A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) by Hildie McQueen (best story books to read .TXT) 📗

she said when her friend lingered at the table after the other left. “What exactly should I occupy myself with. At Fraser Keep, I mended for the guards. Do ye think there is a need for it here?”

“There is much need for many things here,” Esme replied, blowing out a breath. “There are many men that require help with such things and also the making of tunics. We also weave blankets.”

Catriona could not help but laugh. “Ye, weaving. I do not believe it.” Her friend had always been averse to household duties. Esme had always preferred instead to practice archery or other such things.

“Aye, I have taken on some things. I learned to weave a basket,” Esme said, motioning to a lopsided pitiful attempt in the center of the table.

After a moment of studying it, Catriona gave up on trying to come up with a compliment. “I see marriage can change even the wildlings.”

“I am still part wildling, I’ll have ye know,” Esme rebutted with a saucy grin.

Catriona pushed away from the table. “Come show me where I can get clothing to mend and let us begin with the handsome men.”

Esme’s eyes rounded. “Cat. Ye are back.”

“What are ye speaking about?” Catriona shook her head at the same time she realized that for the first time in a long time, she’d not sat with her back to a wall and she’d just asked to go where the guards were. “I suppose I am.”

Her friend slid her arm through hers. “We will watch the men’s early sword practice for a bit. There are a few that are worthy of study.

“What of the mending?” Catriona protested.

“I will send a lad to fetch the clothing.”

***

Days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Catriona remained at Dun Airgid, unable to leave Esme again. Despite missing her parents and Fraser lands, she was becoming accustomed to life at Dun Airgid. With its huge walls and enormous army, it was, in her opinion, the safest region in Scotland.

The women of Ross Keep were all her friends now. Often, they embarked on adventures that ranged from picking flowers to archery contests. More often than not, the husbands would accompany them. But thankfully, because the men rotated in and out of the northern post, there was always a woman for Catriona to pair off with.

This day, it was only the women that went berry picking. Guards stood a distance away, not at all disguising their boredom as the women plucked ripe fruit and dropped it into baskets that hung from their arms.

Esme plopped one into her mouth. “These will make delicious tarts,” she proclaimed. “If I can keep from eating them.”

“Yer stomach will ache if ye eat too many,” Elspeth warned as she rocked side to side, a bairn strapped to her chest. “Believe me, I know.”

They continued until their baskets were becoming heavy. Finally, Merida announced that she was too tired to continue.

A blanket was spread on the newly grown green grass and they sat to rest. A servant brought them bread, cheese and wineskins.

The sun was warm on her back and Catriona took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.

“It is a beautiful day. I could spend more like this out here.”

“I agree,” Esme replied.

One of the guards who watched over them came close. “My lady, there is a party moving past.”

They watched as the other guard rode just a bit farther and kept vigil.

“Someone probably comes to visit. They bring a contingent of men,” Elspeth said with a groan. “I forget who is supposed to visit now.”

“It may be my parents,” Merida said, standing and straining. “If they do not come today, it will be in the next two.”

As the women continued to keep vigil, Catriona sipped on wine and nibbled at bits of cheese. No one was coming to see about her.

“It is my parents,” Merida said with a bright smile.

“Hmmm,” Elspeth replied. “We will wait for them to pass by and then make our way back to the keep.”

The carriage and escort were a distance away. From what Catriona spied, Merida’s parents, the McLeods, traveled with about thirty or forty guards.

“Ah, some of the Ross men return as well,” someone said. The comment made Catriona’s breath hitch. She looked to the traveling group but, from the distance, she could not make out who was who.

However, a horse got her attention. Its peculiar prance and beautiful coloring was different than the others. The silver animal shook its large head, the mane waving like shiny streamers in the wind.

Ewan Ross was back.

Chapter Thirteen

“Yer father is dead.”

The words floated in the air until finally landing over him and Ewan breathed them in. They weren’t exactly a blow, but more like a powerful gust of wind that filled his lungs.

His mind went elsewhere, not hearing whatever else was said in the room.

“Ye should leave,” Una, his wife, once again sent him from her bedchamber. She lay upon the bed and had pulled the bedding over herself, covering her nudity from him. It was not the first time he’d practically had to force her to make love to him. And like many other times, she’d laid under him like a corpse. This time, however, he could not bring himself to take her unwilling body.

“Will ye not even look me in the eyes?” Ewan shouted. “Ye have been with another. Ye smell of him.”

Una crossed her arms, her gaze slowly lifting to his. “Our marriage was an agreement between our fathers. There is no need to pretend it is more than that. I refuse to. Ye are gone for weeks. Am I to remain true to a man I barely know?”

“Ye have not even tried...”

Una got up from the bed and yanked on a robe.