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“Haven’t we all. He lost his son and he doesn’t know what happened to his daughter, Purity. What’s left for his clan if anything happens to him? There is no one to carry on his name. He’ll be lost, no one ever knowing he existed. It’s not a legacy a man wishes to leave.”

Their eyes met and held, each realizing the implications of his remark.

“I will have the Clan MacKinnon name carried on,” he said.

He was letting her know that there would come a time he would seek her bed.

“I will let you know when you are welcome in my bed,” Oria said.

Royden leaned forward in his chair. “You have a duty as my wife and we don’t need a bed to see the deed done.” His hand was quick to go up when she went to respond. “Tread wisely, wife, and remember a savage lives within me.”

Fear prickled her skin. How would she ever find the strength to tame the savage?

Chapter 7

Oria waited on the top of the keep steps for her husband. It had taken three days between the weather and things that needed immediate attention before Royden was free to ride to Learmonth with her. They had engaged sparingly in conversation since they had spoken in the solar. She had kept busy, seeing to her duties. She had men busy repairing the table and chairs that had sat on the dais. Repairs were also being made to the trestle tables and benches so once again the room would be filled with talk and laughter. And she was seeing what linens were available to once again have the MacKinnon family table well dressed.

The sun was full in the sky though who knew how long that would last and with a chill in the air, she made certain to wear her wool cloak. She scanned the distance for any sign of her husband. She was eager for this time alone with him. She couldn’t learn more about his time away if they kept their distance. Besides, after their talk in the solar, she realized how much she had missed talking with him.

One thing she had learned about her husband was that he didn’t allow having only one hand stop him from doing anything. He lifted, carried, managed to do what men with two hands did. He had learned well to compensate for his lost hand, not an easy task.

“Ready?”

Oria jumped startled that her husband was behind her.

His hand shot out to grab her arm. “Be careful, you’re too close to the stairs. You don’t want to take a tumble.”

She stared at him, for a moment, he sounded so much like the old Royden. The man who she never doubted, not for a minute, loved her with all his heart. And she ached for that man’s arms around her again.

Her attention turned to the sound of horses and was a bit surprised to see Angus, John, and Stuart approach. She was disappointed. She had hoped to be alone with her husband, giving them time to talk in private.

She looked from the men to her husband. “I’ve traveled alone back and forth between Learmonth and here many times without incident.”

“Burnell may have allowed you that, I don’t,” he said and, with his hand firmly at her arm, guided her down the stairs to the horses.

Oria had cherished the freedom Burnell had given her and Royden’s remark let her know how different it would be now that she was wed to him. He annoyed her even more when he kept hold of her and wouldn’t let her mount her mare on her own. His hand and his arm were at her waist before she could stop him and he swung her up onto her horse. She had always thought him a strong man, but there was a strength to him now that was much different than before.

When they were clear of the village, Royden nodded to the three men and they spread out, though kept a perimeter around her and Royden. A hasty pace was set and no words were exchanged between them as they rode.

When Oria spied the Learmonth keep in the distance, she and her mare did what they usually did, they raced toward home, leaving her husband in her wake. She loved the sensation of flying across the land, the chilled air stinging her cheeks, turning them red, and her hair blowing wildly around her head. It was exhilarating, though the feeling had been quick to die off once she arrived at the keep, her home that had never been a home to her. The ride—at least for a short time—had allowed her to feel completely free.

Oria slowed as she approached the village and her husband drew up beside her and stopped, bringing her to a halt.

“I’ve warned you about taking flight like that,” he ordered harshly.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Highland Promise Trilogy Romance