Page 65 of A Fierce Archer

Together, they walked into the great room where Ewan, surrounded by his cousins, seemed to be enjoying themselves with rousing toasts and loud laughter.

“Men are so basic in their actions,” Esme said, rolling her eyes. “I can only wonder how they would ever get on without women to guide them in daily necessities.”

The other women laughed. Catriona could only stare at her new husband, who seemed to have already forgotten her existence.

“Should he not be sitting here with me?” she whispered to Esme. “Should we not be toasted as a couple?”

Esme’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“What do ye mean?” Catriona regretted her questions. Now, Esme would suspect not all was well between her and Ewan.

“Did ye exchange words? Are ye cross with each other? Ye seem perturbed.”

“I am a bit,” Catriona said with an exaggerated pout. “He should be fawning over me at this moment.”

As she’d expected, Esme laughed loudly. “Ross men do not fawn. I would pay dearly to see it.”

The laughter made Ewan turn to them. Catriona pretended not to notice, joining Esme with soft chuckles.

“Bending over and kissing our feet would be a good start,” Esme said between giggles.

“Bowing as we pass by,” Catriona added. As much as she didn’t quite feel up to being jovial, the picture of any of the Ross men acting that way was comical.

Finally, the meal was to begin. She and Ewan were seated next to Laird Ross at the high board.

Ewan acted the part of the dutiful new husband, ensuring to place food on her plate and filling her cup with sweet mead. He asked about her well-being and listened as she told him with sarcasm that she was doing so well, it was hard to imagine a happier time in her life.

Hazel eyes met hers and, for a flicker, she thought to have seen the old Ewan, but it could have been her imagination as they was flat when she studied them.

***

“Ye do not have to submit to me until ye are ready,” Ewan said when they finally went to what would be their shared bedchamber until they moved to the new keep.

Catriona brushed the tangles from her hair. Already in her nightshift, she hadn’t expected there would be any type of formal bedding ceremony. Everyone was aware of how delicate her situation was and, therefore, any talk of what would happen once they were alone was left unsaid.

Well, except for a few drunken men who’d picked on Ewan.

“I will do my wifely duty by ye.”

Ewan didn’t reply. He went to the wardrobe and began undressing. Once he disrobed, he donned a white oversized tunic with long sleeves and went to the hearth.

She couldn’t help but slide a look to his muscular legs as he bent to add wood to the fire in the hearth. The room brightened when the flames grew larger, and also grew warmer.

Unable to delay the inevitable, Catriona stood and went to the bed. A part of her wondered how ready she actually was to be taken by a man. Shivers traveled down her spine.

Would it bring back the nightmares? The visions that would appear out of nowhere, forcing her to relive the horrible episode of her life.

She slipped between the covers, at this point, shaking so hard that she could barely keep her teeth from chattering.

“Come here,” Ewan said, joining her and pulling her against his side. “Relax.”

Unable to keep from it, she clung to him, her fingers digging into the fabric of the tunic. “Do it, please, quickly.”

It occurred to Ewan that Catriona had never been made love to. She was, for all intents and purposes, a virgin when it came to intercourse.

At the moment, she shook so hard, it was as if she were naked out in the snow. He held her gently against his body and ran a hand down her arm and the other across her back, soothing the woman.

Despite the fact he did not love her, he did care and would never do anything that would bring any kind of distress.