Purity walked over to where he stood by the hearth and reached out to swat him in the arm only to be grabbed by her wrist before she reached him and swung around to land against her husband in a tight embrace.
“It’s been too long since I’ve held you close,” he said in a whisper that sent a tingle racing through her.
“It’s been too long for many things,” she murmured.
“Of which I will remedy tonight.”
“You both know I can hear you, right?” Royden asked with a laugh. “So let’s be done with this discussion so you both can try to catch up with Oria and me in making bairns.” He laughed again. “You know I’m going to have more bairns than you, don’t you, Arran?”
“I wouldn’t count on that. Perhaps my wife will deliver two to your one,” Arran challenged.
That had Purity turning wide eyes on her husband. “If that is what you intend, then I would suggest you attend to your husbandly duties more often.”
Her blunt remark and Arran’s shocked expression had Royden bursting out in hardy laughter. “You’ve met your match,” he managed to say through his laughter.
“And then some,” Arran agreed and pressed his lips next to her ear as if he was kissing her, but whispered, “You’ll find how well I tend to my duties tonight.”
The glint in his dark eyes and his smug smile told her that his remark did exactly what he intended—it turned her wet.
“I’m going to make sure that passion stays in your eyes for the remainder of the day.” He kissed her cheek and kept her tucked close against him and looked to his brother. “Who else would feel he had lost something that belonged to him besides Brynjar?”
“Wolf,” Royden said. “The Clan Macara is lost to him with your marriage to Purity.”
It was what Royden didn’t say that doused Purity’s passion-filled stupor. “And if Wolf killed Arran then he could force a husband of his choosing on me and regain the Clan Macara.”
“That would explain Galvin’s death,” Arran said, feeling the slight tremble in his wife’s hand as she rested it on his arm that coiled around her waist. The thought had upset her while it had angered him to think that the man who had caused him such misery these last five years could rob him of a life with his wife, the woman he had lost his heart to.
“But what of the warrior and Orvin?” Purity asked. “What part do they play in this?”
“Both could have discovered something this person didn’t want revealed,” Royden said and shrugged. “Though reason would still see Brynjar as the culprit.” He gave a nod to his brother. “It still does not sit well with him that Wolf was victorious in rescuing you and another prisoner and that several of his warriors were killed during that attack.”
“True, but he would hold that against Wolf, not me, since he ordered the rescue,” Arran said.
“Still, you and the other man were taken from him and Brynjar does not like when things are taken without his permission,” Royden said.
“We have Brynjar, Wolf, or an unidentified person who could be the culprit,” Arran said.
“The most dangerous one being the unidentified person,” Purity said. “You can’t stop who you don’t know.”
A light rain forced Purity to remain in the keep. She kept to the Great Hall, watching various men march through to meet with her husband. Princess and King were content to sleep by the hearth. They had adapted well to their new home, though Purity envied King. He’d disappear at times and she knew he went into the woods to explore and hunt. Sometimes she missed her days in the woods, but then she’d think of Arran and knew she’d miss him far more.
“Excuse me, mistress,” Iona said bringing Purity out of her musings to turn a smile on the young woman. “A traveling merchant is here and asks if you’d like to inspect his wares. Your father would chase him away, but he says he has some spices that would flavor the food nicely. He also says he’s a friend of George’s.”
Purity hurried to her feet so fast she had King and Princess jumping up and they rushed to follow along with her to the kitchen and out the door to where the merchant waited. She was anxious to see the man since he could have a message from George for her.
The rain had turned to barely a drizzle and King and Princess were quick to stay close to her when they spotted a man unfamiliar to them.
“Good day to you, mistress, I’m Clive, and a friend to George,” he said with a broad smile. “He assured me you would be interested in what I have to offer you.”
She looked over the man as he talked. His beard and sparse hair were the same white and gray mixture and wrinkles hugged the corner of his eyes. Both spoke of age, yet his blue eyes were sharp and intent, not missing a thing, and his body appeared fit.