Arran shook his head, not wanting the memory to surface.
A sudden bark from the large dog had Arran reaching for his sword he had rested against one of the posts. He quickly searched the area for Purity and saw her look to where Princess was headed, no longer barking, her tail wagging. He left his sword where it was along with his axe, confident that the concealed weapons he carried on him would suffice if necessary. Then there were always his hands. He had learned how lethal hands could actually be.
He watched Purity’s face break into a wide smile and she rushed to greet the man who stepped past the bushes, a horse following behind him. He was tall and thin with sharp angles to his face, and eyes that brightened when they caught on Purity. His brown hair reached his shoulders and there wasn’t a trace of gray to it. He was young, Purity’s age or a few years older.
Arran’s hand went instinctively to his waist where a dagger lay in its sheath and a rumble of annoyance issued in his chest. Purity had told him there was no man she relied on, but the way they smiled at each other made Arran wonder. And Princess seemed to regard him as a friend, wagging her tail as she danced around him. Even the cat had come out to greet him, meaning the animals knew him well and liked him. That would also mean he’d been here often.
He walked toward them, eager to find out who he was and what he was doing here.
The man’s smile vanished when Arran drew near.
Purity turned knowing full well what robbed George of his smile. “Arran, come meet George. He is the merchant who brings me the fine wine.” She turned to George again. “George, this is Arran of the Clan MacKinnon.”
George’s smile returned though it wasn’t the brilliant smile he had turned on Purity.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” George said with a nod.
“That is fine wine you bring Purity. How did you come by it?” Arran asked, stopping so close to her that their arms touched.
“I bartered with another merchant for it. I don’t know how he came by it,” George said, his light brown eyes darting nervously about.
The man obviously lied and he wondered why.
“You will stay the night?” Purity asked, stepping closer to George.
What was the matter with her? Hadn’t he warned her about inviting men to rest here? Or had she become like the willing women he had known, enjoying a good poke now and again with a man of her choice? Somehow he couldn’t rationalize that with the shy, quiet Purity he had once known.
“That is generous of you, Purity, but I must be on my way today. I must make it to Stitchill Monastery before day’s end. I have items that are much needed.”
“Then don’t let us keep you,” Arran said.
Princess barked again and it was followed by a loud meow and Arran was quick to glance around while George and Purity smiled as they looked down at the dog and cat.
“You want your treat?” George asked with a smile and Princess wagged her tail while King wound himself around George’s legs.
George plied the animals with treats. No wonder they had hurried over to him and that made Arran wonder even more about the man.
The animals took their treat off to enjoy and George pulled something from one of the two sacks that hung on either side of the horse.
“A gift for you, Purity,” he said, shaking the material loose to reveal a hooded, dark wool cloak. “Yours is far too threadbare to keep you warm this winter. And with the way the animals are foraging and storing already, I’d say this winter is not going to be an easy one.”
Purity’s face lit bright and Arran was amazed by what a happy smile did to her features. She was far prettier than he had ever imagined. Again, it was difficult to reconcile the shy lass he once knew to this lovely woman. Or had he simply never bothered to truly look at Purity?
Purity took it from him. “How generous of you, George. It’s lovely and I’m grateful.” She slipped the cloak over her shoulders and hugged it to her tight. “The winter in the woods will surely be more bearable with this fine cloak.”
A blush ran up to stain George’s cheeks and he quickly turned away to fetch something off the horse.
Purity might think she’d be spending the winter here in the woods, but Arran knew better. She was going home whether she liked it or not.
George turned around, the blush almost faded, and held a skein of wine out to her that Arran quickly snatched out of his hands.
Purity turned an annoyed look on Arran.
“I must go,” George said hastily.