Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Here you are,” Walcott said, stepping into the small cottage. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’ll keep you warm.”
Willow glanced around, but stopped when she heard the door shut behind her. She didn’t think Walcott liked her, or perhaps he was annoyed that circumstances had forced Slatter to wed her. Whatever the reason, it seemed the people here might agree with him. She continued to look around the room. A bed, the size two people would have to squeeze together to fit in, was pushed against one wall. A small table, with a jug and two tankards atop in the center and two chairs tucked beneath, sat close to the fireplace. A good-sized chest sat against the wall next to the door and higher up were a few pegs, though no garments hung from them.
She slipped off her cloak and hung it on one of the pegs, then went to the hearth to warm her hands. Now that she was here, her thoughts turned sensible. What did she hope to accomplish by staying with Slatter? She had seen him with another woman and all he had done was smile at her. And she had heard him called a whoremonger. Did that not warn her about what type of man he was? Had his fine features and charming tongue made her lose all rationale thought?
Yet he had sounded so sincere when he had told her that he had feared he’d lost her. Or was it a lie to benefit the situation? Did he have other plans for her, rather than helping her. Could he intend to benefit from her as Beck had planned to do?
The door opened without warning and Willow turned with a start.
A young woman entered and placed a bowl with half a loaf of bread and some cheese and a pitcher on the table. She blatantly glanced over Willow, shook her head, and walked out the door. Evidently, she was letting Willow know she didn’t approve of Slatter’s choice for a wife.
She pulled a chair out from the table and sat. The only thing she could do was talk with Slatter when he returned and see what he had to say, but would he speak the truth to her?
What if he had been caught by Tarass’s men? What then? Would he tell them where she had been taken? Or would he fear what might happen to the people here?
She let out a sigh and shook her head. This was what happened when sound reason was ignored and for what… caring about a man she barely knew?
Caring about what happened to the man, not caring for the man himself, she quickly corrected herself. Or did she care for Slatter? Had she been as foolish as all the other women he had sweet talked and surrendered to his charming tongue and good looks?
What a mess she had gotten herself into. Her two sisters, if informed that she had lied to Tarass’s men and had gone off with Slatter instead of returning home with them, would never believe it. She was far too practical of a woman to do something so foolish, and yet, she had.
She nibbled on the bread and cheese and after a few sips of cider drank no more, it being too sour for her taste. Several yawns and aching limbs reminded her how tired she was and she had always believed that a good night’s sleep would bring brighter perspectives on any problems one had.
She stood with a stretch, slipped her tunic off to drape over the back of the chair, and rested her boots by the hearth so they would be warm when she wore them next. She climbed into bed, the mattress lumpy, though it was far more comfortable than standing in a hole in the ground all night, and pulled the wool blanket up around her.
Whispered prayers fell from her lips as they did every night and before she finished, she was fast asleep.
Slatter stood over the bed, looking at his sleeping wife. It was late, only a few hours from morning. He had ridden all day and night to get home, to make sure his wife was safe. He had lost Tarass’s men easily, but he had wanted to make certain they couldn’t follow his tracks before he headed home.
His heart had slammed in his chest when he had seen his wife with Tarass’s warriors. Worse, he wasn’t sure what she would do. Would she go with them? Would she turn him over to them? Or would she foolishly think that they could return with the warriors and he would be safe because she was his wife?
He had just been about to close in on the man he was searching for when he spotted Willow with the warrior, Rhodes. He had been one of the warriors who had turned him over to the barbarians. Then the man called him a whoremonger and all hell had broken loose.