“Where are you going?”
“I need to check on a few things before I retire,” he said and hurried out before she could question him anymore.
He took a deep breath and let the night’s frigid air wash over him and cool him down. Her innocent inquiry had turned him hard, and he could not climb in bed with her and have her feel his hard shaft poking her, and she would with the bed so narrow. She would ask him endless questions and no doubt turn him even harder, then what would he do? Suffer a painful night.
Why in bloody hell had he agreed to a week?
But what if she was right? What if they weren’t suited for each other? She did talk far too much and was far too curious. Did he want to deal with that every day? He did find her appealing, but it had been weeks since he last coupled, having found a willing woman when he was at Lord Bhric’s clan.
He thought of what Anwen’s words to his wife about lust and once that was gone nothing was left. Anwen was right. Once lust was satisfied, what need did a man and woman have for each other?
He shook his head. What was he doing asking himself endless questions? He needed a wife and he got himself one. Lust, love, whatever, they were wed and would learn to live with each other just as endless couples did.
His wife could have her week, after that he would satisfy both their lust.
CHAPTER7
Snow scrunched beneath Torin’s boots as he walked through the village with Kinnell. A fair share had fallen last night, but not enough to keep people from their tasks.
“See that Philip is supplied with sufficient peat for his hearth when the men are done with repairing his roof, along with all the elderly folk,” Torin ordered, spotting two men working on the thatching.
“Already being seen to, my lord,” Kinnell said.
“Are the food sheds stocked? Winter will grow worse soon enough and I want no shortage of food for the clan.”
“One is low. I have sent a hunting party out early this morning,” Kinnell said. “The oat and barely harvest was exceptional this year and will provide well for the clan, and Verena assures me there is an abundance of dried and pickled vegetables. The clan will do well this winter.”
Torin stopped and cast a quick glance around, making certain no one was close enough to hear what he would say. “We need to find out if we were randomly attacked or marked for attack, though I fear it was not random. Yet, I see no reason for it. Clan Norham is in good favor with the nearby clans. We have helped many times defend them against enemies. Besides, there has been no unrest between the local clans lately.”
“That could be the problem. The clan leaders have no need of renegades, and they are desperate to take what they can,” Kinnell said.
“There is always a need for those who can carry out secret deeds whether small or large. One never knows what nobles are plotting whether to add to their wealth or rid themselves of an annoying or demanding relative or seek to overthrow a ruler. If the attack was not random, it would mean someone wants us harmed. The question is… why?”
“Smyth and Elden know well the renegades, having been part of them. I will send them to see what they can find out.”
“They are not young men anymore and with winter settling in even a brief journey would be harsh on them. I will not see them harmed. Choose two strong warriors and have them talk with the two men and learn what they can about the renegades, then send them.”
“Aye, my lord,” Kinnell said.
Heavy coughing caught both their attention and Kinnell smiled seeing two women, brooms in hand, beating tapestries that had been draped over low hanging tree branches of a tall pine growing close to the keep.
“It appears you will be returning to live in the keep soon, though tongues are predicting that it will not be for long,” Kinnell said with his usual teasing grin.
“My wife not only talks far too much, but she is also tenacious when she sets her mind to something.” Torin shook his head. “How I did not see her true nature troubles me.”
Kinnell was quick to give his opinion. “Her beauty robbed you of your senses.”
Torin went to argue and stopped, the memory of the first time he had seen Flora flashing in his mind. He had been struck by her beauty and the way her dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Her long dark eyelashes framed her dark eyes perfectly and her soft pink lips invited. It was only after the full scope of her beauty had hit him, did he notice the softness of her voice, a voice that had been healing and a fact that had never been revealed to him.
“Bloody hell, you’re right,” Torin admitted, annoyed at himself for not finding out more about his wife before he wed her.
“At least your eyes will have a feast to enjoy each day.”
“That is little compensation for my ears that will go numb with her endless chatter,” Torin complained.
“My lord,” someone called out and Torin turned. “A merchant with some news you should hear right away.”
Torin gave a glance to the keep intending to find out what his wife was up to as soon as he finished with the merchant.