A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) Read online

  “Aye.” Upon her response, his arms circled her, and Catriona let out along breath at her lack of an adverse reaction.

  Moments later, the sounds of children and a loud shrill wail made Catriona flinch.

  “Stay here. Don’t ye dare come inside, ye hear me?” Audra screamed. Then she walked in with a bairn on her hip and another two attached to her skirts.

  “Dear sister, I am so happy to see...” Audra stopped talking and looked down to the silent children grasping her clothes. “I’m...sorry, I didn’t mean to bring these two inside.”

  “It’s fine,” Catriona said, nearing and taking the babe from her sister. “Finally, a girl.”

  Audra sighed and went to the table. She peeled one of the two boys from her clothes and placed him in a chair. The one remaining at her side clutched her leg. She tugged him off, but he managed to reattach himself. Finally, she gave up and blew out a breath. “Ye feel better then?”

  “A bit,” Catriona admitted as she swayed with the babe in her arms. “I am striving to move forward as much as I can. Although, at times, I am still very fearful.”

  Her parents exchanged worried glances. Her mother began pouring drinks into cups and placed them in front of each of them.

  The awkward silence made Catriona realize her family wanted more answers that she wasn’t prepared to give. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t sure what the future held.

  “I plan to remain at the keep for now. I am helping with mending and such for the additional guards who came from Clan Ross. Also, it helps to be with Lady Fraser.”

  “What of yer life outside remaining cloistered?” Audra began, but then stopped. “Forgive me, I have no right to ask.”

  “Ye have every right,” Catriona replied, reaching out to clutch her sister’s hand. “I wish I knew the answer. I am not sure it is possible for me to ever have a normal life again. Although I do wish it, I just can’t.”

  Her mother sighed. “Ye need time. I believe ye will get through this. Ye are very brave to have come here today.”

  The rest of the day went quickly. There was only one time that Catriona became anxious. Someone knocked on the door, a man calling out that children had let his chickens out. The irate man demanded Audra control the boys. Both her mother and Audra rushed out to call the boys, who ran in circles, scaring the birds away instead of helping to collect them.

  Catriona watched from the window as her mother and sister managed to find the birds. While she was distracted, the toddlers left behind had come up to her and were now clutching her skirts. One was sucking his thumb and the other was staring up at her.

  After promising to find ways to see each other more often, Audra and her brood left. Her mother let out a breath and leaned back in a chair. “Audra needs help. Perhaps she should hire an older, stricter governess for the boys. They need a firm hand.”

  Despite feeling overly tired and ready to leave, Catriona helped her mother clean and prepare supper. Just as she sat down to rest, Lady Fraser arrived.

  Her mother and Lady Fraser exchanged pleasantries. It was obvious by their conversation, they saw each other often. Apparently, every time Lady Fraser came to the village, she stopped by for a visit.

  “I will come to visit ye in a few days,” her mother said as they hugged goodbye a little while later. “I will bring back some of the mending to do here. There are far too many guardsmen for ye to be the only one doing the task.”

  “One of the maids also helps, but we could certainly use another pair of hands,” Catriona assured her. “I look forward to yer visit, Mother.”

  As soon as they arrived back at the keep, Catriona immediately sought the refuge of her bedchamber. When asked, she refused an invitation by Lady Fraser and Ava Fraser, Keithen’s wife, to come to the sitting room. She preferred the quiet and stillness of her own private space.

  It had been a huge undertaking to leave the keep after over a year. Despite the joy of seeing her family and doing her best to pay attention to their conversation, it had been tiring pretending to be well.

  The longer she remained in the prison of her own making, the more power she gave to the animals who’d attacked her. And yet, the night terrors and the flashes of the horrible days in captivity remained clear and present.

  Letting out an annoyed groan, she tore her clothing off with shaky fingers. Then placing one foot in front of the other, she slowly approached the tall mirror. Her entire body shook when she reached for the cloth draped over it, and before she could change her mind, Catriona tore it away.

  At first, all she looked at was her face. She noted that the hairstyle she wore, a braid wrapped around her head, was not particularly flattering. Forcing her gaze to travel down, she noted the first mark that had not been there before. Puckered skin at the base of the right side of her neck. A bite? Or perhaps fingernails had dug into her skin there. How could she remember every single time she’d been hurt?

  Moving away from the mark, she looked to her chest next. Had her skin always been so pale? No, she and Esme had often laid out next to the creek and sunned themselves. Sometimes, they’d removed all their clothing, except for their shifts to allow the sunshine to kiss their bare skin.

  On her left breast was another mark. This one was clearly a bite mark. Catriona’s breath caught and she looked away, attempting to calm the sudden lack of air. If she was to become stronger and push it all to the past, then every single mark would be seen. Once that was completed, she would be able to forge forward.

  She remembered exactly what happened when looking at the third mark. This one was a healed cut that ran from just under her right breast to the side. One of the guardsmen had cut her with the tip of his dirk when she’d kicked him.

  Neither their faces nor their voices did she attempt to recall because they did not deserve any space in her mind. Then turning away from the mirror, she looked over her shoulder. Remarkably, there wasn’t any other scarring.

  Once again, Catriona faced the mirror and scanned herself. The only other scar was on her left knee. Her lips curved at noting the jagged old scar that her mother had sewn together after she’d fallen out of a tree at ten years old.

  Keithen had chased her and Esme with a dead rat.

  He’d gotten a proper spanking for it, much to her and Esme’s delight. When he’d walked past them rubbing his bottom, they’d followed after him, taunting him until he’d ran and hid.

  Once again, Catriona looked back up, meeting her own gaze for a long moment. In her mind, she had conjured up a badly scarred and disfigured body. In reality, the worst of it was inside. Those scars would remain for a long time.

  Just as she pulled on a soft dressing gown, Flora, her companion, entered. In truth, Catriona felt it was silly of Esme to have hired someone to care for her needs. She was, after all, just a simple village girl. However, because of her close friendship with the laird’s son and daughter, she’d always been considered family.

  As grateful as she was for Flora, as of late there was little she needed the woman to do. Since recovering from her injuries and debilitating fear that had plagued her the weeks after her release, Catriona was able to do well for herself.

  But she would not send the woman away. Flora’s husband had been killed by the Mackenzies and the woman needed to work in order to support her child and mother.

  At first, Flora had remained at the keep, living there while her mother and infant son remained in the village. Now, she’d moved back to her home in the village and only came to stay at the keep during the day.

  “Are ye about to bathe?” Flora asked at noticing her clothing strewn about the floor.

  The woman began collecting the clothing and Catriona allowed it, knowing Flora needed something to do. “Yes, but then I realized I’d not asked for heated water and the tub to be brought.”

  Flora shook her head and smiled. “I will see to it.”

  “Thank ye,” Catriona replied as Flora hurried out, her strides sure and
purposeful.

  Once alone, Catriona went to her sewing basket and pulled out a torn tunic. Immediately, her mind went to the owner, Ewan Ross, who was currently recovering from a horrible injury.

  She let out a sigh recalling the handsome face. One day, after noting that most of the tunics he wore had tears or had unraveled at the sleeves, she’d surprised him and herself by insisting on mending the clothing. He’d readily agreed. He was thankful, he’d said, not to have to worry about his arms going out the wrong holes.

  Catriona was not about to fool herself into lying and saying that she mended his garments out of pity. The truth was that she found Ewan Ross to be the most alluring man she’d ever set eyes upon.

  Since she was very young, she’d convinced herself that she was in love with Keithen. Even now, she found him very attractive and she loved him. But the love she felt for Keithen Fraser was a sisterly one. She could finally admit it. Now that Keithen was happily married, Catriona was glad for him.

  As far as Ewan Ross was concerned, what she felt for him was so very different. The attraction to him was almost primal. Every part of her came to life at his presence. It was as if her body recognized his and demanded nearness.

  The thought of intimacy paralyzed her with fear. No matter how much her body demanded his touch, it saddened her to know nothing would ever come to be between them.

  Chapter Three

  Despite glares from the healer, Ewan made it a point to attend last meal. If he could walk, there was no reason to remain cloistered in his room. If he was to leave Clan Fraser as soon as he was able to ride, then he needed to make the most of his time while there at the keep.

  A maid hurried to him, placing a trencher in front of him along with a tankard filled with ale. He drank greedily, realizing he was more thirsty than hungry.

  The meal was simple that day, lamb in juices with a few root vegetables. The freshly baked bread, however, melted any resolve to not eat much, as it begged to be slathered with freshly churned butter.

  “Do ye require anything else?” The serving lass leaned forward, allowing him a perfect view of her ample bosom. She was pleasant to look upon, with bright red hair and a button nose. Her gaze locked on to his lips and hers curved at noting she’d gotten Ewan’s attention.

  “Thank ye, nothing else at the moment.” He’d not necessarily turned her down and, yet, he wasn’t sure any kind of intimacy would be prudent in his current injured state. If Ewan was to be honest, as much as he enjoyed bedsport, in the last weeks, he’d not taken any offers from willing lasses.

  Movement caught his attention and he looked across the room. Catriona watched him, her brows lowered and lips pursed. Was it possible that the beauty was bothered that he’d been approached by another woman? As much as he hoped so, Ewan doubted she cared one way or the other. In his dreams, she would be irritated enough to confront him, only for them to end up kissing and tangled in bed.

  With a soft chuckle, he lifted his cup in her direction with a slight bow of his head. Her eyes widened and she quickly looked away.

  “Whose attention are ye seeking?” Keithen lowered to sit across from him, blocking his view of Catriona.

  Ewan chuckled. “Someone who barely pays me any heed.”

  “Seems the way it is, Friend. Women are complex creatures.”

  The lamb was good and Ewan ate his fill. Noting it was only he and Keithen at that end of the table gave him freedom to speak. “I remembered something, and it is not pleasant. I know who attacked me and why.”

  Keithen looked around and spoke in a low tone. “Who?”

  “Not here. It’s best I am not overheard.”

  “Very well,” Keithen said and then changed the subject. “Have ye decided where ye’re going to go from here?”

  Ewan nodded. “I will return north to my cousin’s lands. There is much to do there to keep me busy.”

  “What of Uist? Will yer father not insist ye return?” Keithen asked.

  When his face hardened, Keithen gave him a quizzical look.

  Ewan pretended his injury caused discomfort and thus the grimace. He touched his midsection gingerly and then blew a breath out.

  “I am the fourth born son, there is nothing for me to do there other than guard. There haven’t been any threats against our clan in the entirety of my father’s life. My father agreed with my departure.”

  “What about the Norse? Have they never threatened?” Keithen was curious about the state of affairs in other regions. Ewan understood.

  “We are on friendly terms with the ones that do come to Uist. Some have come to meet with my father to propose trades and such. There is actually a small village of Norse on the northernmost portion of the Isle.”

  “Interesting,” Keithen said. “I can see why ye wished to leave. Boredom is not good for someone born to be a warrior. I will remind ye that for many years, my clan also had peace. Never forget that things can change from one day to the next.”

  Ewan grinned at his friend. “And now ye find yerself married to the enemy’s beautiful daughter.”

  “Aye, and very glad for it,” Keithen said as he looked to the head table where his wife, Ava, sat.

  Later that evening, Ewan joined Keithen and Broden in the laird’s study. Although Laird Fraser remained distant toward him, the man was anxious to hear what Ewan had to say.

  He let out a breath. “The man who attacked me was one of the Mackenzie’s guards. He stated that he wished me dead because he believed I killed the Mackenzie.”

  Everyone exchanged looks at his statement.

  “Aye, I did it,” Ewan stated. “Ye are aware.”

  “So ye finally admit to doing it?” Laird Fraser asked. “We all did suspect.”

  Ewan wanted to groan at his actions on the day of the tournament. He looked to Keithen. “Yer wife knows then?”

  “She’s not come out and said it, but I think she suspects.”

  The laird motioned for him to continue. “What was the guard doing there?”

  “Skulking about. I believe because it was he and whoever was with him that attacked the farmer’s family.”

  “To what end?” Broden asked, frowning. “They have little to gain from a battle against us. If anything, they have more to lose.”

  Everyone went quiet considering the reasoning.

  Finally, Ewan decided to give his opinion. “It could be whoever is responsible, be it the Mackenzie or not, hoped ye would blame another clan, perhaps a smaller one and begin warring with one another.”

  “There have been similar attacks to both of them. That is enough of a reason for them to retaliate, thinking it was us who are responsible,” Laird Fraser noted. “And yet, that the Mackenzie guard was about does not mean it was them who are responsible.”

  “As much as I would like to blame them, I have to agree with father,” Keithen added.

  “How can we ever find proof?” Broden asked.

  An idea struck and Ewan straightened. “Meet with the other lairds. Perhaps it will be easier to find the truth if ye work together.”

  Laird Fraser looked at him and nodded. “I believe I will.”

  Messengers were dispatched and Ewan left the laird’s study needing to rest.

  His midsection ached, the discomfort growing with each step he took. Holding his arm over his stomach, Ewan walked through the great room toward where his room was.

  “Do ye require help getting to bed?” The maid from earlier appeared from the direction of the kitchen.

  Ewan could barely stand up straight. The idea of any kind of lovemaking made him cringe. “Although it’s a tempting offer, I must refrain.”

  He turned away, but the woman was persistent, her hand on his arm. “Ye do not have to do anything,” she purred, a curve to her lips.

  “He said no.” Catriona appeared at the end of the corridor. “Go see about yer tasks,” she snapped and glared at the maid, who’s eyes widened and cheeks flushed with consternation. “Yes, Miss.”

&nbs
p; As the maid scurried away, Catriona frowned up at Ewan. “Ye must learn to be firmer. If ye are not interested, make it clear.”

  “Thank ye for coming to my rescue,” Ewan said. “Do ye know if the healer is about?”

  Immediately, she pinned him with a direct look. “If ye are hurting, it is because ye have not remained abed as the healer insisted. Come, I will help ye to lay down and then see about fetching the healer.”

  Catriona walked with him into his bedroom, and Ewan almost chuckled at the thought that he’d turned down one lass, and now another, much lovelier and not at all with any intentions in mind, walked beside him.

  “Give me a moment,” Ewan said, standing next to the bed. “I have to prepare myself to lower to it.” It would not do to embarrass himself by crying out in pain when lowering to the bed.

  “I’ll help.” Catriona neared and untied the strings at his throat. Then she helped him remove the tunic. It was painstakingly slow, and he had to keep blowing out breaths, his midsection sending streaks of pain up and down his torso.

  If not for reeling from the aching, he would have enjoyed her proximity and the act of removing his clothing.

  “I think I need to...sit,” Ewan stuttered, barely able to get his breath.

  “Ah!” he exclaimed when Catriona lifted his left arm and pulled the tunic off. “Ye should have stayed in bed and not put on a tunic. What exactly are ye trying to prove?”

  Now he felt like a lad being lectured by his mother. Things could not get any worse. If it continued, she’d never be attracted to him as a man. Ewan glared up at her. “I need the healer to make me a poultice, as well as some of that vile tonic to take away the pain.”

  “What ye need is...” Catriona stopped talking when he fell sideways onto the bed. “Are ye about to pass out?”

  He opened his eyes and gave her a droll look. “I’m trying to lie down.”

  “Oh,” she frowned down at him. “I am not sure how to help.”

  “I hate to ask,” Ewan began, “but can ye remove my boots?”

  Catriona made quick time of removing his boots and then, slowly, they managed to slide him up until his head was on the pillow.