A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6)

by Hildie McQueen

  By the time the first trays were being taken by a group of serving maids, Catriona sat at the long kitchen table placing loafs of bread and blocks of cheese onto large platters.

  Unlike Clan Fraser, where small groups were entertained perhaps every fortnight, Ross Keep seemed to entertain nonstop.

  “Who is this feast for?” Catriona asked Moira, who waved the next group of tray-carrying maids off.

  Moira gave her a puzzled look. “For the men returning from battle, of course.”

  “Yes, of course,” Catriona replied, attempting to force a smile. “How silly of me to ask.”

  The activity continued for hours until Catriona could barely stand upright. How Moira and her helpers could continue on, seeming not to tire, was a testament to their tenacity.

  “I will go rest now,” Catriona announced to the kitchen at large. One maid waved her off with a bright smile.

  “Thank ye for helping.”

  Once in her room, she lowered to a chair. Ewan had volunteered to stay away. It was a relief not to have to bump into him daily. At the same time, it was hurtful that he was not at all the man she’d believed him to be. A married man with a bairn should be home, helping to raise the child, not galivanting about the country in battles and courting women.

  How could she have misread him so much?

  The next morning, her eyes felt as if someone had thrown sand in them. She’d barely slept a wink, vacillating between worrying for Ewan and being angry at him.

  Finally, she decided there was little to be done about it. For one thing, Lady Fraser and the guard contingent, including Broden, had left. Secondly, she had nowhere to go, and therefore had to forge ahead until the opportunity to return to Fraser lands presented itself.

  Upon entering the great room, once again, she was amazed at the amount of people present. If ever there was a place for her to face her fears, it was Dun Airgid. Catriona weaved through tables until reaching the one where Esme and her husband, Ruari, sat. With them was an older couple and a woman. They motioned for her to sit and Esme introduced her to the others.

  The meal was simple, but plentiful. Soon, Catriona faced what would be another day.

  “Esme,” 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. When Ewan reached for her, she whirled away. “I do not wish to be yer wife.” This time, her voice was low, sullen. “Please go.
”

  “I have told ye many times that I love ye, Una. I will do whatever it takes to ensure ye are happy.”

  “Then leave now. Go to wherever it was ye went for so many weeks.”

  “If I go, I will never return.”

  Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “If only that were true.”

  He stormed to the front of the great room to stand in front of his father. The man looked up at him with a frown. Despite how much he tried, as of late, it was as if his father resented each breath Ewan took.

  “I demand my marriage be dissolved.” Ewan stalked across the room. “As soon as possible.”

  “Dissolve the marriage?” His father glowered. “I will not allow it. There are many marriages between two people who do not care for one another. Find a mistress. Distract yerself with other pursuits.”

  Ewan leaned forward, not wishing to air his problems before those present in the great hall. “I do not wish to continue to be tied to a woman who detests me. What would make ye happy, that she try to kill me?”

  “Again?” Darach, his older half-brother, added with a hard stare to their father. “I am not convinced it was not she who made my brother so ill in the spring. It was poisoning, the healer attested.”

  “It must be done, Father,” Duncan, his brother, insisted.

  Ewan looked directly at his father, his jaw tight. “I wish her gone from here.”

  By the lowering of his shoulders, it was apparent his father was about to relent. “Very well. I will allow the dissolution of the marriage, but Una must remain here. We cannot insult her clan by returning the lass.”

  He and his brothers exchanged confused looks but remained silent.

  It was strange that his father, a man who should take his and his brothers’ side over someone of another clan, would not in this case. However, Ewan cared little about it. If anyone would know about a marriage of convenience, it was his parents.

  They rarely shared more than a meal together and, even then, did not speak to one another. Of course, there was a strong reason for it. His mother hated his father.

  He went to his mother’s sitting room, finding her sitting with her companion. The women shared some secret because they laughed and then quieted upon seeing him. He couldn’t help but smile, loving that his mother was in so much better spirits. For a long time, she’d been sullen and withdrawn. Slowly, she’d emerged from the shadows and was almost the woman he remembered from boyhood.

  “Come sit, darling.” Lady Ross patted the seat next to her. “What brings ye to visit me so late?”

  Her companion stood and went to sit on the opposite side of the room. It mattered not if she overheard as Ewan suspected whatever anyone said to his mother would always be repeated to the woman, as Lady Ross shared everything with her.

  “I asked Father to dissolve my marriage to Una. He finally agreed.”

  Lady Ross frowned. “I am glad. Ye should have never married her. But there are consequences...will she be sent back to her clan? It will be an insult.”

  “Father said she must remain.”

  His mother looked to her companion. “In what capacity?” his mother asked, searching his face. “I suppose she can remarry. However, it will be most strange that she continues to live here.”

  Ewan nodded. “I agree and do not wish for her to remain. However, I am willing to accept anything as long as she is no longer my wife.”

  “I am sorry to interfere,” his mother’s companion said. “Dear, yer wife is with child. Did she not tell ye?” She looked to his mother. “I am sorry, but he must be told.”

  His mother nodded and sighed. “I planned to wait and see if she would inform ye first.”

  “Who is the father?”

  “That, I cannot tell ye,” Lady Ross replied. By her expression, it was obvious she had suspicions.

  “Ewan, do sit.” Malcolm pressed a glass of whisky into his hand. “I am sorry.”

  “For?” He looked about the room as his cousins exchanged looks of confusion. “Ah, yes, my father,” he finished. “I am sorry as well.”

  “Ye will go to Uist, will ye not?” someone, perhaps Tristan, asked.

  His mother, would she be glad? Ewan could not picture her to be sad. His father was not a good husband to her. He had turned out to be worse than anyone could have imagined.

  For a long moment, he considered not telling his cousins the truth. Then he decided it wouldn’t matter one way or the other.

  “I am not sure if I will go or not. There really isn’t much need. Being that I am the fourth born of five brothers, I am sure they will have matters well in hand.”

  He looked around the room and realized how different it had been for Malcolm, Tristan and Kieran when they’d lost their father. All three of them had mourned the late laird and been heartbroken over his death. The only one in the room that perhaps understood him was Ruari. He’d never truly known his father.

  “My father was not the great man like yer late father,” Ewan began. “I wish it was different, but it was often left for the council to handle all of the clan affairs. My father was a cruel man who cared little for the people. He devoted his time to things I would rather not speak of.

  Malcolm looked to his brothers. “What of yer mother? Does she not require ye there? It would be an insult to the clan if ye do not attend yer father’s funeral.”

  It was true.

  “Ye are right. I am thinking only of myself. In this matter, it is important that I be there for my family. They are not the reason I do not wish to return.”

  “A moment,” Malcolm said, motioning for everyone to leave. The solemn young laird waited for his brothers and Ruari to leave.

  “What is it?” Ewan asked, pouring a second glass.

  “Naill and Kieran will travel with ye to represent the clan. Is there anyone else ye would like to go?”

  “No, thank ye. I will rest one day and then we head to Uist. It will be best to ride hard, so no wagons will be required.”

  Malcolm nodded. “I agree.”

  Ewan considered what kind of a return would be best. For him to return the same, without anything to call his own or perhaps different? Truthfully, nothing had really changed about him. He remained a younger part of a family without a wife, land or any titles.

  “I would like to return a landowner.”

  “I am not sure I understand,” Malcolm said.

  Ewan nodded. “I wish to purchase land from ye, so that I can have something before returning to my family. I left without anything. I gave up my land, my life, as it was. In all this time, I have not acquired anything. No wife, bairns or land.”

  “Ye have done many things, Cousin. Ye have saved lives and fought for our clan bravely.” Malcolm exhaled. “I understand yer need to have something tangible. As a reward for yer service to me, I grant ye the land east of Ruari’s. There is a creek that runs south that divides the two. Ye can take the eastern portion as far as the Macdonnell lands. It is not very large, but it does include two villages.”

  His heart thudded with disbelief. “That is much too generous. I cannot accept such a large gift.”

  “It is what ye deserve. No member of my family should have nothing to their name. Upon returning to Uist, ye return a laird in yer own right.”

  Laird.

  He took a deep drink of whisky and coughed. “Thank ye.” He stood and hugged his cousin. “I will make ye proud. I swear it on my...”

  “Yer name is good enough,” Malcolm said with a wide smile. “The villagers there will be glad for a laird who lives closer and can give them the attention they need.”

  Ewan could not believe what had just happened. “What about Tristan and Kieran? Will they not resent that ye give me this?”

  “Neither can leave Dun Airgid as their responsibilities are here. Not to mention, if any of us separate our wives, they would serve us our balls on a platter.”

  Ewan nodded, understanding.

  “It will be announced at last meal. Ens
ure ye are present.”

  “I would not miss it.”

  Walking to his bedchamber, Ewan considered what would be required of him. First of all, and perhaps most importantly, he would begin the search for a wife so that he could start the lineage for his new lairdship. Of course, it would not be a love match, but one of convenience. He would choose a meek young lass. One that would obey him without question and one he would never love.

  That very day, he would begin his search. He’d make inquiries to Lady Ross and the other wives. Surely one of them would have the perfect candidate for him.

  The opportunity presented itself rather quickly as he walked from Malcolm’s study to his bedchamber.

  “Welcome home, Ewan.” Lady Ross and Kieran’s wife, Gisela, walked toward him.

  Both waited in silence as he bowed and greeted them. “I am glad to be here although I fear it is only for a day, as I must go to Uist the day after tomorrow.”

  “I am so very sorry,” Lady Ross said. “I am sure yer father will be missed.”

  He didn’t wish to correct her, so instead he bowed his head. “Thank ye.”

  “I must inquire,” Ewan began. “Upon my return from Uist, I will be building my own home and will require a wife soon thereafter.”

  After exchanging looks, the women remained silent.

  “I have to make sure that my last marriage was indeed dissolved, which I am sure it is. If I can place on ye the burden of finding a woman for me to marry, I would appreciate yer assistance, Lady Ross.”

  “Ye wish to marry so quickly?” Lady Ross asked. “Why?”

  “I prefer a meek lass. One with little opinion. Looks do not matter to me. If ye would kindly think on it.”

  Once again, he gave a slight bow and walked away, ignoring their astonished looks.

  Before last meal, he needed to sleep. The ride from the northern borders had been hard. After encountering a group of men along the way, they’d been forced to slow. He’d considered going faster, leaving the group and arriving back at Dun Airgid before the others, but then decided against it.