Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Cree will provide proof.”
“It doesn’t matter. I intend to wed Owen.”
“That decision isn’t yours to make.”
Wintra was furious. Having spent time at the abbey and being dictated to, she yearned to make her own choices, to taste freedom, to live her life as she pleased after so many years of restrictions. She had discussed the matter with Owen and he had assured her that once she was his wife, she could retain the freedom she enjoyed. He would not dictate to her like most husbands. She had been overjoyed with the prospect, and if she was truthful with herself it had been what made her decide to wed him. She was all too aware that it was Cree’s responsibility to arrange a marriage for her, and she feared being stuck with a husband who would dictate as badly as her brother and the nuns had.
“Cree will have no choice but to agree to a union between Owen and me. After all, we did spend a night alone together.”
“You claim to love Owen, yet you would place him in such danger?”
“What do you mean?
“Once Cree hears that, he will assume Owen took advantage of you and quickly kill him.”
Wintra clamped her lips shut tightly. She knew that Torr spoke the truth. Her brother would kill Owen if she led him to believe that they had been intimate. It would be up to Owen to convince her brother how much he loved her and that he would be a good husband and treat her fairly. Surely, Cree would listen and give his consent.
“What is meant to be will be,” Torr said, as if ending the conversation.
His words tolled in her head. Her mother had said those very words to her once. What is meant to be will be. But she felt that that was resigning one’s self to fate, and so far fate had not been kind to her. She would much prefer to make her own choices, live her life her way.
She hadn’t realized it was snowing until she noticed her cloak was dusted with white flakes. She looked up at the sky consumed with snow and shivered.
“We need to find shelter,” Torr said. “I recall there being a croft not far from here. The sooner we reach it the better, since the snow is falling heavier by the minute.”
He was right. Even with pine branches beneath her blanket, the cold from the snow-packed ground had crept up to sting her last night and still lingered in her bones. But the further they traveled in the falling snow, the more difficult it would be for Owen to find her. And she was certain that by now he was frantically searching for her, fearing the worse, and blaming himself for not being there to protect her.
If she could escape and retrace her steps before the snow got bad, she was certain she would meet up with Owen along the way. And even if Torr found them, it would be better for Owen and her to face Cree together.
But how to get away from Torr?
Torr remembered the cottage being near a stream and so he kept his eyes focused on their surroundings. When he finally spotted the water, he guided his horse passed the trees to follow alongside the edge of an embankment.
“I need to stop,” she said, assuming he would give her privacy to see to her needs.
“Can it not wait?”
“No, you rushed me off this morning before I had a chance to see to my needs. I cannot wait any longer.”
Torr grumbled beneath his breath as he brought his horse to a halt, slid off, and reached up to help her down.
Wintra turned to hurry off when he grabbed her arm.
“I will be going with you.”
Her eyes turned wide. “You cannot mean that. I need privacy.”
“I will turn my back.”
That would not do. He would hear her hurry off and be on her in no time.
“Hurry, the snow worsens by the minute.”
He was right. It was now or not at all. If she gave him a good shove, there was a chance he’d lose his footing and fall and tumble down the embankment. And if she was lucky, he would roll into the stream. Then he would have to seek shelter immediately and get dry before he could do anything, giving her time to make her escape.
Feeling her plan would work perfectly, she pretended to turn, though dug her boots into the snow as she whipped around and gave him a hard shove.
He stumbled, his arms flailing in the air as he fought to regain his balance, and she turned to take off. Suddenly his hand latched onto her shoulder and the movement must have caused him to lose his balance completely, since he went tumbling back, and she was propelled right along with him.