With her needs seen to, she was looking forward to returning to camp and getting her feet warm and her boots dry. She took a few steps in the direction she had come—at least she thought she did—but when she did not spot the two warriors, she wondered if she had reared off course. A few more steps and she nearly moaned with frustration.
How could she have gotten herself lost? She could have sworn she had turned back—she shook her head. She had not turned completely around when she had finished. Her only choice, though embarrassing, was to call out so they could hear her and hopefully they would have no difficulty finding her.
“Wintra! Wintra, where are you.”
She sighed with relief hearing Torr’s urgent shout. She took a few steps forward, following his voice and was about to call out to him, when her foot caught on something and she went tumbling down the hill that she had not realized she had been standing on.
Snow completely engulfed her as she continued to tumble until she finally slammed into something. She rolled onto her back, spitting snow from her mouth, wiping it from her eyes, and taking a breath to calm herself.
“Wintra, answer me!”
She heard the worry in Torr’s voice, and she turned with a wince to get to her feet and do as he demanded and found herself staring at the wide open eyes of another frozen dead man. She let out a scream that echoed off the trees like a tolling bell. And she continued screaming as she scrambled to get to her feet. She slipped several times as she did, anxious to get away from the cold, stiff body.
As she finally found firm footing, she was grabbed around the waist and slammed into a hard chest. She did not need to see who it was; she knew it was Torr.
He hugged her tight for a moment, then shoved her at arm’s length and, as he kept firm hold of her arms, he looked her up and down and asked, “Are you hurt?”
“No, but he is dead,” she informed Torr as she peered past his shoulder.
Torr turned, his hands slipping off her and quickly grabbing one of her hands to hold tightly.
Wintra figured he was not taking any chance of losing her and that was just fine with her, since his strong grip always made her feel safe. She also appreciated the presence of the many warriors who circled them, Sloan included.
“What have we here?” Sloan asked, dropping down on his haunches to take a closer look.
“Another dead man,” Torr said and drew Wintra close against his side.
“How did you come across him?” Sloan asked.
“I tumbled down the hill,” she admittedly reluctantly, feeling foolish for her misstep.
“You sustained no wounds?” Sloan asked anxiously.
“I’m fine,” she assured him even though she felt a bit lightheaded and looked to Torr. “He seems to have the same type wound as the other dead man, and yet he is far from where we found the other body. Do you think someone is tracking and killing these warriors?”
“There is no need for you to worry about this,” Sloan said standing straight. “Cree will see to it.”
She turned to Sloan, the lightheadedness growing. “It concerns me and, therefore, I will worry about it whether you tell me to or not and as far as my brother—” A wave of nausea hit her so hard that it stole her breath, and she barely called out Torr’s name before everything went dark.
Torr felt his heart slam into his chest when he heard his name spill with such urgency and fright from her lips. Then when her body went limp and she was about to collapse, he scooped her up in his arms.
“There will be holy hell to pay if anything happens to her,” Sloan said as he hurried with Torr back to camp.
Sloan was right about that, but it would not be only Cree who would be raising hell. Right now, however, it was Wintra that Torr was more concerned with. He had seen people take a tumble, get up, and think nothing of it only to slip into sleep and never wake.
He placed her gently on the blanket near the fire and saw then just how pale she was and fear tightened his gut. He hurried to scoop up a handful of snow and rub it over her face.
“Come on, Wintra, come back to me. You will not leave me now.”
Sloan watched surprised by the way Torr spoke to Wintra. It was as if— No, it could not be. God help him if— He shook his head. The Almighty himself could not help Torr if he had foolishly fallen in love with Wintra.
“Damn it, Princess, come back to me,” he shouted tapping her cheeks, trying to revive her.
Princess? Sloan shook his head again. Torr and Wintra? There definitely was going to be holy hell to pay when they got home. Sloan recalled how Cree would voice his thoughts after visiting with his sister. He had plans to arrange a good, solid marriage for her. Cree would not be happy about this.
Torr kept rubbing her face with snow and demanding she wake as all eyes turned on him.
Her eyes finally fluttered open and with some effort she raised her hand to press against his cheek. “You need not shout. I can hear you. I merely,” —she paused trying to clear her jumbled thoughts— “fainted?” She was surprised at her own conclusion. “I have never fainted.”
“You rolled down a hill and into a dead body,” Torr reminded, relieved to see color returning to her face. “You had a good reason to faint.”
Wintra dropped her hand to rest on his chest. “My face is chilled.”
“Torr covered it with snow to get you to wake,” Sloan said.
She turned her head to glance at him. “I forgot my brother’s warriors were here.”
Was that disappointment Sloan heard? And Wintra touched Torr with such ease and familiarity. Could she possibly feel as he did for her? How had this happened so fast? Sloan had to smile. The same had happened to Cree, so why not his sister?
“We will see you safely home,” Sloan assured her and stood.
“You will post more guards?” Torr asked, though it sounded more like a command.
“I intend to see to that now.” With a nod to Torr, he walked off.
Torr took hold of Wintra’s hand that rested against his chest. “Are you in any pain?”
“I am fine,” she said, having repeated it so often that it felt like a chant to her.
He leaned down closer, his face not far from hers. “If we were alone I would strip you bare and check every inch of you to make certain.”
Images of her naked, his hands roaming over her, exploring, igniting her sensitive flesh, filled her mind. It left her feeling deliciously wonderful, yet terribly vulnerable, especially since in her vision he was completely clothed.
Her remark slipped from her mouth as fast as images had filled her head. “I would permit that—only if you are naked as well.” Had she truly just said that? Did she truly mean it? Oh Lord, whatever was the matter with her letting him know that she wanted to see him naked again?
Torr grinned. “I am not asking your permission, Princess, and if you want me naked just ask. I will gladly oblige you.”
Her cheeks turned so hot that they probably blistered red, and she wished for more snow to cool them off.
“Tell me you will wed me, and then you will be able to see me naked whenever you want.”
She laughed softly and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. And she found herself about to agree to wed him, but she held her tongue. Too fast. Too fast. It was all going too fast since she had left the abbey. She had to take a breath and think. No not think, she thought too much. She needed to let things be—for now.
“You are mine and you know it. Soon you will admit it,” he said still grinning. “I would love to wrap myself around you tonight to sleep, but that won’t be possible, of course, if we were wed...”
“Go,” she said giving him a slight shove. “I need to think.”
He laughed. “You never stop thinking.”
“I am cursed with a curious mind or so say the nuns at the abbey who are probably at this very moment praying for me.”
Torr brushed a damp curl off her face. “I love your curious side. It makes you even more inte
resting than you already are.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I will be back soon. Do not think. Rest.”
Wintra watched him go. Each step he took left her a bit more upset. She sighed and burrowed further under the blanket. Her sole thought and objective for so long had been for her and her brother to be reunited. It had occupied her thoughts day and night. She had taken to devising plans, often nonsensical ones, to escape the abbey and find her brother. But the years had passed and the plans had remained mere thoughts—until Owen.
She wondered now what Owen had truly wanted from her. And try as she might she could not get the two dead warriors out of her mind. Their lifeless eyes haunted her. Were they begging for help or warning that she too could find herself like them—unexpected victims?
Too many possibilities rattled around in her head, and she reached the conclusion that there had to be more to Owen’s plan than to simply wed her. There had to be a reason that these two men who had helped him rescue her had been found murdered. She had to settle this matter for herself if she was to keep her sanity. She might not always find answers to her endless questions, but this was one time she intended to get answers, no matter what.
Her busily buzzing thoughts drifted off as sleep laid claim to her. The last thought she took with her, not of death and deceit, but of Torr and how much she wished for his arms around her.
Chapter Thirteen
“The closer we get to the village, the more restless you become,” Torr said looking down at her snug in his arms.
“I have not seen my brother in some time, through no fault of his,” Wintra was quick to add. “About three years ago, I refused to see him when he visited. The only way I would see him is if he was there to take me with him, foolish on my part since I missed him terribly. I thought in my naïve wisdom that he would give into my demands. I should have known better. And now I wonder how he will receive me.”
“Like the sister he has missed as much as you have missed him.”
“Or perhaps as the young, witless sister who made things more difficult for him.”
“You are far from witless, though closer to stubborn—” He laughed and she punched him, though it felt more like a tap.
“I am not stubborn; I am determined,” she insisted.
“Determined is good. Are you determined to love me no matter what? No matter anyone’s reaction? No matter what is said or done? Above all else, will you love me as much as I love you?”
His words sent a shiver racing through her. Would their love face that much opposition? But then how could it not? To fall in love in such a brief time was not quite believable. How then did it happen? How did she know with such certainty that she loved this man who held her so lovingly and protectively in his arms?
More questions, few answers, and yet she found herself believing in this unbelievable love. She could not explain it, though she felt it, and she could not explain that either. The thought of being separated from him overwhelmed her with such grief that it roiled her stomach and she grimaced.
“Such a pained face can only mean...” He left her to explain.
“The pain is from the thought of not having you near and as much as I fight the unbelievable that we could love so strongly when only meeting, I cannot ignore the certainty of my love for you.”
“Strong enough to wed me?”
“Aye, my love is strong enough to wed you, though I cannot wed you yet. Love may have rushed in to claim my heart, but my mind challenges my heart. I thought myself in love with one man only to realize that I had never loved him and now here I am claiming I am in love again. It troubles, yet excites me, which leaves me completely confused.”
“But is your love for me strong enough to stand the strongest scrutiny?”
“You make it sound like I will be facing an impossible task and that my love for you could fail?”
“Could it?”
“Why would it?” she asked, fear prickling her skin.
“We sometimes find ourselves tested by unexpected happenings, and it is the strength of what we know to be true, to be honorable in nature that can help us see the right or wrong of it. I believe love can uncover truths and survive the most difficult challenges. We face a challenge you and I, and I pray that the truth will help us survive.”
“Why wouldn’t it?” she said. “I may speak at times when it would be wiser for me to keep my thoughts to myself—” his laughter caused her to pause a moment and give him a playful jab—” but I always speak the truth to you as you do to me. No one can take that from us.”
“A good thing to know— and remember,” he emphasized.
Sloan rode up beside them, ending their conversation, though thoughts lingered in her head. She sensed there was more to what Torr was saying than he had voiced and her mind, as usual, went wild with possibilities.
“We will be entering the village soon,” Sloan said.
Torr felt Wintra tense against him and he gave her waist a reassuring squeeze.
“I sent a warrior on ahead to let them know we approach,” Sloan continued. “They will be waiting for our arrival.”
Wintra could not believe it. After all this time, she was finally going to be with her brother.
Not for long. My life is with Torr.
Her thought did not startle as much as she expected. Torr was right about one thing—unexpected things did happen. And she could not help but wonder how many unexpected things were about to happen.
~~~
The village was quiet when they entered, but then it was near to nightfall and most everyone were tucked safe and warm in their homes. Yet Wintra sensed an underlying unease. Was it her arrival that had caused it?
“Owen is here,” Torr said as they approached the keep.
Wintra’s stomach roiled as she spotted three of Owen’s warriors standing at the bottom of the steps of the keep, their eyes remaining steady on her and Torr.
“Owen must have come directly here after finding we led him on a false trail,” Torr said.
She feared what lies he may have already told Cree, and how they would affect her and Torr. The one thought that was stronger than all others was for her to get to her brother and tell him the truth about what had passed.
Torr dismounted, and then helped her off the horse. “Do not let this evil man rob you of the joy of being reunited with your brother. That above all else is what is important at this moment.”
“That is why I love you so much. You understand me and my maddening thoughts and love me anyway.”
“Just to remind you how much, Princess—”
He kissed her and not a gentle, friendly kiss, but a kiss that let all who saw it know that she belonged to him, and it tingled from head to toe and back again. When he ended it, he gave her a minute to clear her senses, then took her hand and led her up the keep steps.
She followed along, though at that moment she would have followed him anywhere.
Wintra stopped a few feet into the Great Hall, Torr halting alongside her and Sloan and some warriors coming to a stop behind them. A nervous quiver ran through her. Cree’s warriors milled about while a few of Owen’s warriors lingered near the dais, which meant he was close by.
When Owen’s warriors spotted her, their heads turned, and just after that Owen’s head appeared to the side of a wide set of shoulders.
She cried out as her brother turned around. “Cree!”
Tears stung her eyes and her heart filled with joy at the sight of him. While intimidating to all, he wasn’t to her. He was simply her loving brother. She didn’t stop her tears from falling, and when he spread his arms wide welcoming her into them as he had done so often when she was young, she did not stop herself from running to him.
Cree hugged his sister tight, happy to finally have her home and he let her shed her tears just as he had always done. Then she would raise her tear-stained face to him and tell him how much better she felt now that he had chased away her fear or sorrow or whatever had been bothering her at
that moment. If it was happy tears she cried, she would wiggle out of his arms and tell him that she had planted some happiness on him, and he was not allowed to wipe it away.
She eased herself from his arms, though her hands took hold of his, but before she could say a word Owen stepped from behind Cree.
“There is no need to worry, my dear. I have explained to your brother how much we love each other, and how we are practically wed since we already consummated our love for each other. I also explained how that brute,” — Owen pointed to Torr—“forced himself upon you and although you are disgraced I love you and will overlook it. We can wed immediately.”
Wintra was horrified by his lies and was about to tell Owen what she truly thought of him when Torr stepped forward.
“You are a liar. You never consummated anything with Wintra. And she does not love you.”
“We most certainly did. Wintra gave herself to me willingly the night we spent alone in the woods,” Owen said boldly. “She is rightfully mine. All we need is the ceremony to confirm it”
“You are a fool if you think anyone will believe your lies,” Torr said, his hands fisting at his sides. “I tracked you and I saw everything that went on that night. You left her sleeping alone while you joined a group of warriors a distance away.”
Cree turned his head slowly to glare at Owen. “You left my sister vulnerable to attacks by foe or animal?”
“He is lying,” Owen yelled.
“Is he?” Cree asked. “Then tell me how Torr got my sister away from you.”
“I offer your sister love and a good life with me,” Owen argued rather than answer Cree.
“I do not know your motive for wanting to wed Wintra, but it has nothing to do with love or you would have never hit her or—” Torr never got to finish.
Cree grabbed Owen by the throat and hoisted him up off the ground to dangle in front of him. “You dared lay a hand on my sister?” he demanded, his eyes full of fury.
Owen gasped for breath, his hands uselessly ripping at Cree’s to free himself. “L-l-let m-m-me—” He was suddenly dropped to his feet and through heaving breaths he said, “Wintra was hysterical from what Torr had done to her. Slapping her was the only way to calm her.”
Highlander's Captive (Highlander Trilogy) Page 12