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She was not ready to bear him bairns. She barely knew him and though his smile appealed, it also masked secrets. She would not get with child until she spent time with him and learned more about him. She wisely had gotten a mixture from Hertha, the young healer at Clan Strathearn, before departing that would prevent her husband’s seed from taking root. She had started taking it and would continue to do so until she thought it safe to do otherwise.

An hour later a warrior directed her to the front of the line to ride alongside her husband.

“All is well, husband?” she asked.

“It is and we are not far from home,” he said, and as they made a turn in the bend, the forest disappeared and a loch sat before them, the Isle of Outerson right in the middle.

The loch appeared smaller than Flora imagined it would be but then she realized it was the sizeable isle that made the loch appear small. She was surprised, though relieved, to see a stone bridge, wide enough for two riders to ride side by side and low to the water, connecting the isle to the mainland. She had not liked the thought that she would be stuck on an isle with no way off except by boat. Escape had been on her mind at that time and procuring a boat had been a worry to her, as was a husband who might prove intolerable or the marriage itself. She had to have a plan of some kind, but none had surfaced, and she had continued to caution herself to accept her fate and make the most of it.

Torin could tell by the way his wife’s eyes brightened as they settled on the bridge that it surprised her. “My grandfather started the bridge, and it was finished in my da’s time. It made it easier to transport things to the isle, and with only one road leading in, it makes it easier to defend.”

“It is low to the water. Does it ever flood?” she asked, something she felt would be good for her to know.

“On occasion,” Torin said, though did not elaborate.

Flora felt the excitement of the troop as they crossed the bridge. The top of a watch tower could be seen above the treetops and that is what they reached first on arrival on the isle. Warriors greeted Lord Torin and the troop with shouts of cheers as they passed by them. Crofts soon began to appear, and the occupants called out cheers of welcome home. The village followed next, and all were equally enthusiastic in their welcome. The warriors began to disperse along the way and only Flora, her husband, Kinnell, and the cleric arrived in front of the keep.

“It has been a tiring journey, my lord,” the cleric said. “It is best I see to the keep tomorrow.”

“Kinnell will take you to a cottage, yours while you are here and see that you wash yourself and your garments. I cannot abide filth,” Torin commanded.

The powerful command in his voice had Flora thinking that he had not sounded that authoritative at Clan Strathearn. However, he was home, and he ruled here.

She did not want him to know she knew about the ghost in the keep but she was eager to have him tell her about it, which had her asking, “Why must the cleric see to the keep?”

“Another question, wife?” he asked his smile teasing but his eyes warning.

“I recall you mentioning his intention was not to journey all the way with us and yet here he is. I but wonder why.”

“Let’s get settled first,” he said.

“Aye, I could do with the heat of a hearth and a hot brew,” she said and turned away from him to make her way up the stairs to the keep.

His hand grabbed her arm, stopping her. “There is work being done in the keep. We will be staying in a cottage for now.”

“What kind of work?” she asked as his firm grip forced her away from the keep.

“Repair work,” he said and headed to a cottage close to the keep.

She continued with her questions. “What kind of repairs and how long will it take?”

“Do not concern yourself with it.”

“But isn’t the running of the keep a wife’s duty?” she asked, her cousin Tavia trying to explain in what little time they had together what was expected of her as wife of a clan lord.

“I will let you know your duties,” Torin said, attempting to temper his annoyance.

“The sooner I am aware of them, the sooner I can see to them,” she said.

He wondered where the quiet woman he had met at Clan Strathearn had disappeared to. She had barely uttered a word and asked little to no questions. Had he been duped into thinking his wife was something she was not?

“Enough!” he snapped. “I will tell you when I am ready to tell you.”

He pushed the door open to the cottage and let her precede him in. It was a good-sized place, though the fireplace was small, and she feared it might not heat the room sufficiently. A table and benches enough for two sat in the middle of the room while a bed that would fit two people snugly was tucked in a corner. There were pegs in the wall to hang garments and a chest hugged the side of the bed that was not pushed up against the wall.

“Your things will be brought here for now,” he said.

“You have no idea when the work in the keep will be completed?” She waited, seeing if he would finally confess about the giant and the keep.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Historical