.
“Doing well, wife?” he asked as he turned his horse to ride alongside her.
“Well enough, husband.”
“No complaints, a good sign in a wife,” he said quite pleased.
She nodded and smiled like a dutiful wife wishing she did not have to stay in the marriage yet thinking there was nothing else left for her. Marriage to Torin had been her only recourse.
“You also mind your tongue more than not, which is something I appreciate since I am not partial to chatty women.”
If only he knew, but then it would not be long before he found out that she rarely held her tongue. She had been taught to express her thoughts and opinions, and it was only due to a recent illness that had troubled her throat that she had had to limit her talk.
She thought it only fair to give him some warning. “I do speak my piece, my lord.”
His smile teased, but his dark eyes warned. “Not too often, though.”
Words could produce a battle if one let them, and some battles simply were not worth fighting. She kept a pleasant smile herself when she asked, “Will the cleric who travels with us leave us soon? I believe I recall you saying he traveled with us for safety concerns.”
“You are observant,” Torin said, eyeing his wife with a questionable tilt of his head.
“Curious, my lord,” she corrected softly.
“Curiosity can bring on endless questions, another thing I will not abide from my wife,” he cautioned.
“I will do my best,” she offered. “And the cleric?”
“Not your concern,” he said, his smile having faded some. “Tell me, wife, does your curiosity extend to the marriage bed?”
If he thought to have her shy away in embarrassment, he was mistaken. She was eager to respond, but a fierce scream tore through the woods and the next thing she knew her husband flung himself at her, his arms locking around her tight as he took them both to the ground.
“Stay down,” he ordered and got to his feet in a flash, yanked his sword from the sheath on his back, and swung at the man descending on him with a vicious scream and raised sword.
Fear froze Flora. She had listened to her da and his friends when battles had been discussed but they paled in comparison when amid a live battle. The fierce roars that pierced the air were worse than mighty thunder. The continuous clank of metal as swords clashed deafening, the anguished cries of pain from the wounded and dying terrifying, the sight of bodies falling one after the other a nightmare, the spray of blood staining the pure white snow horrifying, and the dreadful odor that wretched her stomach that she prayed she would never smell again, kept her too fearful to move.
She remained huddled on the ground as her husband fought in front of her taking down anyone who dared to challenge him.
The Highlands hold great beauty and great danger.
She had been told that by her uncle and reminded again by Lord Cree. He had advised her to learn how to survive the Highlands. How did one learn to survive such savagery?
To her, the battle seemed to go on forever as she watched warrior after warrior fall while she prayed and prayed for it to end.