What his cousin said was not true. That he was in love was a ridiculous notion. Did he even know what it felt like? Was it what he experienced for the men who, up until recently, he thought of as cousins? Was it what he’d felt for his father, who he’d thought of as his uncle? Was it the pain and emptiness that had filled him since leaving Esme behind?
Pressing his lips together, Ruari sat on the cot and closed his eyes. When he touched his face, he winced.
What was he supposed to do now? He’d left Esme behind.
He remained sitting in the empty room without eating for the next two days. He was unable to speak or think of anything more than why he’d allowed Esme to go.
Laird Fraser had been understanding, telling him he was welcome to return at any time. Keithen, on the other hand, not as much, calling him a coward for not fighting for his wife.
If ever there was a time he needed advice it was then.
Morning came and Ruari could not fight against the pangs of hunger any longer. He went to the main house and entered through the back door. It was late morning, so most of the maids were outside in the garden or had gone to the village to purchase what would be needed for last meal. Moira didn’t speak to him. Instead, she placed a plate piled with meat and root vegetables on the table. “Drink this,” she said, slamming a cup of ale on the table.
While he ate, the older woman studied him. Ian’s mother had always treated him like a son. The late laird’s wife, Lady Ross, had always been distant, so all of them had sought maternal guidance from the cook, who had no problem doling out advice and reprimands.
“Ye look horrible. Once ye eat, go bathe.”
Ruari nodded and shoved food into his mouth.
“After ye finish washing, pack up and go.”
Thinking there was more to the sentence, he looked to Moira. The woman slapped him on the side of the head. “What were ye thinking leaving yer wife behind? Ye took a vow to protect her and she is now part of ye. Go get yer wife or I will never speak to ye again.”
“She chose to remain behind. What of her vow to me?”
“Sometimes, a person is forced to make a decision, especially when pushed away.”
He ate the rest of the food and then went to the bedchamber to retrieve clean clothing. The interior of the chamber was like they’d left it. A light fragrance in the air was all Esme and he inhaled deeply. Across the bed was a shawl she often used when getting up to cover herself from the chill in the air. Refusing to look at the table that held her belongings, he went to a trunk at the foot of the bed and retrieved a tunic and breeches.
He stopped at seeing a ribbon that had fallen on the floor.
How could he have been so stupid? So utterly, utterly foolish to have allowed his deep feelings for her to scare him and send her away.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Esme wasn’t sure how to face every morning in her new role back in Fraser Keep. Although everything was the same, it felt so very different.
Her mother’s disapproval of her decision to remain kept them at odds. It was grating to constantly hear that she’d ruined her own life.
Then there were the questioning looks from the maids and servants, who seemed confused about her status in the household.
Her only solace was Catriona, who she spent hours with talking about inconsequential things. Admittedly, her friend was still not the same. Most of the time, Catriona seemed to fade away during their time together, escaping into her own mind.
It was heartbreaking to see the once bright and exuberant Catriona no longer take care of her appearance, wearing her hair in a single braid every day and choosing only dull gowns to wear. Only once had Esme been able to coax her friend out to the garden and, even then, Catriona didn’t seem to take notice of the surroundings.
“Ye should make it clear to yer mother that her constant berating is not acceptable,” Catriona said, sounding like her former self. “It is not fair to ye.”
“I did make the decision to remain…” Esme said and sighed. “Mayhap it was wrong.”
Catriona shook her head. “It was up to Ruari to convince ye to return and not to be so quick to allow ye to remain behind. I am convinced he cares for ye but is too stubborn to admit it, even to himself.”
To Esme, it was doubtful that Ruari cared. He was attracted to her, but his actions had been driven by the fact that they were married and not by love.
“Lady Esme,” a maid said from the doorway. “There is a visitor here for ye.”
If it was someone from the village, Esme was not in the mood for it. “Who is it?”
“Yer husband.”
Esme’s stomach plummeted, her breath caught in her throat and she looked to Catriona, who seemed to have a similar reaction.
“I will be there shortly.”
She looked down at her gown, a simple but flattering frock, and then felt foolish for wanting to look her best.
“Ye look beautiful,” Catriona told her with a soft smile. “The color is most flattering on ye.”
The pale green did complement her olive complexion and dark hair.
Still, it was hard to make herself stand. Although she was told by her mother that her father had insisted Ruari visit often, she’d not expected it to be more than once every season or so.
Clasping her hands together to keep the trembling from showing, she went to the sitting room where Ruari awaited.
His hair had been shorn and he looked like he had recently trimmed his beard as well. He looked a bit different, perhaps gaunt in the face, but it did not diminish his attractiveness.
When their eyes met, Esme fought to keep an even expression. However, she knew hurt could not be kept from her eyes.
“I did not expect ye to come so soon,” she said, motioning to a chair. She lowered and, once again, clasped her hands together on her lap. Esme kept her gaze forward, refusing to look at him.
When he lowered to his knees in front of her, she leaned back.
Ruari then grasped her hands and looked into her eyes. “Forgive me.”
Struck silent, she could only stare at his large hands. When she met his gaze, there was determination.
“I am a coward to have left ye. I came to ask that ye return to me.”
Esme wanted to, her entire being missing him, but she pulled her hands away from his. “Give me a good reason.”
“Because I love ye and vow to never allow fear to separate me from ye again.” He cupped her face. “I love ye, Esme.”
His words fell over her, tendrils of warmth fanning. They were only words, she told herself. Something that could be easily swept away by a strong wind.
“Ye made vows before and it did not matter. Ye left me behind.”
“I am a fool.”
Certainly, she would return with him. This wasn’t her home anymore. The hollowness in every part of the home kept her cold and distant. It was not who she was, and she refused to become that woman that kept everyone at a distance.
“Do ye trust me at all?” Esme asked. “Do you believe that I have learned from my mistakes and will not do something so rash again?”
“I do,” he replied. “Return with me, Esme. I cannot live without ye by my side.”
His declarations were foreign, although he’d said he cared for her in the past. Even during lovemaking, Ruari never spoke of emotions or feelings.
Esme didn’t expect it when his lips touched hers, but she accepted the kiss, her eyes falling closed at the familiarity of her husband’s touch.
More than ever, she wanted to be his, to feel protected, secure and comforted. Although tingles of fear prodded her, she pushed them away. She was, after all, the daughter of a laird, a brave archer.
“Ye must remind me regularly of this,” she said. “I wish to hear daily and in different ways how ye feel about me. I need it, Ruari.”
He seemed puzzled, but then nodded. “I promise.”
“I wish to be beside ye if ever there is a need to protect our home. I a
m a warrior, a fighter who will not hide and simper when enemies approach.”
“I am aware of it,” Ruari said. “Ye may not be beside me, but I do expect ye up on the ramparts with that bow and arrows of yers.”
She considered his words and acquiesced. “Very well.”
“Does this mean ye will return to Ross Keep with me?”
Her lips curved at his expectant expression. “I will return with ye.”
A fortnight later
Her arrow hit the center of the target and Esme grinned at her husband who, in turn, frowned.
Although he was an intimidating fighter, his archery skills were passable at best. Ruari lifted his bow, pulled back the arrow and concentrated on the target. Esme stepped behind him and blew into his ear.
The arrow flew into the air, much too high and impaled into a nearby tree.
“That was not fair. Were ye scared I would best ye?”
Her laughter was bright. “Not in the least.”
“Come with me.” Ruari took her hand and led her toward the house. Together, they raced up the stairs to their bedchamber.
There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Ye can best me anywhere ye please.” Pulling her against him, his mouth covered hers, his arousal evident by the hardness that prodded at her lower abdomen.
When his hand slid down her back to cup her bottom, she moaned into his mouth, molding her body against his.
She then pushed back and gave him a playful look. “Take yer clothes off now.”
Ruari’s lips curved. “I will.”
Moments later, they tumbled onto the floor, both completely nude and breathless. The feel of his skin against hers never grew old. It was exciting to know that anyone could open the door and happen upon them.
Ruari rolled onto his back, pulling her over him. She pushed up, straddling him, then slid her sex against his.
Her husband grunted with pleasure, his jaw flexing.
The view of the man, unmade by her, was a most alluring picture.
When she guided him to enter her, both of them groaned at joining. Immediately, Esme began to move, taking him deeper and faster until everything disappeared. All that remained was the two of them, their bodies taking and giving and the beautiful sounds of their exclamations.
*
Two days later
Esme sat in the bedchamber re-reading Catriona’s latest letter describing the sheep outside her window, knowing the animals were always brought to the closer fields when the weather would grow cooler. Shepherds were offered warm places to sleep when not caring for the flocks and it was easier for the guards to keep watch for predators.
From the balcony, the large field just past the gates at Ross Keep was empty of flowers now. In the distance, the sounds of sword practice rang in the air. Soon, it would be time to head downstairs for last meal, but she relished the quiet time alone when not having to be around so many people.
She leaned forward at seeing a man walking to the center of the field. It looked like her husband.
Going to the open window, she leaned out. From the second floor, she had a clear view of him as she was sure all the guards did, too.
“Esme! Esme!” Ruari yelled and held his arms out.
“Yes? What is it?” she yelled back.
From the other balcony, Elspeth and Ceilidh emerged. “What is he doing?” Elspeth asked.
“I do not know,” Esme replied and then looked to Ruari. “What is it?”
Several of the guards stopped and were now watching as her husband began to undress.
“Has he gone mad?” Ceilidh said with a chuckle. “I must admit I like the view.”
“Ruari, stop at once,” Esme yelled.
The guards goaded him, the deep laughter making her shake her head at how easily men could be entertained.
“Come inside now,” Esme called out.
Tunic already gone, Ruari removed his britches next and stood as bare as the day he was born.
“He must have been drinking too much whisky,” Ceilidh remarked with a giggle.
“Esme!” Ruari repeated, holding his arms wide. “I love ye. I belong wholly to ye. I am reminding ye of how I feel.”
Despite the ridiculous form of expression, Esme began to laugh, her heart light and happy. The guards atop the gate did the same, some whistling and cheering now.
“I love ye, Esme!” Ruari screamed and then ran toward the loch.
“What are ye waiting for?” Elspeth said with a wide grin. “Go get him.”
She flew down the stairs and out the front gates to capture her husband.
The End!!!
About the Author
Most days USA Today Bestseller Hildie McQueen can be found in her overly tight leggings and green hoodie, holding a cup of British black tea while stalking her hunky lawn guy. Author of Medieval Highlander and American Historical romance, she writes something every reader can enjoy.
Hildie’s favorite past-times are reader conventions, traveling, shopping and reading.
She resides in beautiful small town Georgia with her super-hero husband Kurt and three little doggies.
Visit her website at www.hildiemcqueen.com
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