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  “Do you see or sense something?” Purity asked, anxious to see if Wren could tell her anything.

  “Nothing clearly, there seems to be a haze that hides things from me, which means I’m not meant to see.”

  “But the vision of the MacKinnon clan reuniting, that hasn’t changed has it?” Purity asked, still anxious.

  Wren laid a gentle hand on Purity’s shoulder. “I’ve seen nothing to believe otherwise.”

  “What of my wife? Is she in that vision?” Arran asked from the open doorway. Wren hesitated and that was enough for Arran. “She isn’t. You didn’t see her.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Wren said, “but the vision concerned your clan at the time.”

  “But Oria was in it, wasn’t she?” Arran asked, entering the room and going to the bed to reach for his wife’s hand as if by holding on to her, he wouldn’t lose her.

  “Aye, she was, but she was about to become Royden’s wife, which was why she would be in the vision,” Wren explained.

  His da had followed Arran into the room. “Wren can’t control what she sees, son.”

  “I can tell you that all appeared pleased in the vision,” Wren hurried to say.

  “Then all turns out well.” Purity smiled and held tight to her husband’s hand as a yawn hurried from her.

  Arran went down on his haunches beside the bed. “You need some sleep.”

  “I wonder why?” she whispered with a wicked smile.

  “Your husband is right,” Wren said. “A good solid rest will help heal your leg.”

  Arran brushed a few wisps of hair off her face. “You’ll do as the healer says.” He kissed her quick when she went to protest. “So you don’t make your husband worry needlessly.”

  “Aye, husband,” Purity agreed and looked to Wren. “Could you do me a favor, Wren?”

  “Of course,” Wren said.

  “I should warn you that it won’t be an easy one, but I feel it’s necessary. My father is very ill. Could you see if there is anything you can do for him?”

  “I will do whatever I can,” Wren assured her.

  “I’ll see that Galvin speaks with her,” Arran’s da said. “He can be a stubborn one, but there are times he can also see reason.”

  Purity had never experienced one of those times. It was either obey her father’s every word or else. She thanked them both and was glad Arran remained behind.

  “The day went far different than I had planned,” Arran said, getting up and nudging his wife with his hip, moving her just enough for him to have room to sit beside her.

  “How so?”

  “I intended for us to spend a lot of time alone together,” he said with a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

  She glimpsed a spark of the old Arran, the one who smiled often, teased playfully, and charmed endlessly. She didn’t expect all of that Arran to return, how could he with all he had been through? But the small bits that were returning were a welcome sight.

  “I would have enjoyed such a day,” she said, disappointed it had been lost to them.

  “And you will. I won’t give up on it. It will be ours,” he promised like a gallant knight on a mission.

  Purity yawned again.

  “Sleep, wife,” he said softly and leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. “You’ll need your strength for later.”

  “Aye,” she said, running a finger over his lips. “You have a duty to get me with child.”

  “There is that,” he said and kissed her again. “Or more so that I can’t resist my beautiful wife.”

  “It’s good to hear your tongue charms once again.”

  He pressed his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear, “My tongue speaks the truth. You are beautiful and I can’t resist you.” He stood. “And if I don’t leave here now, I’ll join you in that bed.” He raised his hand. “Not a word of temptation.” He hurried to the door. “Sleep and dream about me.”

  He laughed softly as he disappeared out the door.

  She so loved her husband and that was the thought she held onto as she drifted off to sleep.

  Purity woke a bit disoriented, not sure where she was. The flames in the fireplace cast a strange glow or was it that her eyes needed to adjust to the twilight in the room? She lay there, letting sleep drift off her and realized how quiet it was and she couldn’t explain it, but she got the strange sensation she was alone in the keep.

  She shook her head. That wasn’t possible and yet the thought nagged at her. She got out of bed, sitting on the edge a moment, her legs feeling a bit heavier than usual and there seemed to be no pain in her bruised leg. She stood and swayed, raising her arms to balance herself.

  What was wrong with her?

  The urge to find Arran overwhelmed her and she went to the door, lucky it was open since she grabbed it when she reached it, feeling a bit lightheaded. Something warned her to hurry and go find her husband. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hurry, her feet felt as if she dragged them, but she did her best to move as quickly as she could.

  She decided to stop in her father’s bedchamber to see if anyone was there and when she found it empty, not even a fire in the hearth, fear rushed up to claw at her. She continued on and when she reached the Great Hall and found it empty, heard not a sound, her fear grew.

  Where was everyone and where was King and Princess? They would never leave her alone and either would her husband.

  She made her way to the kitchen only to find it deserted as if everyone had rushed out of there, leaving their work unfinished. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong, very wrong. She hurried back to the Great Hall and outside to find it was night with barely a star in the sky and not a sound to be heard.

  Suddenly, it was as if someone poked her.

  A dream. You’re in a dream. Wake up! Wake up now!

  “TOO LATE!” a strong voice called out and a dark shadow emerged from the darkness. “You’ll come with me. Arran is gone. You’re mine now.”

  A hand reached out and grabbed her, and she screamed and screamed and screamed.

  Someone was tapping her on the cheek and she heard Princess barking loudly. When she finally got her eyes open it was to find King sitting on her chest, swatting her with his paw, Princess barking furiously, and her husband rushing through the door.

  Purity sprang up in bed, King jumping off her, and she frantically stretched her arms out to her husband. His arms latched around her, lifting her up against him. He quickly sat on the bed and rested her in his lap, hugging her as tight as he could.

  Princess licked her leg and King rubbed against her back, both offering comfort.

  Purity’s arms had gone around his neck no sooner as he had taken her in his arms and she had kept them snug around him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and went to shut her eyes and stopped. She wouldn’t dare take the chance of falling into that horrible dream again.

  “I was coming up the stairs to check on you when your screams echoed down along the stone walls. I thought the animals were eager to see you when they took off ahead me, but both of them must have sensed something was wrong. Then you screamed.”

  “A dream. A horrible dream,” she said, looking up at him, needing to see his face and focus on it as she detailed the dream, trembling as she did.

  Arran reached down over the side of the bed where one of the blankets that his wife’s leg had rested upon had fallen and snatched it up. He draped it around her, though didn’t tuck it between them. He needed to feel her warm and safe against him.

  “I would never let anyone take you from me,” Arran said, just the thought of it sending a rage rolling through him.

  “Promise,” she said, still reeling with fear from the dream.

  “You have my word, wife,” he assured her. She might not have seen Brynjar in her dream but that was who frightened her and there was no way he’d let Brynjar get near his wife.

  Purity relaxed against him, her heart no longer pounding in her chest and her fear easing. She was safe with he
r husband. He would always protect her and so would King and Princess. She looked around for the pair and saw them lying by the hearth, King curled against Princess. Even they knew she was safe with Arran.

  She laid her head on his chest. “I will be glad when this is done.”

  “So will I,” he said, though knew this could only end one way.

  Brynjar had to die.

  Chapter 20

  Purity lay on her side in bed, fear stirring in her. Not wanting to disturb her husband sleeping soundly, she had quietly hurried out of bed to let King and Princess, both waiting patiently by the door, out. Quiver had taken to waiting in the Great Hall for them in the morning and walking through the village with them. It made the animals and him both happy.

  Happy.

  That was the crux of her fear now. She’d never known such happiness as she did with Arran, even more so now after making love with him. Something was bound to happen to snatch it away from her. She could almost feel it. Something was brewing, something wasn’t right, and she couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her old life—a life without Arran.

  “I can feel your unease, wife,” Arran said as he wrapped himself around her naked body and nibbled at her neck. “What worries you?”

  She should have known he wasn’t asleep. She turned on her back, her husband’s leg slipping over hers, nudging itself between her legs and his hand settling on her breast to squeeze gently. It wouldn’t be long before they made love again as they had each morning this last week and nights as well and even once in the afternoon. Purity had eagerly welcomed each encounter as she did now. Her husband did as well, since she felt his swollen shaft poke against her. And yet he waited, concerned for what worried her.

  She reached up to stroke his lips with her thumb as she spoke, “What worries me is losing you, what we have together, what we’re yet to share.”

  “Brynjar’s presence has put this fear in you. Don’t let him. This is not his land, his people. He will not succeed here.” Arran grabbed her thumb to suckle on briefly, releasing it with a gentle nip. “As much as I hate Wolf, he hates Brynjar even more, though no one speaks of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wolf has more men watching Brynjar than anyone knows about.”

  “Then how could Brynjar kill one of Wolf’s warriors?” Purity asked, the warrior’s death continuing to trouble her.

  “Brynjar could have left warriors behind to keep watch.”

  “But why kill the warrior?” she asked.

  “Wolf’s warrior probably discovered him.” Arran kissed her before she could say another word. “No more worries, wife,” he whispered close to her lips after ending the kiss. “More precautions have been taken and this matter will be settled soon. Besides, there is another matter that needs my immediate attention.”

  Purity smiled. “Making a bairn.”

  “Aye, wife,” he said and his lips settled eagerly on hers.

  The pounding on their door had them both jumping and Arran swearing.

  “The Abbott approaches, hurry and meet him so this mess can be settled,” her father commanded.

  “I don’t know whether to bless or curse Wren for giving your father that brew,” Arran grumbled and gave his wife’s breast a quick kiss before getting out of bed and yanking her along with him.

  “It’s good his pain has lessened and he’s feeling better,” Purity said, reluctantly reaching for her garments.

  “That could be debated,” he said and grabbed her around the waist to pull her against him. “We could make it a quick one.”

  She had no doubt he could with how hard he was, his shaft not only poking at her but her already mounted passion as well. She didn’t think twice, she grabbed his hand and hurried him to the bed, falling down on it and spreading her legs.

  Arran didn’t waste a minute either. He took hold of her legs, lifting her enough to enter her easily and it was quicker than they both expected. A few hard thrusts and they both climaxed together. The short tryst bringing satisfied shivers and grins to them both.

  They hurried to dress and before they left the room, Arran took his wife in his arms.

  “Lord, but I love you, wife,” he said and kissed her.

  Purity was stunned, though she had no time to respond. He rushed them out the door, though slowed their pace down the stairs.

  “Your leg. Take your time,” he said, recalling her injury that she claimed had healed.

  She barely heard him, his words continuing to repeat in her head.

  I love you, wife. I love you, wife.

  He had said it with such ease, so naturally that it had to be the truth. He loved her. Her husband loved her.

  They entered the Great Hall the same time the Abbott did.

  Her father greeted the man enthusiastically. “Welcome. Welcome, Abbott Thomas. I’m sure you can settle this disturbing matter for us once and for all.”

  Purity had never met Abbott Thomas, though she had heard enough about him. He was a tall man and slim with a stern countenance to him. His white hair spoke of an aged man and yet his good features with few wrinkles belied the same. His hands lay crossed over his waist and buried deep in the wide sleeves of his brown robe.

  Arran acknowledged the man with a nod. “Abbott Thomas, I am Arran, Purity’s husband.”

  Abbott Thomas gave him a nod, then turned to Purity.

  “Your hand, daughter,” her father scolded, nodding at her claw-like hand, resting on her stomach. “We will not burden the Abbott with looking upon your affliction.”

  Arran took Purity’s deformed hand in his. “There is nothing wrong with her hand.”

  “Of course not,” Abbott Thomas said. “God gives to the strong those that the weak cannot handle. Purity is a shining example of His strength.”

  The Abbott’s remark stunned Purity. She had always been told her deformed hand was the sign of the devil. Never had anyone every professed it to be a sign from God.

  “I must congratulate you both on your marriage,” Abbot Thomas said, a smile finally surfacing on his otherwise stern face.

  Galvin released a heavy sigh. “Then they are wed.”

  “Of course they are,” Abbott Thomas assured him. “Brother Noble had it recorded at the monastery weeks ago.”

  Purity didn’t think it had been weeks, but she hadn’t exactly been keeping track of time.

  “I will send word to Brynjar and see him sent on his way,” Galvin announced with glee. “Though he might want to speak with you, Brother Abbott.”

  “I’d be only too glad to confirm Arran and Purity’s marriage. And I would be delighted if they would allow me to join them in marriage in front of family and friends so that no one can ever doubt they are husband and wife.”

  “I’d like that,” Arran said to Purity’s surprise. “I want witnesses to see that I take this woman as my wife of my own free will.”

  Her husband stunned her again, his words filling her with joy.

  “That is most honorable, Arran,” Abbott Thomas said.

  “Aye, a wise idea,” Galvin joined in. “And a small feast to follow.”

  Purity stared at her father. He actually seemed to favor the celebration, but why not? It gained him what he wanted all along.

  “Daughter, you will speak to Iona about the feast, a wise choice you made appointing her cook. Her food is much tastier than Orvin’s. And Arran, you must send notice to your family and I will send invites to the other clans. In three days’ time we shall hold the ceremony and the feast, if that is agreeable with you, Abbott Thomas,” Galvin said, his excitement palpable.

  “I look forward to it. It has been too long since I attended a happy celebration,” Abbott Thomas said.

  For a moment, Purity thought she was dreaming again. Her father looked quite happy and her husband did as well. Even Abbott Thomas seemed more pleasant. Was all this real? Could the whole thing possibly be a dream and she had yet to wake?

  “What are you waiting for, daughter?’ her father snapped. “Go sp
eak with Iona now. She needs time to prepare for the feast.”

  “After Purity eats,” Arran said, holding tight to his wife’s hand.

  “Of course, in my excitement I forgot, and Abbott Thomas needs food and drink after his journey,” Galvin said.

  “I could do with both and then a bedchamber where I may pray and rest,” Abbott Thomas said.

  They all took seats at the dais and food and drink began streaming in from the kitchen.

  Purity saw that the Abbott’s one hand was wrapped in a cloth and curiosity had her asking, “You suffered an injury, Abbott Thomas.”

  “A stubborn injury that refuses to heal,” he acknowledged.

  “There is a fine healer in the Clan MacKinnon. Wren could have a look at it if you’d like,” Purity said.

  “The Abbott is a man of God and Wren is a witch,” Galvin reprimanded in a harsh whisper.

  “Wren is no witch. That is nothing more than evil gossip. She is a fine healer and she helped you,” Purity reminded. “Your stomach pains you less and you’re eating better.”

  “There is a healer monk at the monastery who helps me,” the Abbott said and that brought the conversation to an end.

  Talk continued rather pleasantly after that and Purity found she was enjoying herself, something she had never done at the dais before this. That was until the door burst open and Brynjar entered the room like a raging animal.

  “You feast and talk without me,” he roared. “What lies have you concocted to tell me?”

  Two of his men followed him in and stood behind him to either side, their eyes darting around the room before settling on the dais.

  Purity instinctively reached for her husband’s hand only to find he did the same, their hands meeting under the table and grasping onto to each other tightly. He was there for her, just as he said he would be.

  “Abbott Thomas has confirmed that Arran and Purity wed weeks ago. That negates the arrangement we had and the proxy marriage,” Galvin said as if that settled it.

  “I’m to take your word for this when I don’t even know if this man is who you say he is?” Brynjar demanded.

  Abbott Thomas stood, his stern countenance having returned. “Do you accuse me, a man of God, of lying?’ He didn’t wait for a response. “But then what else is to be expected of a heathen.”