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

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