Entrusted to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy #2) - Donna Fletcher Page 0,96

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.

“And what do you have to offer, Clive?” she asked, wondering if she should trust him or not.

“Spices that tempt the tongue and beautiful cloth finely weaved by talented hands,” he said with a chuckle to his words, then quickly lowered his voice. “And a message from a friend.”

“Let me taste these spices you praise,” she said and stepped closer to him.

Clive rummaged in his cart and produced several small sacks he sat on the cart’s seat. He opened one, holding it out for her to try. “George hopes you have fared well with the man Arran he met.”

Purity’s worry eased some. Clive had to know George if he had that information. Still, she would be cautious. “You can assure George all is well. Arran is now my husband.” She dipped her finger in the sack and caught a small amount between two fingers to drop in the palm of her hand and examine.

“Then please accept this spice as a gift for such joyous news,” Clive said, seeming far more pleased at the news than Purity would expect a stranger to be. “And I will be sure to share the wonderful news with George when I meet him at Stitchill Monastery.”

“He has not left on another merchant journey?” she asked.

Clive smiled and lowered his voice. “He’s no longer a merchant, but you knew that and were testing me to