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

After, he lowered to the ground, removing his boots and breeches. Doing his best not to wake Catriona, he slid between the blankets and was immediately surprised at how comfortable the bed actually was.

He lay on his back for a while, looking up at the starlit sky. It certainly was stunning. He’d have to remember to thank Esme for giving him the opportunity to see the beauty of a night sky.

Catriona stirred and rolled to her back. In slumber, she was a masterpiece of beauty. Her long lashes fanning down over her cheeks, pink lips pursed demanding to be tasted.

His loins stirred and Ewan took a deep breath, forcing his gaze back up to the sky. But then she let out a soft sigh and he turned to her again.

Whatever she was dreaming of brought a slight curve to her lips. Probably thoughts of besting him that night.

His own mouth softened, and he chuckled. In truth, he missed their friendship. He missed the many many days they’d spent talking about inconsequential things while he tried to bring her out of the shell caused by the attack of Mackenzie guards.

She rolled back to her left side, her back to him.

Perhaps, it was time to begin again, to rekindle the friendship. Avoiding her and acting like an idiot was hurting the marriage.

Ewan rolled to his side and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Then when she didn’t wake, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He nuzzled the back of her neck and pressed his erection between the orbs of her bottom.

What happened next was something he’d never seen before. Catriona let out a low guttural sound. It was animalistic, like a painful groan.

Her entire body shook so hard, he let her go. Then she began to kick and scratch her own skin. Sobs racked through her and she dragged herself away. The entire time, her eyes were squeezed shut. “No. No.”

She gasped for air, almost as if it were impossible to get enough.

In the next moment, she was on the dirt, crawling to the corner where the short walls of the garden met. Once there, she began to mewl, her arms wrapped around her bloody legs.

He wasn’t sure how much the maid had seen, but now Maisie sat up, her wide eyes taking in what was happening.

“Do not approach her,” Ewan said. “Go inside and find Esme Ross. Do not alert anyone else. Hurry.”

The maid scrambled away, and he went just a bit closer to Catriona, leaving enough distance between them not to scare her more.

“Catriona,” he whispered. “It is me. Ewan.”

She cried out and wildly batted the air between them with both arms. “No, no, no, no.”

Her face was a mixture of blood, mud and tears and she looked so pitiful, he wanted to cry himself.

What had he done?

“What happened?” Esme and Ruari burst out of the side door. At once, Esme hurried to Catriona, lowering next to her and whispering in his wife’s ears. Immediately, Catriona dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs and clung to Esme.

Esme looked to him with obvious pity and mouthed. “Go.”

The dimness of the interior of his home fit his mood perfectly. He didn’t bother with light and went directly to pour whisky into a glass and drank it down in two gulps. The whisky felt like a rock when it hit his gut and instead of the calming effect he expected, it was the opposite.

The mixture of the ale he’d imbibed earlier, the food and now the whisky bubbled in his gut until he had to run back outdoors and empty the contents of his stomach.

When he straightened, Ruari stood before him with arms crossed. “Are ye finished?”

Although Ewan was a large man himself, no one could compare to Ruari. The huge warrior was broad of shoulders, muscular beyond compare and, at the moment, had a dark fury in his eyes that made Ewan want to take a step back.

Instead, he swallowed and waited to see if his stomach was settled enough for him to speak.

“Finished with what?”

“Acting like a fool. Pretending at marriage. Mistreating yer wife.”

Fury boiled and he held an arm pointing in the direction of the garden. “I did not attack her tonight. What happened is a result of before...”

“I am not speaking just of tonight,” Ruari snapped. “But of how ye have acted toward her. How in the bloody hell is she supposed to feel comfortable with ye? Do ye really think yer current actions are not what brought this to happen?”

When his stomach protested to his standing upright, Ewan threw up again. It was not the whisky nor the food that had him feeling sick. But seeing Catriona in such as state. Dirty and bloody, hair plastered to her face with the wetness of her tears. Surely, it had to be what she’d looked like when she was held prisoner.

Tears welled and he gulped back a sob. “What have I done?” He stumbled away from the house without a sure direction. “My God.”

He bent over, attempting to settle his stomach with long breaths.

Ruari’s feet appeared below and he realized that both of them were in bare feet and half-dressed.

“Ye are going to either vow to repair this, or she comes to live with us.” Loathing dripped from each word uttered.

Ruari walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A trickle of sunlight did little to brighten the room, but it was just right in Catriona’s estimation. For a few precious months, she’d been back to herself. And now the thought of stepping past the doorway terrified her.

In the three days since the garden, she’d only seen Esme and Maisie. A messenger had been dispatched to McLeod Keep postponing Paige’s visit, citing illness. It bought Catriona a couple weeks to regain control. Hopefully, it