Entrusted to a Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  “Maybe it is best I return home and see what awaits me,” she said. “If things don’t work out, I can always return here.”

  “You’ll not be returning here. You’ll be my wife and we will make a good life together.”

  They ate, talk sparse, since he wouldn’t discuss his years away and she certainly didn’t want to relive the time she was mostly invisible to people, even the ones she loved. Then there were those who had avoided her, believing her deformed hand set her in league with the devil.

  Arran watched Purity’s bottom lip plump from her gnawing at it with her teeth. He got the urge to run his own teeth across it, plumping it even more before kissing her. He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t need to think about that now.

  “Worries plague you. I don’t blame you. You don’t know what you will return home to. But you don’t return home alone. I will be there beside you and let nothing happen to you.”

  “You always did keep your word,” Purity said, standing to clear off the table so she could get busy chopping cabbage and onions to simmer and make a soup.

  Arran remained sitting at the table. “I asked you once if you’d ever been kissed. Do you remember that?”

  Her cheeks blotched red as they had done that day.

  “I see that you do remember.”

  Why did awkward moments forever sting? And why would he even remember that? She’d been unimportant to him.

  “Have you been kissed since then?” he asked, an ache to kiss her overwhelming him.

  She wouldn’t lie and what reason did she have not to answer him? She grabbed a cabbage from the basket near the door and placed it on the wood table. “I’ve never been kissed and I’ve never—” She stopped, grabbed the knife next to the cabbage and struggled to slice it in half.

  “It’s time you’ve been kissed,” he said.

  She flashed angry green eyes on him as she had done that day and her words were the same. “I don’t need your pity, Arran MacKinnon.”

  Arran stood and came around the table to take the knife from her hand. “Pity has nothing to do with it.” With one blow of the knife he severed the cabbage in two, then jabbed the tip of the knife into the wood table, leaving it to stand on end. “I want to kiss you.”

  Her breath caught. “You want to kiss me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  His arm went around her waist, not giving her a chance to escape him. “I want to taste your lips.”

  She went to speak and his finger faintly touched her lower lip, halting her words, and sending a shudder through her.

  “You should want to taste mine since we are to be husband and wife. Do you want to taste my lips, Purity?”

  Instinct, desire, curiosity, love. Whatever it was had her nodding in agreement without even thinking about it.

  He rested his hand at the back of her head as he brought his lips to hers. “I’m the first and only man your lips will ever know. Is that all right with you?”

  She didn’t think or alter her response. She spoke from her heart. “Your lips are the only ones I ever wanted on mine.”

  His brow scrunched, deepening the lines between his eyes, as if surprised or perhaps not quite understanding. Not able or wanting to wait any longer, he brought his lips down on hers faintly at first so she could grow familiar with his. When she responded, her lips searching for more, he playfully nipped along her lower lip plumped by her own teeth before enhancing the kiss.

  She tasted like no other, warm, welcoming, and dangerous. He could get lost in her forever. Her lips responded eagerly like someone who just learned the beauty of a kiss. Her whole body shivered against him and he wrapped her tighter against him. He let his tongue probe along her closed lips until she opened them and when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she didn’t startle—she responded eagerly.

  Never had he known such innocent and eager desire from a woman—a woman who would be his wife. The thought aroused him in so many ways and in ways he never expected. Their kiss had touched something deep inside him. He wasn’t sure what it was, since he’d never felt it before, but he was eager to find out.

  Arran had good control over his desires and had gained much more through the years, but at the moment he felt that steadfast control slip from his grasp and if he didn’t end their kiss now, he actually worried what might follow.

  Reluctantly, he ended it slowly to his disappointment and hers as well since her lips kept reaching out to his as he eased them away.

  Purity rested her brow to his chest, their kiss having left her breathless and her heart racing. “That was amazing,” she said when able to catch a breath.

  Something sparked in him, though it didn’t surface. Something foreign yet familiar.

  “I agree,” he said and her head shot up to stare wide-eyed at him.

  “You do?”

  “Aye, I do agree. The kiss was amazing. It is good to know we will enjoy sharing kisses,” he said, silently warning himself to keep the kisses few until they wed.

  “Maybe marriage to you won’t be so bad,” she said with a playful poke to his chest.

  “Then you agree to wed me and won’t continue to fight me on it?”

  Purity stepped away from him, a strange sense of loss falling over her as she did. She had felt a comfort in his arms that she had never felt in her life and leaving that comfort weighed heavily on her.

  “I’m not sure what to do, Arran,” she admitted. “I don’t know what awaits me at home with my da. Whether I like it or not, he is my family and he decides my fate.”

  “No, we are family, you and me, King, Princess, and Hope,” he said, surprising her and himself. “I will let nothing stop us from all being together.”

  He might not love her but what he did offer appealed to her. She never thought she would wed or have bairns. She could have that with Arran and she could have her animals, something her father had always denied her. She could have at least part of her dream—she’d have the man she loved. And maybe just maybe he might learn to love her along the way.

  She almost agreed when she recalled how the women had spoken about him. None believed he’d ever be faithful to a wife, but then none believed he’d ever wed. And he had said the same himself. She didn’t want an unfaithful husband. She didn’t want women talking and pitying her behind her back, or wagging tongues whispering that she wasn’t enough of a woman to keep her husband satisfied.

  She blurted out what troubled her. “Will you be a faithful husband?”

  “Aye, I will,” he said.

  That he said he would without hesitation surprised her. He’d always kept his word, so why hesitate to trust him?

  She couldn’t rush into this. There was more that she would share with this man than just intimacy. She might enjoy his kisses, but what of other things? He had said that all husbands expected obedience. At one time she was obedient to her father’s and brother’s every word. She would not be that obedient again, not after living and doing as she pleased. She didn’t want a marriage that would imprison her or her words and opinions. There was much she needed to consider.

  “I need to think on it,” she said.

  “It is good that you will think on it, since you will come to realize that what I propose is for the best and will be beneficial for you.”

  He spoke with that commanding tone of his and with such confidence that she almost believed that she would come to that realization. However, she couldn’t help but ask, “What if I don’t come to such a realization?”

  He stepped close to her, his hand cupping her chin and his thumb running faintly across her lips. “Nothing will change the fact that you will be my wife.”

  She stepped away from him again, turning to gulp down the knot that had risen in her throat and to calm the tantalizing tingles his touch had produced. She couldn’t deny that she loved this man, but was that love enough to leave freedom behind?

  “We can’t leave today,” Purity said the next morning and the
annoyed glare Arran sent her had her quickly explaining. “Princess got a stone suck in her paw, probably a day or so ago. I just removed it, but it’s left a bit of an open sore that needs at least a couple of days to heal with some help from a poultice.” He looked ready to argue and she spoke up again. “Would you force Hope to walk if she was in pain?”

  Hope had been in no condition to ride when he’d gotten her. He had walked alongside her for a week before he mounted her and rode her for only a couple of hours a day, until she was strong enough for him to ride her a bit longer. Still, he was careful of the distance he rode her.

  “Will two days be enough for her to recover?” he asked and he thought his heart would implode when a wide smile broke out across her face. She had the loveliest smile he had ever seen. Or maybe it was because it held no pretense or lies. It was genuine and there was no hiding that.

  “I don’t have enough comfrey for a poultice. I need to go into the woods and gather some,” Purity said and waited for what she knew his response would be.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She didn’t argue. She hadn’t gotten completely used to him being her shadow, but she found she did enjoy his company. Not that he said much. She talked more than he did.

  Purity shook a finger at Princess, stretched out on the ground near the cottage. “You stay here and rest.” She dropped her hand to her side as she turned to King, who sat on a bench not far from Princess cleaning his paw. “Princess isn’t well. Please make sure you stay with her and watch over her, and don’t let her follow us.”

  King gave a deep meow and looked to Princess.

  “So you command the dog but ask nicely of the cat,” Arran said and felt a chuckle rumble deep inside him. Not having felt the sensation in far too long, it felt strange.

  “It is good to know your animal. King doesn’t take well to commands where Princess thrives on them. King is also protective of Princess and having seen me remove the stone from between her paw pads, he knows she is in pain. He will keep her from staying on her feet.”

  “You are remarkable with animals.”

  “Anyone can be if they care enough to,” she said.

  “People don’t care that much for each other, they’d never care that much for animals,” he said. “I’ll get your cloak.”

  Purity wondered over his cynical remark. He hadn’t thought that way years ago. He’d always have a smile, a kind or teasing word for whoever crossed his path. It hadn’t been only women who had been drawn to him, but men as well, stopping to talk often with him. She wished he would talk to her about his time away, but he’d made it clear that would never happen.

  Arran slipped the new cloak over her shoulders and together they entered the woods.

  “Do you know where the comfrey grows?” he asked, taking her arm, to help her avoid some ruts in the ground.

  “I do. There is a large patch not far from here. The plant has a lovely violet-colored flower with dark green leaves and it thrives in the sun more than it does shade. Winter will claim whatever remains so I will take as much as I can get.”

  “I think I’ve seen a large bush of that near the MacKinnon keep.”

  Purity laughed lightly. “No doubt you did since Bethany probably had much need of it for all the wounds and bruises your sister Raven used to get.”

  “That she did. There wasn’t a day that went by that Bethany wasn’t chasing her down to tend a wound that she got from only God knows what.”

  “I envied her such delightful freedom to go exploring in the woods, climb trees, and spend time with the horses.”

  “Most of which she wasn’t supposed to do,” he said.

  “And what of you teaching her how to wield a sword?” Purity said, recalling how he had just begun, a day or two before the attack, to teach Raven.

  “I regret not teaching her sooner. If I had begun to teach her when she had asked, pestered me to, she would have been proficient with a sword by the time of the attack. She would have had a better chance of defending herself.”

  Arran never said it, fearing that upon hearing the words aloud would make it so, but he worried that his sister had been scooped up by a group of unscrupulous men and she suffered terribly at their hands. And even if she had managed to survive, he wondered what she’d be like now.

  He felt Purity’s hand on his arm and realized he had stopped.

  “Trust your sister. She is courageous and I believe you and your family will be reunited with her one day.”

  He wanted to believe that. He desperately wanted to believe that.

  They continued on, silently this time, and it didn’t take them long to collect the comfrey and head back to the cottage. Purity carried the comfrey in her tunic, having drawn the hem of it up to form a sack.

  They weren’t far from the cottage when suddenly Arran shoved her forcibly behind him and she stumbled and struggled to stay on her feet. When she righted herself, she froze. Two men were charging out of the woods, swords in hand, heading straight for them.

  Chapter 6

  “Stay back and do nothing,” Arran ordered and rushed at the two men with a vicious roar that sent Purity’s limbs trembling.

  She wasn’t surprised when the men halted in their tracks and their eyes appeared as if they would pop from their heads in fright.

  Their brief hesitation was their downfall. Arran reached them before they realized he was on top of them. With a powerful swing, he took one man down and turned with such speed that the second man had no time to react and fell from a single blow.

  King and Princess came charging through the bushes ready to defend her and stopped, glancing around. They both walked over to her. Princess sat beside her leg to lean against it while King paced protectively in front of her.

  All eyes were on Arran as he cleaned off his weapons on the dead men’s garments.

  He looked to the cat and dog as he approached Purity. “It’s good you come to her aid, but I took care of it this time.”

  King meowed, turned, and walked toward the bushes, stopped, looked back at Princess and sent her a strong meow. Princess got up and made her way slowly to the cat. When she reached his side, they walked off together.

  Arran kept his eyes on the two and asked, “King doesn’t ride on her back this time.”

  “King knows Princess is hurting. He won’t add to her discomfort.” She was quick to respond and quicker to ask, “Are you all right? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

  “I’m good. I was about to ask you the same. I didn’t hurt you when I pushed you, did I?” he asked, looking her over.

  “Not a scratch. I even managed to keep hold of the comfrey.” She glanced down at her bundle that quivered. Only then did she realize she trembled.

  Arran’s arms went around her, and she and the plants were crushed against him in a solid hug. She let her head fall against his chest and his chin came down to rest on the top of her head.

  “You’re safe, Purity. You’ll always be safe with me,” he assured her.

  Safe.

  How long had it been since she had truly felt safe? Had she ever? Tears threatened her eyes. She barely had a memory of her mother, a sweet scent, a gentle touch was all she could recall, and as for her father, he had paid her little heed. Her brother had been kind to her, though the older he got the less he paid her any mind. She had spent a good portion of her life feeling frightened. Here in Arran’s arms she felt safe. No harm would come to her here. He wouldn’t let it.

  When they eased apart a sense of loss struck her as it had done on other occasions when he had touched or held her. There was no denying she loved this man. She simply wished he loved her just as much.

  Arran gave a nod to the two dead men. “Have you seen either of these men before?”

  She walked over to have a look to make sure and Arran kept his hand to her back as she did.

  It was a quick glance with no need to linger. “I’ve never seen either man.”

  Arran looked down at them. �
��Two men today and three the other day. This can’t be a coincidence.”

  “What do you mean?” Purity asked.

  “There are no frequent travelers to this area. Why in the last almost four days do five men suddenly appear?”

  Did he mean what she thought he meant? She shook her head. “You can’t mean to think the men were here for me?”

  “I believe it’s a possibility we should consider.”

  She continued to shake her head. “But why? What would they want with me?”

  “That’s something we need to find out.”

  Purity looked to the dead men. “How?”

  “When the next ones arrive, I’ll make sure one remains alive until I get the information I want out of him.”

  Her head stilled. “You think more will come?”

  “I do and I’ll have my answer before we return home,” he said, declaring it so.

  “Does that mean we wait a few days before leaving here?” she asked, not eager to return home.

  “We already have to wait two days for Princess to heal. We’ll see what happens and decide then.” With a gentle nudge of his hand to her back, he turned her away from the dead men. “Go back to the cottage and see to Princess. I need to dispose of the bodies. They’re too close to the cottage for the animals to feast on or for anyone to discover.”

  She had never been frightened alone in the woods, but she was now and she hesitated to leave Arran.

  He cupped her chin and ran his thumb gently over her cheek, seeing that she was unwilling to leave him. “I won’t be long or be far. Call out if you need me.”

  She suddenly felt like a coward. She couldn’t let herself revert to the frightened lass she’d once been. She had to stay strong. “I’ll be fine. I have Princess and King.”

  “I never thought I would be grateful to a dog and cat,” he said.

  Purity smiled, even though there was no playfulness in his remark, it still sounded like a bit of the old Arran and it pleased her to hear it. She did something spontaneous, surprising herself. She kissed his lips lightly and realizing what she’d done, she hurried off.