A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6)

by Hildie McQueen

  Once again, Flora returned her attention to Broden, seeing him through new eyes. Handsome, courageous and from a family in high esteem to her laird. Marrying him would prove not only advantageous to her in her current situation, but a man would be good for her son.

  “If he agrees, I am not against it.” Upon speaking the words, it was as if Broden sensed their attention because he turned to them. The piercing gaze went from Lady Fraser to her. Then to her utter dismay, it lowered down from her face, scanning her body as if assessing if she was worthy of his bed.

  Lady Fraser cleared her throat. “I will admit to him being a bit of a rake. But I do think once he settles...” She left the rest of the sentence unsaid. “Come, let us see about the day’s meals.”

  As they made their way to the back entrance of the keep, Flora turned to look over her right shoulder toward where the men continued to spar and met Broden’s gaze. His eyes narrowed for a moment before he gave a slight nod.

  Obviously, he suspected they had been talking about him. A warrior did not survive many battles without sharp senses.

  Flora caught up with Lady Fraser. “Have ye spoken to him about this?”

  The woman looked up to the sky. “Not yet. I wished to get yer reply first. Like I said, I am sure he will be a good husband to ye.”

  She didn’t have to think about it. Despite the fact that she had not consider remarrying, two years had passed since her husband’s death. “I am agreeable to a marriage between me and Broden McRainy.”

  The cook looked up when they entered. “Lady Fraser, I was about to send a lad to find ye. What do ye think of lamb?”

  As the women discussed the meal, Flora went to find her mother and son. The warm sun would be beneficial for them both.

  Her mother sat in a chair by the window of the room the three of them shared. Flora would not dare complain as it was quite kind of the laird and his wife to give them a place to live. Better a sturdy roof, warm food and safety, than remaining in the cottage with a leaky roof and having to figure how to procure their meals.

  “I came to fetch ye and Hamish. The day outside is beautiful. The sun will be good for ye.”

  Every day, her mother looked worse. Pale and drawn, she did not look like the same woman from just a month earlier. Flora could barely look at her without crying and, yet, she managed to smile. “Come, Mother, ye can sit while I finish my work in the garden.”

  “Of course, dear.” Her mother stood and wrapped a shawl around her narrow shoulders. Before she could try to lift Hamish, Flora took the toddler’s hand

  Together, they walked slowly outside.

  Her mother turned her face up to the sky. “I am so glad ye came for us. It is indeed a beautiful day. I will help ye.”

  “Ye can sit and watch after Hamish. The rascal has become quite adept at escaping.”

  “I can do both,” her mother insisted and, before long, they worked side-by-side. While Flora worried about her mother’s energy and how tiring the work would be, she also understood the need to feel useful and to make one’s way in repayment for kindness.

  “I am not so unwell that ye have to constantly keep watch over me.” Her mother gave her a stern look. “It was my stomach. It pained me to eat for days. Until this morn. I feel so much better. Eileen suggested to boil a mixture of boiled herbs. Today, I ate without pain.”

  The news made Flora smile. “I wish ye would have told me, Mother. Ye must continue to drink it.”

  “There is already much for ye to worry about without adding my aches and pains to yer list,” her mother replied with a soft smile.

  “Mother,” Flora began. “Ye never married after Father died. Why?”

  After a moment, her mother replied, “I had ye and yer sister to look after. Besides, my parents were always there to help and give us what we needed. I didn’t feel a need for it.” She looked at Flora for a long moment. “Is there someone ye wish to marry?”

  “Lady Fraser asked that I consider it. To one of the guardsmen.”

  “Ah.” The corners of the ill woman’s lips lifted. “Ye are not averse to it, I presume.”

  Her mother knew her well because, immediately, her cheeks heated, and she realize that it was true. Broden was handsome and his body was enticing. Not that she’d ever seen him bereft of clothing. But it was easy to imagine upon watching him in only a light tunic and breeches when sparring. The perspiration had caused his clothing to cling to every part of his powerful back, arms and legs.

  “If ye are to marry again, I would be very happy for ye.”

  Her heart swelled with love for the woman who’d stood by her through thick and thin. No matter if she married or not, Flora vowed to never be away from her mother. It was right that she take care of the woman who’d always been there for her.

  “I miss Catriona,” Flora said. “Since I’m not sure what my duties are since she left, I feel a bit adrift.”

  “Did Lady Fraser not say?”

  Flora shook her head. “Now that I think about it, I should have asked for what my responsibilities would be. She did comment on how my hard work has not gone unnoticed.”

  “That is good then.”

  ***

  After noticing Lady Fraser and the widow, Flora, speaking, Broden noted that the women studied him for a long time. Whatever was said, he would find out. Flora had been a companion to Catriona. Perhaps with Catriona gone, Lady Ross was trying to find her a new position. Yes, that had to be it. One of Catriona’s duties had been to keep the guard’s clothing mended. Perhaps it was to be Flora’s job now.

  The niggling feeling that something was afoot, however, did not abate. He scanned his surroundings, noting that the guards continued to spar. Those that were done, now stood talking while waiting for their breathing to slow.

  Actually, it was good timing if it was mending the women spoke about, as he’d noticed several tears in most of his tunics. The one he currently wore was practically a rag hanging from his shoulders.

  “Deep in thought about something?” Keithen approached and looked toward the house. “Hungry?”

  “Aye, very much so. It is still a long while until last meal.”

  Without having to discuss it, both knew that if they went to the kitchen, Eileen, the cook, would grumble but give them something to eat.

  “What is to happen to Flora, the widow?” he asked Keithen. “I saw yer mother with her earlier. They were watching us.”

  Keithen’s shoulder lifted and lowered. “I do not know. She will be kept on as we cannot very well turn away a widow and child.”

  “Child?”

  “Yes. Her mother and son live here with her. They have rooms in the servants’ quarters.” Keithen motioned with his head. “Ah, there, ye see? The boy is there with her in the garden now.”

  The child toddled about the plants, bending every once in a while to touch one and then yank another out of the ground. Flora and another woman, who he presumed was her mother, were deep in conversation and did not notice the devastation the child was causing away from their watchful eyes.

  When the boy let out a happy scream, the women turned. Both he and Keithen had to wait to see what the reactions would be.

  “Oh, no!” Flora cried out and hurried to the child. The boy let out a happy yell and did his best to get away.

  His mother caught up with him and lifted the boy into her arms. She peered at the boy’s dirty face and shook her head. “Ye should not pull plants. I know ye see me doing it, but I know which are good ones.”

  “I put back,” the boy pronounced, squirming while still holding plantings in his tiny fists. “Down.”

  She kissed his brow and placed the little boy on the ground. The child toddled to the area where he’d pulled the plants out and shoved both hands into the ground, doing his best to replace them.

  Clear laughter rang out as his mother watched over him. “Very good. I love ye so much.”

  Broden looked away and continued toward the kitchen. No matter how
long he searched his memories, he was sure he’d never had an experience like that with his own mother.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Catriona leaned on the back of the bedchamber door, her chest heaving from a mixture of anger and confusion. Why had Ewan kissed her? Worse yet, why had she responded?

  The man was not to be hers and despite being convinced she was strong enough to keep an emotional distance, it had all shattered at the touch of his lips to hers.

  With a huff, she paced the length of the room. She thought on the way he’d looked at her. Instead of warmth, there was only coldness in his gaze. It was obvious he no longer felt anything for her. If anything, the kiss was further proof of it.

  The only reason he’d kissed her had been to prove how easy it was for him to step away. The kiss had not affected him in the least.

  Her hands curled into fists as she turned and paced in the opposite direction. The gall of the man. How was it that he could turn emotions off so easily? Why did she, after months of fortification, crumble at the first touch?

  When someone knocked on the door, she stopped walking. “Come in,” she said in a weary voice. She took a breath and did her best to appear composed.

  “Ye will not guess what happened!” Esme stormed in. “It’s the most peculiar thing.”

  Catriona needed a distraction, so she went to her friend and pulled her to sit. “Tell me what has ye so anxious to share.”

  “Elspeth and Gisela were in the great room when Ewan happened upon them,” Esme began.

  Catriona sighed. Not exactly a distraction. However, curiosity got the best of her. “He approached them?”

  “I think so. As ye know, he is to be laird of the lands north of here. He walked up to them and casually asked that Elspeth assist him in finding a wife.”

  “A wife? He already has one.”

  “His marriage was dissolved prior to him leaving Uist. No one knows the reason. Whatever the cause, Ewan is not married. Broden’s information was wrong.”

  Her heart sank. She’d never given Ewan an opportunity to tell her the truth. After all he’d done for her, she’d doubted him instantly. Instead of approaching him and asking for clarification, she’d turned him away.

  “I am not sure what to think.”

  Esme’s eyes bored into hers. “Ye must speak to him. If he is to marry, ye were his first choice.”

  “I turned him down. Besides,” Catriona added, “it is obvious the man detests me now. Ye should see the way he looks at me. Pure disdain.”

  “He was hurt, and his pride wounded, but I am sure if there were feelings once, they remain still. Ewan is not indifferent to ye.”

  Considering her lack of skills and general nervousness, Catriona doubted there was any way she could ever pursue a man effectively. “I will not interfere in his quest for a bride. I had the opportunity and lost it. If anything, he deserves a woman who will never doubt him.”

  Esme frowned, her gaze sliding to the side. “He did ask for something very specific.”

  “Such as?”

  “A meek woman who would not question him.”

  Despite the pang in her chest, Catriona could not help but laugh. “Ha! He would grow bored in a day. Why would he wish for a woman with no spirit or opinion?”

  A thought occurred to her. “Do ye think me meek?”

  This time, it was Esme who laughed. “Not even when ye were recovering. Ye have always been headstrong and stubborn.”

  “True, I can be.”

  Her friend studied her. “Ye are the best adviser. I was very fortunate to have had ye as my friend to keep me from doing the wrong things. It could be that ye should consider what is happening. What would ye say to yerself, if ye were not ye?”

  “Somehow that made sense,” Catriona said with a sad smile. “I would tell myself to allow Ewan his freedom. He should marry whoever he wishes, whether a wilted weak woman or otherwise.”

  “Bah!” Esme exclaimed. “Ye should pursue him. Tell him that it was all a misunderstanding. Perhaps, do not disclose it was Broden who told ye, because it will seem ye took another man’s word...”

  “That is exactly what I did,” Catriona said. “I need time to think. Even if it is to help find a good wife for him. I owe Ewan that much. He should not marry a simpering dull person, but someone who will be a proper laird’s wife.”

  When Esme’s brows lowered and her eyes narrowed, Catriona reached for her hand. “Whatever ye are planning, do not do it. Ye are impulsive and never have good ideas when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  “It could be,” Esme started, “that Malcolm is already considering who Ewan should marry. With him being laird, he must make a good match in order to form alliances with the neighboring lairds.”

  Catriona had not considered that. It was true. If anything, with his new lairdship there was the added benefit to Clan Ross of another strong alliance. Her heart sunk. Of course, it mattered not what Ewan wished for or even her for that matter. Nothing was ever easy when it came to clan life.

  “I have mending to do,” Catriona said, standing.

  Esme studied her. “I would never take ye for someone who would give up on love so easily. My goodness, ye carried on after Keithen for years. And now that ye finally meet the perfect man, ye are giving up so easily?”

  “He is to go to Uist. He may return with a wife,” Catriona replied. “This trip of his gives me time to consider things. Right now, I am hurt and feel foolish for what I did.”

  Patience was not Esme’s strongest attribute, so Catriona met her friend’s gaze. “Esme. Give me the time.”

  “Oh, very well. But allow me to say this. If ye were to speak to Ewan alone before he leaves, it will give him fodder for thoughts while he travels.”

  Catriona decided it was best to heed her friend’s advice. After all, what could it hurt to apologize to Ewan. If nothing else, he did deserve that much. Whether he no longer cared for her or not, it was the proper thing to do.

  It was foolish to do so, of course, but just before dawn, Catriona went to Ewan’s bedchamber and knocked softly.

  Just as she was about to knock a second time, the door open and a disheveled Ewan stood in the opening. He blinked several times, until recognition was followed by the hardening of his face. “What in God’s name do ye want?”

  “I wish to speak to ye before ye leave.” Catriona did not wait to be invited in, but pushed past him.

  Upon turning, she noticed he only wore a long-sleeved tunic and no breeches. Immediately, she looked up from his bare legs. “I must tell ye something. I just ask for a moment of yer time.”

  Ewan crossed his arms and gave her a bored look, followed by a wide yawn. “I cannot imagine anything ye can say that is worth my loss of sleep. I have a long journey ahead of me.”

  There was a flicker of something akin to regret for the words he’d spoken, immediately followed by him looking away. “Go on.”

  There was no need to prolong the moment. It was best to say what she had to say. “I am so very sorry to have doubted ye. I was wrong to not explain to ye my reasoning for turning down yer offer of marriage. Ye were a good friend to me. Ye were there when I needed someone to lean upon. I hope that one day ye will find it in yer heart to forgive me.”

  He closed the distance between them until she felt the warmth of his large body. “What brings this on, Catriona? That I am laird now? That ye gave up the opportunity to marry a man of standing?”

  At the words, she took a step back. “How dare ye?” Fury like she’d not felt in a very long time flickered deep in her gut. Why had he changed so much? Did he actually hate her now?

  “I can think of no other reason for this sudden change of heart. Ye had plenty of time to write, to send a message to me. I was in the northern post for many months.”

  “I didn’t know the truth.”

  “I’d hope ye gone when I returned,” Ewan retorted.

  It was Catriona that closed the distance this time. “Why? Becaus
e ye still have feelings for me? Because yer pride was hurt? Ye knew very well that I would not immediately accept a proposal. I needed time to make the right decision.”

  “Ye told me ye were to marry Broden.”

  She’d forgotten about that. It had been an impulsive statement. In actuality, when Broden had announced he was to return to Fraser lands, Catriona had made it clear there would be nothing between them. Her heart was broken. She wanted time to forget Ewan.

  “Someone told me ye were married. That is why I said no.”

  “Who?” His mouth formed a tight line as he waited. He didn’t seem to believe a word she said.

  Catriona thought for a moment. She didn’t want to say it was Broden. That would only make things worse. “A guard. Someone who’d been with ye at Fraser Keep. Ye told him, or a group of them when ye were drinking. I do not know who all overheard.”

  Turning his head, he looked toward the bed. When he faced her again, all he did was give a slight nod. “Very well, Catriona. I will accept yer apologies. Please go.”

  “One last thing,” she added. “I care for ye a great deal and am hopeful that one day we can be friends again.” Catriona placed her hand on his forearm. “Safe travels.”

  His gaze fell to where her hand was, but he remained still.

  Catriona hurried from the room as tears threatened. Ewan would never be her friend again. By his body language and expression, he wished to put everything that had to do with her behind him.

  At least she’d taken the opportunity to say what had to be said.

  Upon returning to laird over his own lands, she would rarely see him. It was best she resign herself to being Esme’s companion. To live the simple life of servitude. It would be easy and best to keep away from thoughts of marriage. At least for the foreseeable future.

  People beginning to mill about in the great room made Catriona pause. No one looked in her direction, yet she hoped not to be seen leaving from the direction of guards’ bedchambers. She turned way and hurried toward the kitchen.

  For some reason, every member of the laird’s family seemed to find themselves in the kitchen speaking with the head cook, Moira, who handed out warm porridge, advice and encouragement in equal measures.