“At least you have some time before your father returns home,” Arran said, hoping it would bring some cheer to her.
“I wonder where he went,” Purity said, her brow wrinkling. “What took him away from the clan for so many days? And to leave the clan unattended…” She shook her head. “That’s not like him.”
“We’ll find out when he returns. It should be a good homecoming for him, finding us wed, since it’s what he’s wanted for so long.”
“Aye, I suppose he will be pleased.”
“Suppose?” Arran asked, curious, hearing doubt in her words.
“I wish I could say I knew my da, but I don’t. He spent little time with me, his choice, not mine. I never knew what to expect from him, a kind word or being completely ignored. So I never truly got to know my da,” Purity said and turned away in an effort to keep tears from falling.
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.”