Page 61 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
The man nodded at once, and he immediately walked off to execute his orders, just as Archer returned to his thoughts.
River was a stranger in him, he supposed. He had been so different after the first attack, and though he had only lost his memory for a short time, he had assured her that he would never go back to the man he once was. How could he have known it was a lie? How could he have known that once his memories rushed back, he would be exactly the same man he had once been?
No, that too was a lie. He was not the same, not truly. River had changed something in him, and no matter how much he pretended to be the same person, he knew that change was too complete, too fundamental. He might seem like the Archer before the attack, he might act like him, but deep inside, there was something that had shifted, a crack in his armor that River had managed to carve out.
Still, he told himself, as he had told himself many times before, that he could return to the version of his life where River was simply a fact of the household rather than the centre of it. There had been a time when it had been easy enough. He had a single-minded purpose, something greater than him, something he had to honor, and the fact that River stayed away from him only helped with that. He could spend weeks without any real conversation with her, without their paths crossing. Sometimes, she would be required to attend breakfasts and dinners and balls, but for the most part, she had kept to herself, locked up in her eastern wing.
It had made it so much easier to ignore her existence. But now, her existence was everywhere—in the flowers that grew in the gardens, because she had picked them, in the food the cooks served, in the way the entire castle ran. She had truly become the Lady of the Clan, and now there was a bit of River in everything that made up Archer’s everyday life.
Archer stopped short in front of a cart full of fabrics, frowning at it.
“What’s this?” he asked a nearby servant. “I wasnae informed we would have a delivery today.”
“Our Lady ordered it,” said the servant, a young, eager man with ruddy cheeks. “She wanted us all to have new garments.”
Archer’s eyes narrowed. “She did?”
“Och aye,” said the man.
Archer considered that for a moment. The servant looked more than pleased, an the way he spoke of River was nothing short of awed. She had well and truly invaded every part of his castle—and she had improved it.
Even now, as he made his rounds and spoke to his men, his attention kept drifting away from the turrets and the strategic spots of defence towards the simple, infuriating fact that he could not stop remembering the sound of her voice when he had last heard her laugh.
He closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to focus. Assassins were still at large. The matter had not been resolved, and until it was, caution was not merely wise but necessary. River remained safer at a distance. She would be safer if he didn’t linger in her company longer than required, if he didn’t allow himself the indulgence of seeking her out simply because the urge had become too difficult to ignore.
That, at least, was what he told himself. It was a convincing argument on most days, but less so when he found her.
River was in the courtyard, standing near Keir as though the two of them were in the middle of some private conspiracy, their heads inclined towards one another, their voices low, their expressions far too familiar for his liking.
When had they become so close? The last time he had spoken to either of them, they both held such contempt for each other that Archer never thought they could act politely, let alone conspire together like this. Keir had never once liked River. Just theother day, he had been accusing her of being the one behind the attacks, and now he was this close to her, whispering and smiling like a schoolboy. And River, for her part, had always felt attacked by Keir, and rightfully so. When did she start to be so comfortable around him?
Keir said something that made River laugh, and Archer stopped walking, coming to an abrupt halt. He felt as if it had been eons since he had last heard that sound, bright and clear like a bell. When was the last time she had laughed because of him? Why was she laughing like this now, because of Keir?
Archer watched as Keir leaned closer to her, still smiling. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember the last time he had seen Keir like this, either. The man was always too serious, always frowning, never one to smile with little reason.
What is happenin’ here?
Something unpleasant tightened in Archer’s chest and at first, he didn’t know what it was. It was not something he was used to, feeling this way, but it soon dawned on him—it was jealousy, plain and simple.
But jealousy was not a useful emotion, and he had no interest in indulging it. Not only was he a grown man, the Laird of an entire clan, but he had also promised himself that he wouldn’t be so careless anymore. Even with River, he had to keep his distance.
And yet his feet carried him forward anyway.
By the time either of them noticed him, he had already crossed the courtyard and was standing only a few feet away from them. The fact that for so long, neither of them noticed him only added salt to the injury, and by the time Keir’s eyes landed on him, Archer’s blood was boiling with rage that threatened to bubble over at any moment.
When he saw him, Keir straightened at once, though River didn’t give him the same courtesy. Instead, she took a tentative step away from Keir, as if to put the barest bit of distance between them.
For Archer, it was not enough.
“Archer,” Keir said with a bemused smile, as if he was surprised to see him in his own castle. River turned, and for a moment the entire world narrowed down to her gaze focusing on him, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, and Archer couldn’t help but feel unwelcome in his own courtyard. “Were ye nae doin’ the rounds?”
What is happenin’!
“I was,” said Archer flatly. “I am.”
Keir glanced over Archer’s shoulder, as if to confirm he was, indeed, doing what he was supposed to be doing, and Archer couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the man.
“What were ye discussin’?”
