Highland Archer

by Hildie McQueen

  Although Valent never spoke much about his desire for children, one night he assured her that if they did not procreate, it was probably his fault. He recounted one hard beating he’d received as a young boy where he’d bled from between his legs quite profusely.

  Her heart ached for the young boy he’d been, growing up alone, left to fend for himself, with only old man Tavish to look after him.

  Yet he’d grown to be a master archer, a formidable, handsome man who should have been laird to Clan McKenzie.

  “You seem troubled,” Lily said studying her face. “Is something wrong?”

  Lost in her musings, Ariana had not noticed the men had moved away to sit by the hearth. “I can’t help but wish for my own children when seeing my beautiful niece and nephew,” she replied honestly, never able to keep things from Lily.

  “Are you sure you are not with child now?” Lily leaned closer. “You have a certain look about you. Something different.”

  She was unhappy at the moment, not sure how to deal with what had transpired between her and Valent. That was certainly different. The past five years, she had her head in the clouds, so in love with her husband, barely anything other than that mattered. “I do need to talk to you about something.” Ariana stole at glance at the men who were now drinking mead and seeming to settle into a comfortable silence.

  “Let’s take the children up to the sitting room.” Lily hoisted little Donall to her hip. “Bring Ana.”

  * * *

  “Oh my goodness,” Lily repeated for the third time, her eyes round with worry. “I find it hard to believe. Valent has always treasured you so.”

  “He was not himself, so filled with grief, he was lost.”

  “Have you spoken to him about it? Are you afraid of it happening again if you join with him?”

  Ariana let out a tired breath. “He has apologized over and over. I have forgiven him, of course. A part of me understands, but I am also afraid of him.” A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away. “What should I do?”

  Lily patted her hand and looked to the now slumbering Ana in thought. “Make love with him, Ariana. It is the only way. You have to get over the fear. He adores you and I am sure he’d rather die than treat you in such a manner again.”

  “When did you become so wise? You are younger than I am, yet seem so much older at times.” Ariana hugged Lily. “I miss you.”

  “As do I, which is why we are here. Ceardac became tired of my bemoaning about you and how much I want to see you.” Lily deepened her voice. “We were just here but several weeks ago.” She giggled. “This morning he brought the carriage around and told me to pack the children.”

  “You are certainly my brother’s weak spot.”

  That evening, all through the last meal, Ariana stole glances at her husband. Regardless of his morose mood that evening, he was too handsome for words. With hair as dark as midnight and eyes the color of a morning sky, the contrast was striking. He wore his beard shorn close to his face, which hid the cleft of his chin.

  His gaze moved to her and in the depths of the gray pools, she saw regret and sorrow. Ariana reached for his hand under the table. She squeezed it reassuringly and he blinked in surprise. After he let out a breath, he searched her face for a sign of what she was thinking.

  She was already in bed when he entered the chamber. From a trunk at the foot of it, he pulled out a thick blanket so he could lay upon it on the floor. No matter how many times she’d asked him to join her in bed, he refused and continued to sleep on the floor before the hearth.

  “Valent. Please, come to bed.”

  He moved to stand closer and looked down at her. “You cringe when I reach for you. I am not certain I can keep from seeking you when I lay next to you.”

  “Let us try. I miss you.”

  It was a long moment, but he finally nodded. He went back to the foot of the bed and removed his clothing before sliding under the coverings. He lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m glad Ceardac and Lily came. You miss your friend.”

  “Aye, I do. I cannot wait to spend the day with her and the children tomorrow.”

  “Ceardac asked me to come with him to the Highland games next month. To compete in archery for his clan.”

  Ariana slid her hand over his chest and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “That is cheating. You always win.” His inhalation was shaky. It always excited her to see how much she affected her husband.

  Valent remained still, not moving toward her, but his voice became husky. “I will go, I think.”

  Her hand moved down to his flat stomach. “I think you should.”

  “Ariana,” he said turning to her. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I am doing?” She’d reached his rigid length and curled her fingers around it. Valent’s lips parted and he swallowed. “Do as you wish with me, I belong to you completely.”

  Of course, he would give her total control. It was the only way she could be reassured. Her heart broke for him, but at the same time, she needed him more than ever. Her body screamed for his.

  She climbed over him and straddled his midsection while running her hands down his chest. Valent watched her, his eyes darkening, his breathing fast.

  When she leaned over him and took his mouth, he let out a moan of relief but remained passive, his hands to his sides. Her lips traveled over his, nipping at his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth. He parted and allowed her tongue to delve in. She felt empowered that the warrior would be so passive to her ministrations and became bolder.

  She took his face with both hands and moved from his mouth to the side of his face and down to his throat. Licking, kissing, and biting lightly.

  Valent moaned and his hips lifted just a bit. By the way he trembled, it was obvious he fought the urge to touch her.

  “Do not move.” Ariana’s words seemed to affect him more as his lips parted and he swallowed before nodding. She trailed her tongue from his throat to his chest, then with it pointed, she twirled it around his taut nipple.

  “Ariana,” he pronounced her name with desperation. “I love you.”

  She ignored the silent plea to allow him to touch her. Instead, she continued her trek, moving across his chest to the other nipple.

  Reaching between them, she gripped his rigid erection and stroked it, her eyes on his face. His eyes clenched shut, he fought for control gripping the blankets in tight fists and gasping with each slide of her hand.

  Her sex throbbed with need and for a moment, she became afraid of what would happen if they joined. Would he lose control again?

  No, he would flee before hurting her so. She knew it deep in her soul. His eyes flew open as if he sensed her inner battle. In them, she saw reassurance and longing.

  She positioned him at her entrance and slowly moved down, taking him in. He was large, always stretching and filling her fully. Once he was totally entrenched in her, she let out a harsh breath. God how she needed this man, how she loved everything about him. They would overcome this. He shook with restraint, yet didn’t attempt to move, seeming to know she had to do this in order for their relationship to move forward.

  When she lifted and lowered, both let out a moan. Tonight he would be hers and, without a doubt, he would take all she gave.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ariana found Valent in the stables. He’d been gone all day. The day before, he came to bed late and left before she woke. It was obvious he avoided her and she was tired of it. She’d given him time and as much as she grieved for the loss of Arrow, it was strange that he took it so hard.

  He was bent over brushing his steed when she walked in. If he heard her, he didn’t act like it. “Valent?”

  Her husband straightened and looked over his shoulder to her but did not say anything.

  Trying hard to keep her famous temper in check, she moved closer and crossed her arms. “Why are you avoiding me?”

  “I do not avoid you. I only seek time alo
ne,” he replied, not stopping in his task.

  Without thinking, she stomped closer and slapped the brush from his hand. “Talk to me.”

  The emotion in his eyes was overwhelming, anger raged against sorrow in the stormy gray. His nostrils flared, the only outward sign at her action. “Leave me be, Ariana. I will come inside once I finish.”

  “When? Tonight after you think I’ve fallen asleep?”

  Seeming to realize she would not leave, he took her arm and walked with her outside to a short rock wall. The chill in the air matched the frostiness in his eyes when he waited for her to speak. It terrified her. Valent had always regarded her with warmth, his eyes usually darkening with want when looking upon her. Today she saw nothing but emptiness.

  “Please, tell me what is wrong. Have I done something to displease you? I thought after the other night, things were better.”

  He let out a breath and bowed his head. “I am not the man for you, Ariana. I should not have come back for you.”

  His words sliced her heart and, instinctively, she placed her hand flat against her chest. “What are you talking about?”

  When his gaze met hers, his eyes were bright with moisture. “I cannot father children, which I know you want. I mistreated you and no matter what happened the other night, it does not remove the stain of it from my mind. I am a simple archer, not meant for all of this. It is all a mistake.”

  The sound of her palm against his face was loud and it stung, both her hand and in her chest. Rage surged and she could not help but slap him again.

  Valent stared at her agog, his mouth falling open, his eyes wide.

  “Don’t you ever speak of yourself in such a manner,” she spat. “I love you and accept you as you are. No one has a perfect marriage, Valent, but when doubt is allowed in, then things become worse. Yes, you took your grief out on me and it took me some time to recover. But my trust in you overtook any fear.”

  When a tear slipped down the proud man’s cheek, her heart went to him, but she refused to soften as he would rebuff any kindness at the moment.

  “Now,” she said firmly, gaining his attention again. “We may or may not have bairns and as far as I am concerned, it is God’s will, not ours.”

  Once again, he lowered his head, but brought it up sharply when she huffed. Obviously, he feared she’d slap him again.

  “If you need to groom a laird, then we can always prepare David for the position. He is like our son and will make you proud. Now, I expect you at the evening meal, husband. Do not be late.”

  When he pulled her against him and his mouth covered hers, she wanted to cry in relief. But instead, she kissed him back until both were breathless.

  “I expect you to finish this tonight,” she told him, her gaze locked on his lips. “Will you, husband?”

  His lips quivered. “Aye, wife, I will. I agree the boy will make me proud.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears as she headed back to the keep. Yes, she wanted children, but more than that, she needed Valent. Having him in her life fulfilled her completely.

  * * *

  Fiona McKenzie attempted to get comfortable. She rolled to her side and huffed. Expecting her third child, she wondered how to keep from having another. It was useless to think she’d keep from joining with her husband, the longer they were married, the more passionate their unions became. He was an ardent and prolific lover, which made it very difficult to keep from him.

  “Fiona?” His sleepy voice against her ear made her tingle with delight. “Can I join with you?”

  She pushed her bottom into him. “Yes.”

  It annoyed her they had to be so careful and although the midwife said not to, she never told Steaphan so. Not only did she join with her husband often during each pregnancy, somehow the experience was more alluring.

  His thick sex nudged at her entrance and holding her hips, he thrust in, filling her completely.

  “Ah,” both exclaimed in union as he began moving, his length sliding in and out of her in a smooth rhythm.

  “I cannot wait until you can do this harder,” Fiona told him reaching around to hold his hip. “Yet, it is so good like this.”

  His hand slipped around her to cup her sex and his finger delved through her folds to her center. Before long both were lost, his movements coupled with deft fingers brought her to cry out as he thrust in one last time spilling into her.

  Steaphan bit into her shoulder, the primal act bringing a mixture of pain and another climb from which to fall.

  “Good morning, husband.” Fiona made her way to the breakfast table.

  She couldn’t help but giggle at his devilish smile. “Yes, it is.”

  The nursemaid entered the room with their other two children in tow. Both dark-haired boys with their father’s gray eyes. At four and two, they were Steaphan’s pride and joy. He spent countless hours with them at swordplay with wooden toys he’d made for them.

  “Do you wish for another son?” she asked, her hand rubbing over her swollen stomach.

  “Aye, another son would be nice. But a daughter would make you happy.” He leaned over and lifted the youngest to his lap. “What say you, Ian? Would you like a brother or sister?”

  Fiona laughed when the boy shook his head. “No!”

  “Laird, a messenger arrives.” One of the guardsmen stood at the doorway. Fiona wanted to follow Steaphan; she was always interested in visitors. But knowing it was best to remain in the small room with the children, she could only look after her husband as he walked away. She couldn’t help but admire the strong man. He was not only beautiful to look upon, but his strength came across in his stance and demeanor as well. Both he and his identical twin, Valent, were strong, able men, but in her eyes, Steaphan was without equal.

  * * *

  Steaphan was not sure what to expect, but seeing his father-in-law’s tartan on the messenger, he hoped it wouldn’t be bad news. He motioned for the messenger to come forward. His master of the guard, Niven, had a questioning gaze, which met his for a moment.

  It was Niven who finally questioned the guard. “What brings you here, McLeod?”

  The young man seemed ill at ease and Steaphan couldn’t blame him, surrounded by McKenzie clansmen, with whom, up until recently, his clan had been at odds. “I bring word from my laird, your father-in-law. The Campbells have attacked the lands to the north. He thought you’d like to know it is possible we may require your help in the matter.”

  “Damn Campbells, always causing trouble are they not?” Steaphan nodded to a serving wench. “Sit, eat, and rest. I will send men back with you just in case assistance is required. If not, your laird can send them back to me.”

  The messenger reluctantly agreed and went to sit. Steaphan bowed his head in thought before speaking to Niven. “My brother is north of here. I should send word.”

  His friend’s clear green eyes met his. “I will go. I’ll take eight men with me. That will leave twenty here to protect the keep in case it is required.”

  “Very well. There is something that bothers me.” A tingle of apprehension went up his spine. “Keep the messenger here, I will return shortly.”

  “Aye.” Niven was pensive, but did not question him.

  Steaphan hurried to his bedchamber. Not finding Fiona there, he went to her sitting room. She looked up as he walked in. It never ceased to please him to see his beautiful wife with their children. Instead of diminishing, her beauty had blossomed with motherhood. He approached and kissed her brow. “Can you come with me for a moment?”

  After assuring the children she’d return shortly, he assisted his wife down the corridor toward the great room. “What is it, Steaphan?” Her worried gaze took him in. “What happens?”

  “Would you recognize all of your father’s messengers?”

  “Aye, I think so.”

  He pulled her closer as they reached the doorway. “Look there at the guard’s table. Do you know him?”

  She looked at him for a long momen
t before turning her attention to the great room. It didn’t take long for her to spot the messenger and her brows lowered. “He is not familiar to me.”

  “Interesting.” Steaphan shrugged to give her the illusion of nonchalance, but she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Did he say he came from my father’s clan?”

  Steaphan gave up the pretense. “Aye.”

  “If he said McLeod, he could be from Ariana’s clan. I would not recognize him then.”

  “No, he specifically said your father.”

  “Oh.” Fiona went to peek again, but he pulled her back. “Return to the sitting room and close the door. Do not allow the children out until I send someone there to let you know all is well.”

  He returned to the table, noticing the messenger watched him. It took all his acting ability to lift his tankard and drink from it, while looking to Niven with a light smile. “He is not from Fiona’s clan.”

  Following his lead, Niven chuckled. For all intents and purposes, they looked to be sharing a joke of some kind. The messenger returned his attention to the food before him.

  “What do you think?” Niven muttered under his breath while allowing a maid to refill his cup.

  “I think we will have an overnight guest. I also presume the leader of the guard will get any information we need by morning.” Steaphan laughed and slapped Niven on the shoulder when the messenger looked over at them. The young man’s eyes sliding around the room to the entrance.

  “Quite a bold plan,” Niven said. “Sending him into the lion’s den.”

  “Whoever they are, they willingly sacrifice the poor fool.”

  Steaphan let out a huff. “Whoever they are, the fools should know better than to plan an attack right now. They will freeze their balls off out there. A storm is brewing.”

  * * *

  “Who is he?” Steaphan asked as soon as Niven entered his study.