“Your da has returned home,” Purity said, feeling it best not to speak any more about Raven.
“I know, Royden sent me a message. The witch returned with him.”
Purity looked to the cottage as she nodded. “This is Wren’s cottage. She offered it to me when she went home with your da. They fell in love.”
“So Royden’s message stated,” he said as if the news meant nothing to him.
His fingers had slipped down along her arm to rest just above her wrist, squeezing the flesh lightly. She didn’t think he even knew he did it and she hoped he wouldn’t stop. She wanted to linger in his touch that felt more intimate to her than he would ever know.
To keep him talking, she asked, “What happened with you after you were captured?”
“You don’t need to know,” he said and the finality of his words made it clear he would say no more about it.
“Tell me one thing,” she said, and before he could deny her, she asked, “Why is your hair cropped?”
“It got in the way of battle.”
His hand fell away from her arm and the strangest sensation took hold of her. She felt as if she’d lost a limb, like a part of her had suddenly gone missing.
He stood. “I need to settle my horse so she knows we will be staying here.”
He caught her unaware, her eyes widening in surprise. “You’re staying? For how long?”
“A day or two, enough time for you to gather your belongings.”
“My belongings?” she asked.
“Aye, you’re returning home with me,” he said and turned to walk away.
Purity scrambled to her feet. “I most certainly am not going home with you. This is my home and this is where I will stay.”
Arran turned and the intensity of his scowl had Purity taking a step back.
“You will be going home with me,” he said as if it had already been decided and turned away from her once again.
“No, I won’t,” she argued, the thought of losing her freedom to frightening to imagine.
He turned again. “I would think Raven spent more time with you than you tell me since you’ve become as stubborn and foolish as she.”
“I prefer stubborn and foolish, to the weak, shy, malleable woman I once was. I would have never survived the attack or what followed otherwise.”
“I suppose that is true, but you need not worry any longer. I will see you kept safe,” he said once again as if it had already been decided and he walked off, letting her know he’d hear no more about it.
Purity opened her mouth to argue, then clamped it shut. It would do no good to continue to argue with him. This was her home now and this was where she would stay. He had no say over her. No one did, at least here in the woods. If she returned home, it would be to live under her father’s dictate and she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.
She would talk with Arran later and make him see reason, if that was at all possible. Before she walked away, she called out to Arran. “The lean-to will provide shelter for your mare from the rain the approaching dark clouds bring.”
Arran had noticed the gathering dark clouds himself and walked the mare over to the lean-to and stowed the saddle and blanket back far enough so that the rain wouldn’t reach it.
“You’ll do fine here, Hope. We’ll have a rest for a day or two, then be on our way home. I’ll build you a fine shelter where no rain or snow will touch you.”
The horse snorted and Arran stroked her neck reassuringly. “Purity is a good woman. She loves animals and will be kind to you.”
He grew quiet thinking on the moment he had realized who she was. It had surprised—more so shocked—him as did the sudden feeling of contentment, relief, and a sense of finding something that had been lost to him that had taken hold of him. It had wrapped around him like a comforting, familiar hug and he had almost taken her in his arms, the urge to hold her tight against him overwhelming.
He had never been attracted to Purity, not because of her deformed hand, that never bothered him. It was his taste in women back then that kept him enjoying the women willing to couple for the fun of it. Marriage hadn’t been on his mind and it wasn’t now. He wasn’t fit to marry then and he was less than fit to marry now. While his need for a woman hadn’t abated, the fun he once had with women was now lost to him.
The mercenaries had supplied an endless array of women to their warriors to satisfy their needs. He had taken full advantage of it. It had helped him cope with being held captive. When he’d been with one of those women, it had been like being back in the barn with Flora, a woman he had regularly enjoyed a good poke, some talk, and laughter with. He’d been a favorite among the women in the mercenary camp, many fighting over him and he did his best to please them all until…