Entrusted to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy 2)

“Thank you, mistress. You are generous,” Iona said when Purity turned around. “I will make some fine meals with these spices.”

“I look forward to them.”

Iona wrinkled her nose. “I shouldn’t say this about a dead man but I didn’t like some of the herbs Orvin used. They had an odor when they should have had a pleasant scent.”

“You are a fine cook, Iona, and I’m grateful to have you.”

The woman’s cheeks turned rosy. “Thank you, mistress.”

Purity smiled and lowered her voice curious to ask, “Now tell me if you favor Quiver, for it’s obvious he favors you.”

Iona’s cheeks turned crimson and she grew flustered.

“I have my answer,” Purity announced with a chuckle. “And I for one believe you are perfect for each other.”

“Who’s perfect for each other?” Arran asked, stepping outside.

Purity saw Iona tense as if not sure what the chieftain would do if he found out, and she responded quickly, “You and I, of course. Absolutely perfect for each other. Don’t you agree, Iona?”

“Aye, mistress, perfect,” Iona said with relief and took the cloth from her mistress before hurrying off to the kitchen.

Arran reached out and captured his wife’s hand to tug her to him, his arms circling her waist once she was close. “I must speak with Freen and then I am done for the day,” he buried his face in her neck and teased it with kisses and nibbles.

“I know what you do, husband,” Purity said, her passion sparking with only the slightest encouragement from him.

He laughed softly. “I but kiss my wife.”

“Do not play the fool with me. You know what you do,” she accused, his sharp nip along her neck sending an ache between her legs that would have her begging him for more if she wasn’t careful. “You tease and torment.”

“I ready you for the pleasure we will share—later,” he argued, his gentle laughter proving her point.

“You torment me,” she protested.

He captured her chin in a strong grip. “And I torment myself as well. I ache for you, wife, and it is good to know you ache for me just as much.” He kissed her, her mouth opening to him, inviting him, and welcoming him.

The hungry kiss fired her passion even more and she had to stop herself from grabbing his arm and dragging him into the keep. And she knew, she felt, deep within her that he wouldn’t stop her.

She tore her mouth away. “I worry you will not have the stamina to make up for your husbandly duties that you have sorely neglected.”

His eyes spread wide along with his smile. “Are you challenging me?”

“A simple warning that I expect my husband to perform his duties with vigor tonight,” she said with a glint of challenge in her eyes.

“See that supper is brought to our bedchamber, since we will not be leaving it tonight,” he said and kissed her before stepping quickly away from her. “I won’t be long.”

Good Lord, she hoped not, though she didn’t voice her need. She did, however, respond and what she said surprised her as well as her husband. “If you are too long, I may just start without you.”

“Damn, Purity, now that image will linger in my head,” Arran said, shaking his head, trying to chase it away.

“Good, then you won’t take long,” she said and gave him a wicked grin as she moved to step past them.

“Sir.”

She cringed along with her husband hearing Freen’s voice. Lately he never brought good news.

“What is it now?” Arran snapped, annoyed.

Freen delivered the news with haste. “Brynjar is outside the village, Wolf’s warriors denying him entrance, and he demands to speak with you.”

Chapter 25

Arran would have preferred his wife not to be present when he spoke with Brynjar, but he was wise enough to know there would be no stopping her from being there. He had Freen escort the Northman to the keep. His warriors were made to wait outside the village, something that definitely would not set well with him. He rarely went anywhere without at least two warriors at his side.

“Do you fear me and my warriors that much that you refuse all but me entrance to your home?” Brynjar bellowed when he entered the Great Hall.

“Fear has nothing to do with it—evil does—and there is no trusting evil,” Arran said.

“There is truth to your words. The only thing is you’ve failed to recognize the evil in yourself. I saw it in you and I knew, given time, you could be more evil than me.”

“Never!” Purity said, defending her husband. “Arran is a good man.”

“When he wants to be,” Brynjar said, his eyes intent on Arran. “Don’t tell me killing didn’t come easily to you or that you cared for those you felled with your sword.” He raised his hands, holding them such that he looked to be squeezing something. “The most satisfying ones are those whose lives you take with your own hands.” He pounded his chest with his hands. “The satisfaction is exhilarating.”