The Bewitching Twin Read online Donna Fletcher (Twin Series #2)

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Twin Series Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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The sea seemed impressed with their well-orchestrated maneuvers and the swells eased enough for the men to jump into the rough waters, ropes attached, and make preparations to get the ship on shore.

With time and effort, poles were made ready, the men took their places, and they heaved in unison to pull the ship onto the waiting poles and roll it onto shore away from the angry sea.

Rogan went directly to Aliss, who was sitting up, color still drained from her face. “Time to touch land.”

She reached out to him like a child who was being rescued and he grabbed her, scooping her up into his arms.

“You can rest on shore while everyone disembarks,” he said, walking to the side. With ease, he jumped off to land with a solid thud on the sand. That she had not flinched at his actions pleased him. Whether she believed it or not she trusted him, at least to a point.

He settled her on shore away from the frenzy of unloading a complete clan from two ships and warned her to stay put. Did he think she would?

He shook his head. She had not responded but once she began to feel better, he had no doubt she would pitch in and help. And damn if he did not admire her tenacity.

Rogan formed groups to see to the unloading. The women and children would rest while the men cut a path through the woods to the village, then the moving would begin, if they could beat the impending storm.

Rogan and his men were ready for the trek, while a few of the men had been designated to find game for tonight’s meal.

He was not surprised to see Aliss join his troop that would slash a path through the wilderness, a satchel slung over her shoulder and her healing basket on her arm.

“I suppose I cannot dissuade you from joining us,” he said, pride for his wife’s stamina beaming in his smile.

“Your observation is keen and allows us not to waste time,” Aliss said with a glance to the foreboding sky. “I would say we have little time before the storm hits.”

“Are you certain you do not wish to remain with the women and children and follow once the path is cleared? Our pace will be quick.”

“Then you will keep match with mine.”

The men around her laughed and Rogan signaled to begin the journey, with Aliss and he trailing behind several of the men whose swords swiftly saw to opening a pathway.

“You will tell me if you grow tired.”

“Is the village that far inland?”

“No, but your cheeks have yet to regain their color.”

“Do not worry,” she said. “I have land beneath me now.” With that, she picked up her pace and Rogan followed.

The village was not far, no more than a twenty-minute walk once they entered the woods. The woods had reclaimed remnants of a path over time. The men cut away brush and branches and any debris that would hamper the people, carts, and animals that would make their way to their new home.

Decay had claimed several of the cottages and part of the keep, but it was the lush meadow on the outskirts of the village and the fields that meandered around the cottages and the bright green hill the keep sat upon that stole the breath.

It looked as if the fairies had laid claim to it and blessed it with beauty and grace. Even on this cloudy day, the place looked as if it radiated welcome and Rogan knew, felt, that he had finally come home.

“Get the clansmen moving,” he ordered. “I want everyone sheltered and provided with food before the storm hits.” He looked to Aliss. “We need to see to the condition of the keep. Most will probably rest there tonight.”

To their surprise, the keep had decayed little. The massive wooden door needed its hinges repaired and the rooms required intense cleaning. The furniture needed repairs and the kitchen required at least several days’ worth of heavy work.

Aliss shivered. “I think we should get fires started.”

Rogan went to her and touched her blouse. “You need to shed these damp garments.” He took her hand. “Come let us find a suitable bedchamber. I will get a fire going in the hearth and you can change into dry clothes.”

They found an impressive one that connected with a smaller one. It held a large bed and four thick, tall posts anchored each corner. The headboard’s design had been scorched into the wood in an intricate pattern. The mattress needed stuffing and was devoid of bed linens, and a lone chair, its arm broken, sat next to the cold fireplace.

“Stand over by the bed,” Rogan ordered, and after Aliss moved away, he picked the chair up and smashed it to pieces against the floor. He then used the splintered wood to start a fire in the hearth.


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