Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Instead, the frigid air and the light falling snow had him saying, “You need your cloak.”
She acknowledged with a nod as if it was answer enough and went on talking. “If you and I take residence in the keep, I am sure it will encourage others to at least not fear working there. Do you think Verena would know of those willing to help me?” She spotted the woman and called out, “Verena, a moment please.”
The woman looked stunned as Flora released her husband’s arm and hurried toward her.
She moved so fast Torin hadn’t the chance to stop her. He caught up with her before she reached Verena and grabbed her arm halting her.
“You do not go to a servant, the servant comes to you,” he said and quickly added, “and do not ask me why.”
Flora let the word dissolve on her tongue and waited silently, seeing Verena hurrying toward them.
“How may I help, my lady?” Verena asked when she reached them.
“I need some people to help me get the windows open in the keep and see to the removal of the ashes in the fireplaces.”
Verena’s eyes turned wide, and she looked to Torin. “You permit this, my lord? You and Lady Flora will reside in the keep?”
It was his home, where he belonged, and it was time he returned to it. “Aye, Lady Flora and I will reside there as soon as the keep is made ready.”
“Does that mean the kitchen door will be unlocked?” Verena asked nervously.
“When the appropriate time comes,” Torin said. “Fetch the servants and let them know they are needed in the keep.”
“Gather them in the Great Hall. I will speak to them there,” Flora said and saw that Verena once again looked to Torin for approval. She supposed it would take time for them to get accustomed to the fact that she was in charge of the keep. But then her husband would always have the final say… not necessarily though.
“Finally, the keep will be open as it should be.”
Flora turned with her husband to see a tall woman with bold green eyes and a head full of fiery red, outrageous curls. Kinnell approached from behind her shaking his head, his face clearly revealing he disapproved of her remark.
“Flora, this is Iona, the clan healer,” Torin said.
“I am pleased to—”
“A healer!” Flora smiled with excitement. “A healer at Clan Strathearn helped me when I lost my voice.”
Torin briefly wondered if perhaps Iona could reverse the healer’s help and restore Flora to the quiet woman he had first met.
“There is so much I wish to ask you,” Flora said when Iona went to speak. “I am interested in the healing ways of the Highlands compared to the physicians in the populated cities and curious about the plants you use to help heal people that the physicians know nothing about.” She hurried to the woman and hooked her arm with hers and continued talking, stopping Iona from speaking again. “I have learned some Highland healers have other unique skills as well, though the one healer I had the pleasure to meet was deemed a witch. Of course, that was nonsense, she was simply a wise woman.” Her words drifted off as they walked a distance away from Torin and Kinnell toward the keep.
“Am I imagining things or did your wife just silence Iona and leave her no choice but to walk off with her?” Kinnell asked, staring after the pair.
“She did,” Torin said, surprised by it himself.
Kinnell broke out in a huge smile and slapped Torin on the back. “Anyone who can command Iona with their tongue alone is a prize. You picked the perfect wife.”
“Did I?” Torin questioned. “She chatters endlessly.”
“Then find a way to quiet her,” Kinnell advised.
A smile spread slowly over his handsome face thinking of their kiss. “I just might have.”
CHAPTER 5
“We must find time to talk about the Highland way of healing, but at the moment I would like to know your thoughts on the ghost in the keep,” Flora said as they entered the Great Hall, where servants were beginning to reluctantly gather.
“One thing I learned from listening to the many Highland myths from the time I was young is that somewhere within the myth is a grain of truth,” Iona said.
“That does make sense,” Flora said nodding. “Just as a grain grows and flourishes so does a tale after shared repeatedly until it becomes—”
“A myth,” Iona was quick to finish, “and one of many myths that formed the Highlands.”
Thinking that way, it was easy for Flora to understand how an extremely large man would be thought of as a giant to most people. He could have laid claim to this isle, thus the tale began, grew as it was shared, until it became a myth. However, even in her short time here in the Highlands, she understood that the people would not be receptive to such a reasonable suggestion. They preferred their myths and so she kept the thought to herself. Though, she might discuss it with her husband.