Entrusted to a Highlander: Highland Promise Trilogy Book Two

by Donna Fletcher

  “I knew you would be a problem as soon as I met you. You weren’t the shy, obedient lass your father spoke of with such disdain. You’re a confident, determined woman that posed far too much danger to me.”

  His remark about how her father felt about her hurt, though she didn’t want to let it, but that Freen thought her confident and determined gave her the courage to do whatever was necessary to survive until help came in one way or another.

  “I’ve had enough,” Freen shouted.

  His fast footfalls let her know he was headed her way and she remained crouched down and moved as fast as she could. It was a game of cat and mouse around the tables until…

  Purity let out a yelp when his hand reached over the table and he grabbed her braid. He yanked it, forcing her to her feet.

  “I’ve got you now,” he said gleefully and grabbed her by the arm before releasing her braid and dragging her across the table to stand in front of him. He didn’t waste time in pulling her alongside him as he walked, and her heart pounded viciously in her chest when she saw where he was headed. On top of one of the tables laid a Northman spear.

  Purity struggled to break free, but his grip was too strong.

  “A quick, deep jab to your side will hold you still for a while, then you can watch as your beloved pets and friend die,” Freen said.

  Purity saw it coming, but Freen didn’t, and she ducked her head down as King came flying through the air, his claws spread. The cat let out a screech as he swiped at Freen’s face, his claws tearing at his eye, cheek, and lip. Freen screamed and his hand lost its grip on her.

  She yanked her arm free and ran, King on her heels.

  “I’m going to make you and that damn cat suffer until you beg me to end his and your life,” Freen screamed.

  She thought to run to the solar. Her father kept weapons there. At least with a weapon she had a chance of defending herself. But he would expect her to go there, it being the closest choice. She had to get a weapon and return to the Great Hall and protect Quiver and Princess before he could use them to threaten her to surrender. She looked to King before turning down the passageway to the kitchen. “Go keep Princess and Quiver safe until I return.” He took off without hesitation and so did she. She found a knife and she quickly examined the bowl of spices until she found the spicy one she had tasted and grabbed a handful.

  Cautiously, she made her way along the passageway to return to the Great Hall. By now he would have discovered she didn’t go to the solar and probably would have guessed she went to the kitchen. There was no point of her going upstairs. There were no weapons there that she knew of and she would have been trapped with only the stairs as an exit.

  She inched her way along the stone wall as quietly as possible, the darkness providing cover for her, but it also provided cover for him. She forced herself to concentrate and listen for the slightest sound and hearing nothing, she continued with a slow, cautious gait. When she got near the end of the passageway and saw the looming darkness waiting, she took a moment to stop. Her heart continued to beat madly and her stomach had twisted into knots and fear prickled her skin cold.

  You can do this, she silently told herself.

  She had to do this. She had no choice. She had to stay alive. She had to help Princess and Quiver. She couldn’t let Arran return home to find her dead. No matter what the darkness held, she had to step into it. She swallowed her fear and continued her cautious gait.

  “Got you!” he cried out, grabbing her as soon as she stepped out of the passageway.

  She threw the spices in his face and he screamed, the granules settling into his wounds and eyes, and once again she ran. She hurried into the Great Hall and found a hiding spot in the darkest shadow and allowed it to swallow her whole.

  She heard him stumble into the Great Hall.

  “I am so going to make you suffer,” he said, gasping in pain as his fingers tried to brush the spices from his face and only making it worse. “And I’m going to make sure you die slow and painfully.”

  He stepped into a spot where there was just enough light to see that his face beamed a molten red. It actually looked as if it were on fire and she imagined it was, the spices burning his wounds.

  Freen reached down and pulled a knife from his boot. “First you can watch me, kill that dog of yours.”

  Purity had no choice. Her fear of seeing Princess suffer and die was far greater than fear of her own suffering. She didn’t hesitate. She let out a bloodcurdling scream and, grasping the knife firmly, her hand shot up in the air as she came charging out of the darkness toward Freen.

  His eyes glowed with pleasure, seeing victory so close, and he ran toward her.

  They both were brought to a sudden halt by the tremendous sound of a crack of thunder that felt as if it shook the room. One look and they both saw that it hadn’t been thunder. It was the door. It had burst open with such force that it was torn off its hinges and crashed to the floor, splintering in two.

  And there, standing on the fallen door stood her husband, sword in hand, and a rage on his face that sent a chill through her.

  Purity’s instinct almost had her running to him, but fear for Princess and Quiver’s safety had her turning to confront Freen.

  He moved quicker than she did and grabbed her arm, slamming it against the table and forcing the knife to fall from her hand. Then he swung her around and she fell back against him. His arm went around her waist and his knife landed against her neck.

  “Come close and I’ll slit her throat,” Freen warned, stopping Arran in his tracks.

  She spotted Royden then. He had followed his brother in and stopped not far behind him and to his side, his sword in hand as well. She saw his mouth move, but couldn’t hear what he said. When she looked to her husband, she knew what his words must have been.

  Arran looked ready to charge the man. Royden must have cautioned him against it. Freen would slice her throat before he could reach her.

  Arran fought to control his anger, his jaw set tight as he spoke each word. “Let her go, Freen and I’ll let you go.”

  Freen gave a snorted laugh and shook his head. “And where will I go? Once Wolf finds out what I’ve done he’ll hunt me down. My life is over, but before I leave I’ll finish off the last of this worthless clan that has caused me nothing but misery. Whatever seed you’ve planted in her will never see fruition and that is a satisfying thought. Unless you want to exchange your life for hers.”

  “NO!” Purity shouted, Arran’s words drowning hers out.

  “AYE, I WILL!”

  “NO!” Purity shouted again.

  Freen pressed his cheek next to Purity’s. “Worry not. I’d rather see the look on his face as he watches me slice your throat and your life spill away.” He kissed her cheek roughly. “And I won’t even let him have the pleasure of taking my life. I’ll see it done before he can reach me.”

  “Are you ready to watch your wife die, Arran?” he tormented with gleefulness.

  “I love you, always,” Purity called out, trying to remain brave but her heart broke, shattered completely, that she wouldn’t live to share a life with the man she loved.

  “I swear I will let you go, Freen, and I will tell Wolf to leave you be,” Arran bargained, willing to do whatever it took to save his wife’s life.

  “Wolf wouldn’t care what you asked of him,” Freen said. “A warrior who goes against his orders dies. His warriors would see to it before I took a step off this land.”

  “I will have you escorted safely to wherever you want to go. You have my word,” Arran pleaded.

  “I like that you beg. It makes taking your wife’s life that more satisfying,” Freen said.

  “NO, KING!” Arran shouted, seeing the cat ready to attack Freen and fearing it could cost his wife her life. If he could keep the man talking, there was hope he could somehow keep his wife alive.

  “Wise move,” Freen said, seeing the cat stay where he was but not taking his eyes off Freen. “My
knife already cuts into her skin.”

  Purity felt the trickle of blood as he pressed the blade against her throat. She was going to die and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

  Arran saw it then, the flash of satisfaction in Freen’s eyes and he knew he was about to slice the blade across his wife’s neck. He’d never make it in time to stop him. He saw the resolve on Purity’s face that she knew she was about to die, and she smiled at him.

  He went to move, thinking he had to try. He had to do something when Freen’s wrist was suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked away from Purity.

  She ran and Arran ran… right into each other’s arms and hugged each other so tight it felt like they almost became one. They both looked to Freen, wondering what had happened. His eyes turned wide in shock, his chest expanded as his shoulders drew back, and his mouth fell open in a silent scream as the blade of a sword emerged from his chest. The knife, he still held, was jabbed into his throat. His eyes were spread wide and he gagged as his life dwindled away, then his lifeless body dropped to the floor.

  A dark figure emerged from the shadows and shoved his hood back revealing his face.

  “Abbott Thomas,” Purity cried out in disbelief.

  He smiled, took a step forward, and collapsed.

  Chapter 29

  One Month later

  * * *

  “Tell her or I will,” Arran warned.

  “How did you know?”

  “Only someone who loves deeply would give their life for another,” Arran said. “And I’m forever grateful that you were willing to do that and even more grateful you survived.” He raised his hand, not finished. “You owe it to her and yourself. My wife has suffered enough. She is entitled to know the truth.”

  “What truth?” Purity asked, hearing her husband as she approached where he and Abbott Thomas sat in the Great Hall.

  Arran stood and went to his wife, wrapping the shawl she wore more snugly around her. “You need to keep warm. A light autumn snow warns of a cold winter.” He kissed her firmly and reluctantly stepped away from her. He would have much rather carried her off to their bedchamber and spend the remainder of the evening making love with her. However, it was far more important that she speak with Abbott Thomas. “I will wait for you. Take all the time you need.”

  Purity stared after her husband as he left the Great Hall. What was so important that their lovemaking could wait?

  She turned to face Abbott Thomas. It hadn’t been an easy month and yet it had been a settling one. Wolf’s warriors had seen that Brynjar had been escorted to his sailing vessel and watched until he was out of sight. Still, sentinels had kept watch for over a week to make certain he didn’t return.

  Wolf had been furious when he had learned of Freen’s betrayal and offered Arran more warriors to keep watch over the Clan Macara. As much as her husband hadn’t wanted to accept the offer, he wisely chose to do so. When the clan saw the amount of warriors there to protect them, they praised the chieftain’s unselfish and wise decision.

  But it had been Abbott Thomas’s unselfish act to save Purity’s life when he himself had been injured that everyone gossiped about. A man of God had seen fit to protect their clan and they all felt blessed.

  Purity, however, had wondered over his actions. It had taken days for the Abbott to even wake and speak and weeks after before he was able to sit up in bed, thanks to Wren. She had seen to his wound and had warned he might not survive. He had, to the surprise and relief of everyone.

  It was only then they learned what happened to him. Abbott Thomas had told them that he had been suspicious of Freen after catching him in a few lies, but not enough to accuse him of anything. After all, a few lies were common among most so at first he had thought nothing of it. His suspicions grew and unfortunately so did Freen’s. He hadn’t gone far that day he left for the monastery when Freen attacked him. He fought him but Freen had managed to wound him badly, and thinking him dead, he left his body for the animals to feast on. He managed to find a modicum of shelter while he healed enough to be able to make it back to the keep. When he was finally well enough to return, or so he thought, he arrived late, the village quiet and to his surprise the keep locked. He knew something was seriously wrong. With his wound still making things difficult for him, it took a while for him to find a way into the keep. He finally managed to make it through a window in the solar. He was about to leave the solar when he heard the tremendous crash in the Great Hall. The rest was known to all.

  It was a tale that impressed and won the hearts of many.

  In the last couple of days, Abbott Thomas had ventured out of bed under strict orders from Wren. And while he thought it best for him to return to the monastery, Wren made it clear that wasn’t a wise choice. He wasn’t healed sufficiently enough for such a journey, even if it wasn’t a long one. Thankfully, he listened to her sage advice.

  Purity had sat with him often after the initial incident, talking to him when he couldn’t talk himself and reassuring him that he would be fine. She had thought he hadn’t heard her until one day she had seen a tear roll down his cheek.

  She joined the Abbott at the table, refilling his tankard and one for herself with hot cider. “What truth does my husband refer to?”

  Abbott Thomas looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts or perhaps his courage. When he turned to face her, his eyes shined with tears.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned he wasn’t feeling well.

  “Your husband is a much wiser man than I realized,” he said. “And your healer far superior to the one at the monastery. I am grateful to both, though concerned with what I must tell you.”

  Something churned in the pit of her stomach and she tried to convince herself it was the bairn she had realized only recently that she carried. It did no good. She knew the bairn had nothing to do with her unease.

  “Tell me, Abbott Thomas,” she urged.

  Instead of responding, Abbott Thomas began to unravel the cloth that covered his hand and Purity was stunned when he revealed it.

  It looked exactly like her deformed one, missing its thumb and pinky.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.

  “I never did either,” he said. “I only knew it was a mark my family bore with pride. It was said that anyone born this way was superior to others. I achieved far greater things than anyone in my family and I see that you have done the same.”

  Purity shook her head again. “What are you saying?”

  He held his tongue for a moment, then rushed the words out. “I’m your father, Purity.”

  She was too shocked to respond and she wished with all her heart her husband was there with her. And she got her wish.

  A strong arm wrapped around her, tucking her against him, keeping her close as Arran joined her at the table. He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “I couldn’t let you face this alone.”

  Purity let herself relax against him, to let his strength seep into her, and let his love wrap around her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Always, wife, always,” he whispered and kissed her temple again.

  “I don’t wish the news to upset you, but I thought it was time you knew the truth,” Abbott Thomas said and continued to explain, pleased Arran was there comforting Purity. “I loved your mother beyond reason and she loved me. We planned to wed when I returned from battle. Unfortunately, I was taken captive and didn’t return until several years later. By then, her father had wed her to Galvin and she was with child. I stayed away until I could stay away no more. When she realized she was with child—my child—we made plans to leave. Somehow your father got wind of it. It was made clear what would happen to the unborn child if your mother left him. So to keep you safe, I left. I didn’t stay in touch, fearful of what might happen if I did. It wasn’t until years later and by sheer accident that I learned your mother had died when you were very young. By then I had committed myself to God, knowing I could love no other w
oman as I loved your mother. What I didn’t know was how badly Galvin had treated you and for that I am eternally sorry.”

  Tears fell from Purity’s eyes and yet she smiled. “You don’t know what a relief it is to finally know why my father didn’t love me. I had always thought it had been something I’d done, or he abhorred my plain features, or he was ashamed of my deformity. It is good to know that it was because I was never truly his daughter.”

  “I regret what you suffered because of your mother and me—”

  Purity shook her head. “No, please don’t regret the love that gave me life. I am glad to know my mother and you loved as Arran and I love. And I am grateful that I will get to know my true father.”

  Sadness filled Abbott Thomas’s eyes. “No one can know.”

  Purity realized then why Arran had urged the Abbott to tell her. It was late and the Great Hall was empty, the servants having left for the night. No one was there to hear Abbott Thomas confess.

  Purity smiled and reached out, her deformed hand taking hold of his deformed hand. “We both know and that’s all that matters.”

  “I am proud of you, my daughter,” Abbott Thomas said, tears trickling down his cheeks.

  “And I am proud that my father saved my life,” she said unable to hold back her own tears.

  “I failed you all those years ago. I wasn’t about to fail you again,” he said, turning away, his tears choking his words.

  “I am grateful to you, Abbott Thomas,” Arran said. “I’d never felt such dread as I did standing there and knowing I couldn’t save my wife. I knew I’d never make it to her to stop Freen from taking her life. And my only thought was that I wanted to die with her.”

  Purity gasped. “No, Arran, you mustn’t think that way.”

  Arran rested his brow to Purity’s. “I go where you go, wife, even if that means following you into death.”

  “The good Lord spared you both,” Abbott Thomas said.