Entrusted to a Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  Arran hated to hear and see the hurt that the memories brought her. How she had managed to be such a loving person when she’d barely been loved herself was a mystery to him.

  Purity turned back around, her eyes filled with delight and unshed tears. “That doesn’t matter now. I have you.”

  A man incapable of loving her.

  The thought tore at him.

  “And I intend to keep you and love you way beyond my dying day,” she said with a broad smile. She shook a finger at him when he went to speak. “And do not bother to argue with me about it, for I will remind you again and again that I have enough love in me for the both of us.”

  “I’m glad,” he said without thinking.

  “Good, your common sense is finally returning.”

  “I had common sense?” he asked with a sparkle in his dark eyes.

  Purity’s mouth fell open. “Was that humor I heard?”

  Arran had no answer for her, having surprised himself silent.

  Purity’s smile was about to widen when it completely vanished.

  Arran turned to see what had stolen his wife’s smile. A large troop of warriors had set up camp on the outskirts of Clan Macara.

  “FREEN!” Arran bellowed, catching more than the man’s attention, several warriors in the distance heard and reached for weapons.

  Freen hurried to Arran, his horse keeping gait with Hope.

  “The troop arrived sooner than expected. I have been ordered to take charge of them. So worry not,” Freen said.

  “I’m not worried,” Arran said, his eyes intent on Freen. “You may have been ordered to take charge of the troop, but you answer to me in the chieftain’s absence and you will not give an order to that troop without my explicit consent.”

  “I understand,” Freen said, “but I must advise you that Wolf’s command comes before yours. So while I will seek your consent as you order, if it should disagree with Wolf’s, it is his order I must follow.”

  “Then tell Wolf I want a meeting with him,” Arran ordered.

  “I will send word,” Freen said.

  Arran turned a stark glare on him. “Make sure you do.”

  It was a bittersweet homecoming for Purity. Clan members barely acknowledged her while most everyone called out a greeting to Arran. After a short time, Arran instructed everyone to follow them to the keep. Letting them know, he had an announcement to make.

  The keep appeared as drab as ever to Purity and she wasn’t looking forward to entering it. Her heart ached for the cottage in the woods and if she wasn’t wed to Arran, she would rush back there now.

  Princess and King received several confused looks, but then how many times did a person see a cat perched on the back of a large dog. Never, which was why Purity had no doubt someone would think she had somehow worked some type of evil magic on the two animals. Her da had never bothered to stand up for her, to make it clear she wasn’t the spawn of the devil or a cohort of his, that her hand was… what was her deformed hand? Without an explanation or any sensible reason for it, people would think what they wanted to think.

  Arran helped his wife off Hope and made a point of taking hold of her deformed hand as he guided her up the few steps of the keep. He waited until a good crowd had gathered not wanting to repeat what he had to say.

  “Hear me well!” Arran called out. “I am Arran of the Clan MacKinnon and I have wed Purity of the Clan Macara.”

  Purity listened with pride as a tremendous cheer went up in the crowd as if his announcement brought great joy, though probably more so—great relief. Arran’s reputation of a skilled warrior was well known as well as the fact that he was an honorable man.

  “Know that I will not tolerate my wife being belittled by words or looks. Purity is a kind and generous soul and far more tolerant of foolish people and gossip than I am. I hear one bad word spoken or whispered about my wife and for every cowardly lie, bitter remark, vicious gossip spoken, the responsible one will spend two days in the stock.”

  A gasp circled the crowd.

  “As Purity’s husband, I am here to serve and protect you and you have my word I will see it done, but scorn or hurt my wife and you’ll beg the devil himself to save you from me.” He let his words sink in before continuing, “One last thing, the troop of warriors who camp on the outskirts of the clan mean the clan no harm. You are safe, worry not,” Arran called out and the crowd dispersed, smiles remaining on most faces as they called out blessings to Arran.

  Arran left Hope with a young lad who couldn’t keep his eyes off the horse, ordering him to wait there until he returned. He then entered the keep with his wife, letting her take the lead and slowing his steps when she did or stopping when something caught her eye.

  “Nothing has changed,” she said. “My father demanded the keep be kept exceptionally clean and I see that hasn’t changed. As a child, I often thought that with how clean the keep was kept that it should smile often, but alas the keep never smiled.”

  “We’ll make it smile,” Arran said.

  “A smile can’t be forced, it must be expressed freely or the smile means nothing,” Purity said, recalling when she was young how much she had wished for smiles from her father, from most anyone. She quickly took hold of his hand. “I have hope that with us here, smiles will come freely.”

  “Will your bedchamber suit us?” he asked, feeling a jab of guilt for being another person in her life who didn’t smile.

  “My bedchamber is small, the bed barely sufficient for one person.”

  “What of your brother’s bedchamber?” Arran asked, remembering Bayne as a sizeable man.

  Purity nodded. “His would suit us, but I don’t know how my father will feel about us residing there.”

  “Leave your father to me,” Arran ordered.

  Gladly almost slipped from her lips but she stopped it. There would come a time she would need to deal with her father and she wouldn’t have her husband doing it for her. She needed to do it herself.

  “After I see that Hope is settled well, Quiver and I will see what we can learn from the people about what goes on here and what they might know of your father’s absence.”

  “And I’ll see what I can learn from those in the keep,” Purity said, pleased she had something to keep her busy so she wouldn’t dwell on being home.

  Arran was happy for her to do so. It would keep her inside where he’d rather she remained, at least for today.

  “We can share what we’ve both learned when you return,” she said, already looking forward to that time with him.

  “Be careful,” he cautioned, “and if you need me—”

  “I will summons you posthaste,” she said and gave him a quick kiss and smiled when she saw King and Princess hurry outside with him.

  Purity turned her attention to the Great Hall, surveying the room where she had eaten endless meals yet had barely been noticed or acknowledged. She had learned that by being treated as if she wasn’t there, people spoke openly around her and that had allowed her to become skillful in the art of listening at a young age.

  She did that now as she made her way around the keep and though now grown, she was still treated the same… as if she wasn’t there at all. She listened to the whispers of gossiping tongues and some that didn’t even bother to whisper in her presence. Evidently, it had become a habit for people to ignore her.

  She went to her bedchamber that appeared not to have been touched since the last time she’d been there, the dust and dirt heavy even in the cold fireplace. The room seemed smaller to her than she remembered, more a cell, a prison of sorts, and having been so free these last few years, she realized how true that was.

  How often had she retreated here tearful from hurtful words and seeking solace? How blind had she been not to see it for the prison it was rather than a sanctuary? How often had she walked the keep like today with no one paying her heed and accepting it as her fate?

  Her chin shot up. She wasn’t that same frightened, young lass a
nymore. She was the mistress of the keep and it was time everyone knew it.

  Chapter 15

  “Tell me what you learned, Quiver,” Arran said as they walked toward the keep, Princess and King following along with them, though going off to explore now and again when a scent caught their attention.

  Quiver responded quickly. “Chief Galvin is ill and the people fear who might replace him. It was what worried the clan the most, until you arrived. They are beyond pleased and relieved that you will eventually be chieftain of the clan.”

  “I heard the same, but no one can tell me what took the chieftain away from his clan,” Arran said.

  “I have heard only speculation. Some believe he went to find a healer who could help him. Some thought he went to search for his daughter himself. Others feared he went to strike a bargain with the leader of the mercenaries.”

  “Wolf,” Arran said.

  Quiver nodded. “They thought that for sure when the troop arrived this morning and camped on the outskirts of the village. Your presence and words have calmed them.”

  “And what have they to say about my wife, since none would dare say a word about her to me?” Arran asked.

  “Mostly it was respect for her that she did her duty and wed a good man for the clan,” Quiver said.

  “That slight quiver in your voice tells me that you’re not telling me everything,” Arran said, watching King pounce on something only to come up empty handed and not looking at all pleased. He had a similar feeling. He had arrived here unexpectedly and pounced on these people, and he had failed to capture something, something important.

  “I don’t believe any such nonsense, mind you,” Quiver prefaced, “but many think you are an unselfish soul for marrying a woman touched by the devil.”

  “So you don’t believe me an unselfish soul?” Arran asked, a spark of teasing obvious in his voice and in his dark eyes.

  Quiver stopped abruptly and stared at him dumbfounded. “You jest with me?”

  Arran stopped as well, surprised with his response. “I do.”

  Quiver smiled. “I appreciate the jest, sir. More jests would produce more smiles which would do people good. As for Mistress Purity, everyone will soon learn it was no devil who touched her but an angel.”

  Arran entered the keep after making sure Quiver found a dwelling suitable for himself. The place was small but Quiver was more than pleased, never having had a place of his own. He was surprised to hear his wife’s voice raised with authority.

  “It is your father’s way.”

  “My father isn’t here and if you’ve failed to realize, let me make it clear—I am mistress of the keep now and you will follow my orders without question, Orvin,” Purity said with confident firmness.

  Purity didn’t have to see who Orvin focused on behind her. From the smug look on his full face, it had to be her husband who Orvin felt had authority over her.

  “Sir,” Orvin said with a respectful bow of his head to Arran. “Your wife thinks to tell me what I must do in my kitchen. I follow the chieftain’s rule and with him absent, you are in charge. I ask that you order Mistress Purity to leave me be.”

  Arran stepped next to his wife, a scowl settling over his handsome face. “My wife is mistress of this keep, Orvin, and whatever she orders you to do, you will obey her without question.”

  The man’s thick cheeks glowed red and spread to stain his face and head that had few hairs left on it. Orvin unwisely raised his voice and waved a dismissive hand at Purity. “I will not take orders from the likes of her.”

  Purity took a quick step forward, moving in front of her husband to prevent him from doing more than taking a step toward the man. “Then you no longer work in the kitchen. You may take your leave and you will send Iona to me before you leave the keep.”

  “You can’t mean to replace me with Iona. Your father will never permit it, just like he won’t permit those dirty animals from being in the keep,” Orvin said, pointing to King and Princess settled by the fireplace and scrunching his nose as if being struck by an offensive odor.

  “Fetch me, Iona, then leave the keep, Orvin, NOW!” Purity ordered with a force that had Orvin moving quickly.

  Arran stepped around Purity to stand in front of her. “That was impressive, wife.”

  She looked away a moment and when she turned back to him, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m not who I once was and it took returning home to realize just how much I’ve changed.”

  His arm went around her waist, something that had become a habit when he was close to her, something that felt natural, comfortable, right. “I like who you’ve become.”

  She smiled. “I do too.”

  Her lips were on his before he could capture hers in a kiss. He was glad she kissed him whenever it pleased her and he was more than glad it pleased her to do so more often than not. This kiss was one that let him know she missed him and he realized he felt the same. They had only been parted for a couple of hours and yet it seemed so much longer. He had grown so used to being with her that it seemed strange not to have her by his side.

  He heard someone enter the room and ended the kiss to turn and see a slim woman, her bright red hair piled in a mass of curls on the top of her head, with several falling free, standing there staring at them with wide eyes. It took him a moment to see that her expression wasn’t one of surprise at seeing them kiss, but that her eyes were naturally wide.

  Purity turned when she saw her husband’s eyes focus elsewhere and smiled. “Iona, Orvin is no longer the keep’s cook. I would like you to take over the position.”

  A smile brightened Iona’s pretty face. “I would gladly do it, mistress, but your father would forbid it.”

  “I’ll see to that,” Purity said. “As of this moment, you are the new cook and all in the kitchen answer to you. I will make it clear to those in the kitchen that you are in charge now and they are to obey your orders.”

  “Some may refuse, mistress,” she said almost apologetically.

  “Then I will see them removed and you may choose who you like to replace them,” Purity said and with a smile encouraged the young woman as she wished she had been encouraged. “Do not be afraid of speaking your piece, Iona. I encourage you to do so and expect you to do so. Besides, I believe many in the kitchen will be pleased with the change and grateful they no longer have to contend with Orvin’s belligerent nature.”

  Her heartening words brought a smile to Iona. “I believe you are right, mistress. I will see to my new duties right away. And I will have food and drink brought to you and your husband. something Orvin failed to provide on your arrival.”

  “Thank you, Iona,” Purity said and turned with a smile to her husband who quickly took her in his arms.

  “You’ve grown into a beautiful, confident, wise woman and I’m proud to have you as my wife,” Arran said.

  Purity felt her heart swell along with her smile. “It pleases me to hear that, husband.”

  Arran leaned down to nibble along her neck after saying, “I do so wish to please you, wife.”

  She chuckled and drew up her shoulders, his playful kisses tickling her. “I will hold you to that.”

  He raised his head and she almost gasped—he wore a slight smile. One that would normally not be noticed, the corners of his mouth barely curved up, but it was the sparkle of delight in his eyes that gave it more credence.

  “No need, I will see it so.”

  The delight in his eyes turned to a flare of passion and Purity had all she could do to stop herself from grabbing his hand and rushing him off to bed. She was glad the servants entered distracting her wicked thoughts. There would be time for them later.

  “I see the disappointment in your lovely eyes, wife,” Arran whispered close to her ear as he guided her to the table where the servants were busy placing food and drink. “Nothing will stop me from slipping inside you tonight.”

  She made it appear that she casually drew her elbow back when it was with e
nough force to jab her husband in his ribs. She thought she heard a brief chuckle, but she couldn’t glance back since he kept propelling her forward.

  “Not fair,” she whispered when they were finally seated at the table beside each other.

  “I don’t always play fair,” he said with a wink and kissed her cheek.

  She wondered if he realized that he teased her, that the old, playful Arran was escaping, freeing himself from wherever restraints had been forced on him. She didn’t intend to point to it or make mention of it to him, for fear he’d retreat. She’d let him rediscover himself in his own time, welcoming every peek he revealed.

  “Tell me what you’ve learned,” she said, changing the conversation for her own sanity.

  The sparkle faded from his eyes and she was sorry to see it go, though grew a bit worried when he took her hand.

  “Your father is ill,” he said.

  “How ill can he be if he rides off for a week?” she asked, the news not that upsetting to her.

  “Some say he goes to find a healer and others wonder if he went to make a deal with Wolf while some speculate that he went in search of you.”

  “If he searched for me it would be to make sure I wed,” Purity said and gave a sad shake of her head. “When I first took refuge in the woods with the others, I had this recurring thought that my father would be worried about me and search for me. He didn’t.”

  “Perhaps he thought you safer if you stayed hidden away,” Arran offered. “If you had returned, surely you would have been forced to wed one of Wolf’s warriors and your father feared that.”

  “My father feared the loss of his land and power. He wasn’t worried about me, only what I as his daughter could do for him. I shiver to think of who he might have married me to,” she said and actually shuddered at the frightening thought. She paled suddenly and gripped her husband’s hand. “What if that’s what he has done? What if he’s struck a bargain with another clan? What if he went off and wed me by proxy to someone?”

  A sense of dread gripped Arran, but he remained calm outwardly. “We’re wed. There’s nothing he can do.”