Page 39 of A Fierce Archer

Of course, what Lady Fraser was interested in were the constant activities, the feasts and any celebrations at the larger keep, since she and Laird Fraser only attended smaller gatherings. The entire trip there, she’d spoken of little else but hopes for several large celebrations.

As if reading her mind, Elspeth spoke. “Tonight, we have invited several neighboring families to attend a welcome celebration in yer honor, Lady Fraser.”

The woman looked about to swoon with delight and Catriona slid a knowing look to Esme, who then gazed upon her mother indulgently.

After first meal, Esme gave Catriona a tour of the home. By the time they returned to the great room, Catriona was completely lost. “I do not think I will ever learn my way around here.”

“Everyone gets turned about at first,” Esme said with a chuckle. “I would get so angry when trying to find my way to the great room for meals.”

Esme looked around. “I will introduce ye to Laird Ross and his brother,” Esme said, not giving Catriona an opportunity to reply before pulling her toward the high board.

When she looked up and met the icy stare, she almost turned around and ran. However, Esme held her arm. “Laird Ross, this is Catriona, who is like a sister to me.”

The man was as handsome as he was frightening. After a nudge from the man to his right, he seemed to soften. “Welcome to Dun Airgid. I hope ye will enjoy yer visit.”

Catriona bent her head forward in greeting.

“Catriona, this is Tristan Ross, the laird’s brother, and Merida’s husband,” Esme explained.

Like his cousins, Tristan also had hazel eyes. His, however, seemed lighter. The man nodded in greeting. “Welcome, Miss Catriona.” Unlike his brother, Tristan Ross set her mind at ease enough to speak.

“Th-thank ye,” Catriona stuttered, looking to Esme, hoping for an escape.

“Ewan has gone to meet with the guards. He shall return by last meal,” Tristan informed her.

To her utter dismay, she felt a wave of heat fall over her face. “Oh.” It was the only sound she could make. Thankfully, Esme rescued her.

“I’m sure he will seek Catriona upon his return,” Esme replied, tugging her arm. “Let us go see where the women are.”

“How do they know?” Catriona hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

Esme gave her a droll look. “Ewan must have said something to them.”

“I should speak to Broden,” Catriona said. “He has been making attempts to court me.”

Her friend stop mid-stride. “I was not aware Broden was interested in ye. I wonder if it is more about feeling possessive over ye.”

“Either way, I feel that I should speak to him.”

“I will send for him later,” Esme said. “Ye need to get yer breath and rest a bit first.”

They went into a large sitting room where Elspeth and several women sat about sewing. Elspeth waved them in. “Ye have to tell me about yer home. I do not believe I’ve ever been to yer village.”

After a while, Catriona was shocked to find out the beautiful Lady Ross had grown up a simple village girl. She’d agreed with Catriona that her husband was quite frightening when first meeting him.

“He is a strong leader who grew up a warrior and witnessed death many times. As much as I try, I cannot imagine what it is like.”

Merida looked to Catriona. “Ye haven’t met the youngest, Kieran, yet. If ye think Malcolm is unsettling, then ye will find Kieran absolutely terrifying.”

The women chuckled, except for Catriona, who could not imagine anyone scarier than Malcolm Ross.

***

Dressed for last meal, Catriona was still astonished at her lack of nervousness. It could be that the change in location helped. She hoped that when it was time to sleep, her fears would remain at bay.

Since no one had offered to stop by for her, she decided to make her way there. Leaving her bedchamber, she went to the end of the corridor, turned right down a second one. She’d memorized the way. Right, left and then left.

However, upon reaching the end of the corridor, she found herself not in the great room, but in a different one. This one was smaller, with several sitting areas. Over a fireplace, there was a portrait of a couple. The man resembled Malcolm, but it was not him. The woman was seated, her hands folded, her gaze straight ahead.