“I couldn’t agree more. I can’t stand to think of what she might have gone through.”
Both men turned silent for several minutes.
“You’re right, Royden, this needs to be settled so we can concentrate on finding Raven, and finally having our family whole again.”
Royden smiled. “A whole lot more is what our family will be with Oria delivering our bairn in early spring.” He elbowed his brother in the arm. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Purity delivered a fine bairn not long after. Then when we find Raven a good man to wed, she can add to the family. Life will be good again.”
“I pray you’re right,” Arran said, thinking of his wife upstairs in their bedchamber, her injured leg wrapped in a cloth that had been soaked in a comfrey brew. How did he seal their vows tonight when she was in pain? How didn’t he seal them when so much could go wrong if he didn’t seal them?
“Wolf hates Brynjar as much or more than you. I wouldn’t turn down any help he offered,” Royden said. “His warriors are far superior to any I’ve known.”
“I saw that myself and I’ll gladly take advantage of the help, though that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like the man.”
“I don’t either, but we can make good use of him when it suits us. What the future brings with him, we can only wait and see,” Royden said.
“You have a point and this is one situation where he can be useful,” Arran agreed.
“I should go, and don’t be surprised if Wren shows up here tomorrow with Da to see how Purity is doing.”
“I was counting on it,” Arran said, standing along with his brother.
They hugged at the door, Royden giving him a hardy slap on the back. “I’m here for you. Send that Quiver fellow if you need anything. He came riding in through the village like the devil was on his tail and yelling for me. He serves you well.”
“I was skeptical, but Purity wasn’t.”
Royden chuckled. “You might want to listen to your wife more often. Oria doesn’t care if I want to listen or not, she tells me anyway and I love her for it.”
Arran took time to talk with Wolf’s warriors in regard to sentinels. They were well aware of what Brynjar was capable of and agreed with the plan Arran laid out. He relieved Quiver of his duties at the door, not letting anyone know that someone would be watching it at all times, and now it was time for him to talk privately with Purity’s father.
He slowed his steps as he got near the door, hearing voices, and stopped completely when he heard his wife’s voice. She was supposed to be resting.
“If you think to berate me, don’t waste your breath, Father,” Purity said.
“You will mind your tongue when you speak to me, daughter,” Galvin admonished harshly.
Arran had all he could to do keep himself from bursting into the room and thrashing the man for speaking to his wife that way and for the years of treating her so poorly. He clenched his hands into tight fists, wishing he could lay just one good, solid punch on the man. And he would if Galvin continued to talk to Purity that way, but for now this was for her to do.
“I’m not that frightened young lass anymore who would scurry and hide when you got near, Father, or remain silent out of fear.”
“That is what a good daughter does and if you had been a good daughter none of this would have happened. And why, after all these years of refusing to wed you does Arran finally do so?” Galvin went on raving, not letting her respond. “If you think he did this out of some kind of duty, you are more a fool than I thought you were. And I will be even more disappointed in you if you believe the man wed you because he loves you. He uses you, and wisely so, and grabs a clan for himself, otherwise he’d always be in his brother’s shadow.”
Purity had suffered endless unkind words through the years, taking many to heart, this time his words shattered her heart. He might think that of Arran, but she didn’t. Or was it that she didn’t want to think it possible?
Doubt.
Doubt had been her tormentor through the years, and a little bit went a long way, and she hated that she allowed doubt entrance once again.
“Be wise for once in your life, Purity. See life for what it is and not what you dream. Love is for fools. You pitifully begged Arran to wed you years ago and he turned you down,” Galvin reminded. “Doesn’t that tell you something. The man couldn’t tolerate you then and probably still can’t tolerate you now. But he knows his duty as a husband and beds you anyway. He doesn’t love you and he never will. Maybe with the union of two strong clans your brother’s death won’t be in vain. The clan will thrive as planned, though I would have preferred your brother live than you.”