A Fierce Archer (Clan Ross Book 6) Hildie McQueen (online e reader TXT) 📖

showing to Ruari. It turned out to be a good thing, because the newly assigned village constable, his wife and his brother had arrived.

Both the constable and his brother were men about Ewan’s age. Although the brother seemed just a year or two younger.

The men were invited to sit at a table in the great room so they could speak of whatever issues they’d come to speak about.

Catriona appeared, dressed appropriately to spend time outside. Her dress had dark tones of green with a mixture of burnished brown. When she approached, the constable’s wife acknowledged her and introduced her to the man’s brother.

The constable’s brother could not disguise his admiration for Catriona. Even when Ewan cleared his throat, the man had yet to look away from his wife.

Even more annoying was that Catriona didn’t seem to notice. If she did, it was obvious she didn’t mind. He’d feared meeting new men would affect her negatively, but his brave wife continue forth with ease. She welcomed the constable and his brother, who fawned over her and the constable’s wife.

When she invited the woman to another table for a sip of honeyed mead, to his chagrin, the constable’s brother invited himself along.

“Does yer brother live in the village as well?” Ewan asked the constable.

The man looked to him as if confused for a moment. “No, my laird, as I told ye, he visits from another village, north of here.”

Obviously, while he’d been watching the younger brother with Catriona, he’d missed that part of the introduction. “So, he has a family there then?”

This time, the constable did not bother hiding his confusion. “He is considering moving to our village.”

Ruari spoke to the constable. “I noticed yer horse. I do not believe I know the breed.”

Thankfully, the question worked as the man began to tell Ruari about his horse’s lineage.

“If there is nothing pressing, I must change. I have challenged Ruari’s wife to an archery competition,” Ewan said, standing.

The constable grinned. “No, my laird, I came only to introduce my brother. He wishes to ask for a position here as a guard, if one is available.”

“He should be here speaking to me instead of there,” Ewan said in a flat tone, looking to the table where the man spoke to Catriona.

This time, both men looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “The constable asked if his brother could remain to speak to ye and ye said no,” Ruari said. He followed with, “Are ye unwell?”

“I was distracted. There is something I must take care of. I apologize,” he said to the constable. “Please remain for the night so that we can discuss more tonight.”

The constable beamed. “My wife will be most pleased.”

By the time he’d changed and hurried back down the stairs, everyone was already outside. He stalked to where the targets had been set up, annoyed that Catriona had not waited for him.

Being they had little to no communication, he couldn’t blame her for not knowing what he wished. However, in his estimation, she should have considered that it would look good for them to walk out together.

Esme stood with Ruari. Whatever was said between them must have been private because he nuzzled her neck and she pretended to be annoyed. By the flush of her cheeks and her smile, she was anything but.

With a critical eye, he studied the targets, and then looked to where some benches had been set up for the spectators.

There were more people than he’d expected. Not only had a small crowd of villagers gathered, but also the servants and most of the guardsmen. He frowned at noting what looked to be bets taking place and wondered if most bet against him. If Esme’s reputation had reached their ears, then most would probably side with the female archer.

At first, he could not find Catriona. But finally, he caught sight of her. She sat with the constable’s family. To her right was the man’s wife and on her left was the irritating brother. At the moment, she had her head bent toward the woman listening to something.

Meanwhile, the constable’s brother hovered like a damned predator. A vulture would be a more apt description.

“I will go first,” Esme announced, holding her bow up. The small crowd cheered. “Best out of five.”

Ewan scowled. “We have not yet discussed the rules of the game or the prize.”

“True,” Esme said, her eyes scanning the surroundings until landing on his wife. “If I win, I wish ye to spend the night with Catriona outdoors, no shelter, only bedding.”

“That is a stupid prize to ask for,” he growled.

“Fine,” Esme then said. “If I win, I wish for ye to remove all yer clothing and run around the entire keep with nothing but a hat on yer head. Hat of my choice, of course.”

Ewan looked to where Catriona sat. They could not hear what was being said, but she watched them with ill-concealed curiosity. Just then, the damned vulture leaned into her ear and she smiled at whatever the idiot spewed. “I will sleep outside if I lose.”

“With yer wife?” Esme asked.

“She will be angry with ye. But very well.”

“What do ye wish for a prize if ye happen to win?” Esme asked, daring in her gaze.

“That ye ride on a horse facing backward the length of the field.” He pointed over to a wide field.

“I would fall,” Esme said with an astounded expression. “I am an able rider, but I must admit that I’ve never attempted to ride backward.”

He waited until she finally met his gaze. “No matter. I do not intend to lose.”

When they stepped up to the marks, the crowd silenced. Esme looked to him and gave him a narrowed look. She then turned to the target and shot. The arrow hit