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

According to Esme, he had been overly preoccupied with all the preparations of having to take over new responsibilities. And in truth, he seemed to spend every waking hour with Malcolm, either in the laird’s study or with the guards. When not with the laird, he’d been gone to Tuath Avon for days on end.

She let out a breath studying herself in the mirror. The woman who stared back was pale, but not unattractive. Someone had added a pinch of color to her lips and cheeks, which Catriona had to admit was quite flattering. She wore a pale green dress, her favorite color. It had been made for her by a local seamstress who was extremely talented by the way the gown fell so perfectly, enhancing each curve of her body.

The long sleeves fell just past her elbows before falling in a cascade of fabric, hanging beautifully from her arms.

A veil was placed on the crown of her head and allowed to fall down her back. Catriona wasn’t sure why they’d gone to such lengths to ensure her hair was pinned just right when the veil would cover their creation.

“It is time,” Elspeth, Lady Ross, announced.

The chapel smelled of fresh flowers, all sorts. Usually, one kind was chosen for a wedding. But in her case, it was like a field of wildflowers, bouquets of different colors hanging from the end of each pew.

Her lips curved at seeing the familiar faces turn to her with expectation. Then upon meeting Ewan’s frosty gaze, Catriona only felt one strong emotion.

An unwavering urge to flee.

He did not plan to love her, quite the contrary. It was as she’d inwardly known all along. The reason Ewan Ross was marrying her was because he would never love her and, for him, it was exactly what he wished for in a wife. Someone to control, keep in hand and who would bear him children. A perfect partner, but nothing more.

Catriona’s footsteps faltered and her father looked to her, a questioning look, but said nothing. They continued forward, her legs heavy now, as if she dragged an anvil from each ankle.

Knowing it would be impossible to keep from either crying or glaring at Ewan, Catriona did not meet his gaze. Instead, she kept her eyes downcast, raising them only when the priest asked that she repeat the vows and, even then, she kept them on the clergyman.

By contrast, Ewan kept his gaze on her face. She could feel it. His voice was clear and without any hesitation as he recited the words.

They were pronounced husband and wife and the kiss was as chaste as one between a brother and sister. Or of strangers mistakenly kissing on the lips when meaning to kiss each other’s cheek. A lump caught in her throat until she thought she’d choke from it.

“Breathe,” Ewan whispered into her ear. “Relax. It is over.”

“On the contrary, my laird,” she murmured back, finally meeting his gaze. “The farce has just only just begun.”

His eyes widened, but he did not say anything in return. After all, what could he say? Deny the truth that he’d tricked her into marrying him by playing on her guilt over hurting him?

What a fool she was to think he was the same person who’d been so kind to her. Ewan Ross had changed. Perhaps from his time at the northern post or because of his trip back to Uist. Or even, a combination of both. Whatever it was had turned him into a stranger, someone she could not claim to know.

“This is the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to,” her mother exclaimed, her face bright and eyes shining with unshed tear. “Ye look so very beautiful. Like an angel.”

“A bit pale,” her sister interceded, studying her closely. “Is yer bodice too tight?”

“I think it is,” Catriona said, happy for an excuse not to cause her sister or mother to worry about her. “Perhaps we can steal away to a private room and ye can loosen it a bit.”

Her mother smiled indulgently. “I think ye can withstand it another few moments. It will be suspicious for the bride to disappear so soon after the vows have been spoken.”

“Well look at ye,” Catriona teased. “So well versed on etiquette.”

“I have asked Lady Fraser for counsel,” her mother replied with a light blush. “The entire way here, she told me all about the duties ye will be expected to perform. I plan to ensure that ye spend as much time with her while we are here so that ye can be prepared.”

Catriona hadn’t considered it. In truth, she had little idea of what would be expected of her. Now that she thought about it, both Lady Fraser and Lady Ross barely seemed to have time to themselves as the duties of running a keep were many.

Thankfully, she’d have that. She would have the distraction of running a household to keep her busy and from having to spend time with a husband who she did not respect.

“I would be eternally grateful for that, Mother,” Catriona said, meaning it. “I am so very glad ye bring it up, as I’d not given my future duties much thought.”

Together, they walked into the great room where Ewan, surrounded by his cousins, seemed to be enjoying themselves with rousing toasts and loud laughter.

“Men are so basic in their actions,” Esme said, rolling her eyes. “I can only wonder how they would ever get on without women to guide them in daily necessities.”

The other women laughed. Catriona could only stare at her new husband, who seemed to have already forgotten her existence.

“Should he not be sitting here with me?” she whispered to Esme. “Should we not be toasted as a couple?”

Esme’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“What do ye mean?” Catriona regretted her