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While the two continued to fling accusations, Torin quietly took his leave and made his way to the cottage. The snap and pop of the flickering hearth flames greeted him when he stepped inside. Kinnell knew him too well when he questioned him about avoiding his wife at night. He had thought to entice her and have her change her mind, but after giving it thought, he found it would not be fair to her. He had given his word and he would keep it. He wanted her to know that she could trust him since she appeared to have no problem trusting him. She shared her thoughts most willingly and discussed things endlessly with him. The strange part was that he was beginning to enjoy it.
He had tried to sleep in his shirt, but he was far too accustomed in sleeping naked to adapt to it. It was another reason he avoided his bed before his wife fell asleep. He was certain that her curiosity would lead to him breaking his word to her.
He gently untangled the covers from around her and slipped into bed and she did what she had done since he first got in bed with her, she turned and wrapped herself around him. This was when he thanked the heavens that she wore a nightdress.
With her head on his chest, her soft hair tickled at his nose and her fresh, sweet scent intoxicated. Bloody hell, he feared he would never be able to keep his hands off her. It was a pleasant surprise to realize how much he was attracted to his wife and a relief. It would make marriage much more pleasurable.
He forced himself to close his eyes and think on something else since his shaft would be at full attention soon if he didn’t. He thought on the scroll, but his wife entered that thought as well, the image of her backside up in the air as she hunted through the merchant’s cart flashing in his mind. His thoughts hopped from one thing to the next until finally exhausted, he fell asleep.
* * *
“Flora! Flora! Help us! Help us!”
“Where are you, Mum? I cannot see you,” Flora called out in panic hearing her mum begging desperately for help.
“Please, Flora! Please!”
“I cannot see through the fog, Mum,” Flora said, glancing around, not able to see past the thick fog that surrounded her.
“Listen for me and your da,” her mum called out. “You must help us to…”
Her mum’s voice faded off as she strained to hear her. “Mum. Da. I am here. I will help you.” Her eyes caught a shadow lurking amongst the fog. “Mum! Da! Is that you?” She got no response, so she tried again. “Mum! Da!” her shouts went unanswered.
The shadow appeared as if it was creeping closer. Flora scrunched her eyes to see if she could make out who it was, but she saw nothing more than a dark gray blob that continued to approach her. An unease washed over her, and she got the urge to flee, but for some reason her legs would not budge.
The shadow got closer and closer when suddenly it struck, a heavy warm wind or was it a huge breath? It knocked her over and she felt herself falling, down, down, down she fell. She did the only thing she could, she screamed.
“TORIN!”
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe, Flora,” Torin said, holding her tight in his arms, his heart beating madly. He had barely gotten his eyes open, her restlessness having woken him, when she screamed out his name, her arms flailing. His heart felt as if it had slammed against his chest, her screams were filled with such fear.
She burrowed against him as if she could somehow slip inside him.
“It was a nightmare, nothing more than a nightmare,mo ghràdh,” he soothed, stroking her back firmly. He would have her tell him about it, but he did not want to make her relive the fear. She would tell him in her own time. Right now, he only cared about soothing her and assuring her that she was safe. “It’s over. You have nothing to fear.”
“When I am with you I don’t,” she said softly.
He felt a tender catch to his heart as if somehow, she had reached inside him and touched him gently. If her words could do that, how would he feel when she touched him intimately?
He lay silent waiting to see what more she would say and after a few moments he could tell by the way she lay comfortably limp against him that she was asleep.
Sleep did not return immediately to him. He lay there, holding her close, shielding her as best he could from any further nightmares. Until he too, finally succumbed to sleep.
* * *
Flora stoodglancing around at the empty bedchamber which she would share for the rest of her days with her husband. His bed was being dismantled and the parts would be brought here to be put back together again. The new mattress was being finished and would be ready by the time the bed was in place. She had chosen various pieces of furnishings from around the keep to add here and some tapestries as well. It was all coming together nicely.
She noticed how Anwen had been staring at her as well as a few of the servants since they had begun work early this morning. She knew why, though none would make mention of it. She had not talked much except to issue orders and that was not like her. She was usually bombarding the servants with endless questions not only about the keep but about themselves. If this was to be her home until her dying day, then she wanted to know all she could about it and everyone here.
Last night, however, had kept her mind occupied since waking this morning. She relived the dream over and over again trying to make sense of it. Why would her parents need help? They had perished from an unknown illness, the physicians who treated them claiming they picked it up while in France. A reasonable explanation since two other scholars with her parents had died as well, while others were ill but survived. Why could her parents possibly need help and how could she help them when they were dead? The dream made her even more determined to discover what she could about the ghost. If she made sense of what was happening here in the keep, perhaps she could make sense of her dream.
She also had another conundrum that puzzled her. She thought she heard her husband call her my love but was not certain. After all, why would he refer to her that way? Or was it something he did often with women who he shared a bed with while she believed such a declaration was meant for someone special? Normally, when she was unsure, she would ask the person directly, yet she could not bring herself to do so in this situation. She had asked herself repeatedly why she was reluctant to do so until finally she admitted to herself that she was not sure if she would like his response. With her thoughts already troubled, she did not need to add more bothersome issues to it.
“Are you not feeling well, my lady?” Anwen asked, coming to stand beside her as the pieces of the bed were carried into the room.
“My thoughts are heavy today, Anwen,” she said and turning to look at the woman suddenly wondered if her husband had ever referred to her as my love. Her mum warned her to mind her questions that some were not proper for her to ask. She believed this was one of those not proper questions, so how did she find out?
“Anything I can help you with, my lady?” Anwen asked.
