“How did one of Wolf’s warriors and Orvin stand in his way?” Purity asked confused.
“Find the answer to that and you’ll find the evil one.”
Purity wished she could keep her mind on the celebration, on this special day, but Wren’s words remained with her long after the woman and Parlan took their leave along with Oria and Royden.
The hour had grown late, the bonfire had died down and would not last long, and the villagers began to drift off to their homes, not only overstuffed with food and drink but with enjoyment that had long been absent from their lives.
The murders had been pushed aside and replaced with the promise of a good tomorrow with Arran and Purity’s wedding. The Clan Macara had a future with the couple and with those who had laid claim to the surrounding clans having participated in the celebration, it showed that peace was at hand.
“I believe we are long overdue to take our leave from the festivities, wife,” Arran said, his arms going around her and drawing her back against him.
“It is the second time we exchanged vows, husband, and I for one enjoyed spending time with friends and making new ones.”
He pressed his cheek to hers. “I agree and surprisingly I believe your father felt the same since he was more cordial than usual, talking, laughing, and drinking with everyone.”
“His worries are at an end. He has what he wants. What he originally wanted—you to wed me. His clan’s future is not only secured, but he sees power and influence with us wed.”
“The Clan MacKinnon is not as powerful as it once was.”
“You’re wrong,” Purity chided. “It is even more powerful since your clan did not fall to the enemy. You all survived and returned home to reclaim what was yours and prevented the complete defeat of this area. You stopped the enemy from claiming victory. Now he is forced to live among you in peace. The Clan MacKinnon was the victor in this battle and that will not be forgotten.”
“I like the way you make me sound like a champion,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“You are a champion—you’re my champion.”
Arran swung her up into his arms. “Your champion is about to claim his bride.”
Purity’s chuckle came to an abrupt halt when her husband turned with a flourish to see Abbott Thomas standing there.
“Forgive me for disturbing you, but I can’t seem to find your father, Purity. I wanted to say my good-byes since I will be taking my leave at sunrise and I don’t believe he’ll have risen by then since he has thoroughly enjoyed the celebration.”
Purity realized then that she hadn’t seen her father in a while as well. “He may have already retired, Abbott Thomas.”
“Then please give him my regards and tell him I truly enjoyed my time here, and I bid you both good-night and wish you a happy and fruitful life together.”
“You want to check his bedchamber, don’t you?” Arran asked as he entered the keep with his wife still in his arms.
“Would you mind?” she asked. “I just want to make sure.”
“I want you completely relaxed and not worried about anything when we finally slip into bed together. So if seeing that your father is safely tucked in bed will alleviate your worry, then that is what we will do.” He nodded toward the hearth in the Great Hall. “At least we know where King and Princess are.”
Purity looked to see King curled against Princess close to the hearth. They had filled themselves with food and attention and were sound asleep. She kissed her husband’s cheek. “You are a good husband.”
He nibbled at her ear. “I’m going to be a wicked husband tonight.”
His nibbles sent a shiver through her and she drew her shoulders up. “I love when you’re wicked.”
“Then you’re definitely going to love me tonight, wife,” he whispered near her ear and nibbled along it some more.
Purity almost regretted asking her husband to stop at her father’s bedchamber when he placed her on her feet. “A quick peek,” she said, wanting to return to his arms. She eased the door open and with the light of the blazing flames in the hearth it was easy to see the bed was unoccupied. She pushed the door all the way open and entered the room, her husband entering right behind her. She looked around, then turned to her husband, stating the obvious. “He’s not here.”
Arran heard the concern in her voice and took her hand. “We’ll find him, then we’ll settle in our bedchamber for the night.”
King and Princess came awake when some of the servants were asked when they had last seen the chieftain. Quiver soon joined them, having been in the kitchen with Iona as she finished up for the day.
“The last time I saw the chieftain, he was talking to your father,” Quiver said to Arran, “but that was before nightfall. I’m not one to ask, since I spent a good portion of the time with Iona.”