“Aye, but we’ll see to your ride first, then we’ll ride to Clan Macara.”
“Nonsense,” Oria said. “A visit to Clan Macara is more important.”
Royden shook his head and with a firm hold on her hand eased her arm behind her back while he drew her close against him. “Nothing is more important than making sure you get a good ride.”
Why did his words have to ignite her passion that seemed to always stir just beneath the surface?
As much as she didn’t want to, she said, “Later.”
“No. Now,” Royden insisted.
“I need to prove my da’s—”
“His innocence will still be there for you to prove,” Royden said.
She didn’t want to refuse her husband, especially since the thought of him nestled between her legs was far too enticing to put off. But it was important she put a stop to the wagging tongues before they ruined her da’s good name.
Royden watched the play of passion versus duty to her da’s memory spar in her eyes. It disturbed him to see her struggle like that when she shouldn’t have to.
He brought his lips near her ear to whisper, “I’ll make it quick now and we’ll linger later.”
Oria smiled and threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “You are a good husband.”
“Keep grinning like that and everyone is going to know what we were up to in the barn,” Royden warned as he rode alongside his wife. “Not that they probably don’t already know since it was difficult keeping you quiet.”
Oria’s grin vanished. “You think I was heard?”
Royden laughed. “When are you not heard, wife?”
Oria’s cheeks stained red. “I tried to keep quiet. What must they think of me?”
“They think you love your husband and you’re keeping him very happy.” He reached out and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Worry not, I caught your loud moans with a kiss.”
Oria grinned again. “You’re my champion.”
“And you’re mine.”
They continued on, the day pleasant, and it wasn’t long before they reached the Macara keep.
Oria looked around as they entered the small village and the sour faces on the people reminded her of how sad Purity always appeared. From what Oria had gathered, Chieftain Galvin had been a commanding parent rather than a loving father. And from the looks of the people here it appeared it was Galvin’s way with everyone.
The village was well kept and Oria wondered if it was more from fear than pride that kept it that way. She didn’t see a smile or hear a bit of laughter, though people did bend their heads in whispers. A good place for wagging tongues to flourish.
Royden took his wife’s hand as they entered the keep and were shown to the Great Hall by an elderly man. It was a room of good size and kept well, a pleasant scent wafted in the air. The keep wasn’t as large as MacKinnon keep, though not as small as Learmonth keep.
“Do you have news. Tell me,” Galvin demanded, rushed steps bringing him into the room.
“That’s not much of a hospitable greeting,” Royden said.
“What do you expect when I’ve heard nothing from you regarding my request?” Galvin argued. We’re the only two clans to keep our holdings. We should be defending each other and Arran should not even have to think about my offer. He should accept marriage to my daughter without question.”
“That will be up to Arran,” Royden said, annoyed that he once again had to remind the man.
“Ridiculous,” Galvin said with a sharp dismissive wave of his hand. “Your father should make him wed my daughter.”
Royden’s brow narrowed. “You know my da has returned home?”
“Of course I do. That’s not news to stay quiet. And I heard he brought a witch with him,” Galvin said smugly.
“Yet you didn’t think it would be nice for a—supposedly—old friend to visit to see how he’s doing? Or to even be curious about the so-called witch? Or perhaps demand from him that his son wed your daughter?” Royden asked with a sudden anger.
“I don’t answer to you,” Galvin shouted at Royden. “And why should I visit with supposed friends when they do nothing to help me save my clan and land?”
Oria stepped forward, they all yet to have taken a seat. “Did you decline to come to our wedding, the one that was first to take place?”
“I certainly did,” Galvin said without shame. “And your father argued over it with me, though he never did make good on the promise he made me if I attended your wedding.”
“What promise and why didn’t you want to attend?” Royden demanded.
“Why should I attend when your father refused to see my daughter safely wed to his son?” Galvin argued, shaking a fist at Royden, then turned to Oria. “And your father was a liar.”
Royden’s hand clamped around Galvin’s wrist and wrenched his arm back when he went to shake his fist in Oria’s face. “You’ll respect my wife or I’ll beat you senseless.”