“From the look of you, I don’t have to wait long, though I could hasten your demise.” Arran didn’t care if he insulted or threatened the man, not after he showed not an ounce of remorse or worry for what he’d done to his daughter.
“You say nothing in my defense, daughter?” Galvin demanded, turning a stern eye on her.
“You made it clear to me ever since I was young that a woman never questions her husband, that she obeys him in all things. I finally do as you say, Father.” She smiled. “I don’t question my husband.”
Galvin collapsed back in the chair. “You have changed, daughter. You’ve gained courage. And you, Arran, your tongue cuts sharp, a far cry from the way it once charmed. That’s good. You need a sharp tongue to be chieftain and rule men.” He cringed, his hand going to his stomach.
Purity didn’t understand why it hurt her to see her father suffer, but then he was her father, all she had left of her family.
“I had hoped to see a grandson born, but the pain worsens in me every day and I can eat little. It does help knowing that Arran will make a fine chieftain of the Clan Macara.”
“Then make him chieftain now,” Purity said, surprising both men.
Galvin glared at her, ready to argue, but the flare in his eyes faded quickly.
“You know the wisdom of my words, Father. With Arran appointed chieftain, it strengthens his foothold here and—”
“Gives him complete authority,” Galvin said with less anger than Purity expected.
“It also allows you to see how deeply he plants roots here and lets you watch your clan grow ever stronger and see me round with a future Macara.”
Galvin’s eyes brightened. “You’re with child?”
“I will know soon enough,” she said and she would since tonight they had no choice but to couple and make it a possibility.
“When you are with child, I will make Arran chieftain, and on that you have my word,” Galvin said.
Arran’s arm supported Purity as they made their way upstairs, her limp troubling him.
“You should have stayed off your feet,” he said, scooping her up in his arms.
“I had to talk with my father. I had to know,” she said.
Her eyes filled with tears again and he so badly wanted to deposit his wife in their bedchamber, then go give her father a good beating. But it would solve nothing.
Instead, he asked, “Know what?”
She shook her head. “I’m a glutton for heartache. I’ve known since I was young that my father cared not an ounce for me, though he’d never said it. I had to know for sure this time. I wanted to hear it from him. I just wish I knew why he’s always hated me.”
The man deserved to suffer and then some for all the pain he had inflicted on his daughter.
“He’s a selfish man. He cares more about leaving a legacy than what he has right in front of him… a beautiful, kind daughter who will see his bloodline carried on.”
She turned her face away from him as they entered the room.
“Purity,” he said softly, keeping her in his arms.
She turned her face back around. “You didn’t have to say you loved me.” She finished the rest of what she wanted to say in her head. Not until you’re ready to.
He’d surprised himself when he’d said it. What was even more surprising was that he had meant it, but he doubted she would believe him if he told her that now. He scarcely believed it himself and yet he felt it. He felt it deep down where he never thought he’d ever feel again and that in itself was frightening.
He felt compelled to say it anyway, but her fingers landed on his lips stopping him from responding.
“Don’t,” she whispered, resting her brow to his. “I want you to mean it when you say it.”
It would do no good to force it now, another time. Now, however, he could show her what it was like to be loved by her husband.
He opened his mouth and before her fingers could slip away he kissed them. “I’m going to make love to you.”
Purity smiled and wiggled to get out of his arms. “Hurry before someone stops us.”
“Hurry is one thing we’re not going to do, wife,” he said as he carried her to the bed.
Chapter 18
Arran sat Purity down gently on her feet. “Your leg—”
“Is doing well. I applied a comfrey soak,” she assured him.
He ran one finger faintly over her lips. “One soak will not do.”
“Later I’ll apply another,” she said, the faint touch of his finger sending tantalizing tingles along her flesh.
He brought his lips to hers. “You will make sure of it?” His warm breath whispered across her lips, leaving a hint of a kiss.
“Aye,” she murmured and touched her lips with his faintly to remind herself this was real. It wasn’t a dream. Arran was her husband and they would make love.